Dark Matter

by S. W. Ahmed

  “We were your three ‘executioners’. We intervened in the nick of time, taking the place of the actual executioners as they were entering the stadium. Then we carried you through the desert and brought you here.”

  “I’m glad to see you survived your execution,” Raiha said, with a twinkle in her eyes.

  “But how did you do it?” Marc asked in amazement, slowly sitting up and looking at Raiha. “You swung that blade at my neck, didn’t you?”

  “The power of illusion can be overwhelming,” Sharjam said, leaning back to give Marc more space. He sounded very similar to Dumyan, although his pace of talking was slower. “Especially when that power finds its strength in verses of the sacred Scriptures.”

  “That’s just my brother’s humble way of saying that he has a number of enchantments up his sleeve,” Dumyan said, widening his beak to reveal a smile.

  Marc wasn’t totally sure what either of them meant, but decided not to press on it. The main thing was that he and his friends were alive and free, and in safe company. It seemed the goodness he had sensed during his landing on Meenjaza had finally decided to reveal itself.

  “Where are we now?” he asked.

  “We are on Meenjaza, under the floor of the Furish crater in an unpopulated part of the desert,” Raiha said. “We’re safe from Wazilban’s soldiers and surveyors here, at least for the time being.”

  Marc looked around, and noticed that they were inside a dimly lit cavern with a low, rocky ceiling. There were several other Aftarans in the cavern as well, most of them busily attending to various types of monitoring equipment that he didn’t recognize.

  “This is a local rebel base,” Sharjam explained. “Unfortunately there are very few rebels scattered across the Dominion, thanks to the wide reach of Wazilban’s forces and the harsh punishment for those who dare oppose him. You just escaped that punishment yourself.”

  “This base is also not permanent,” Dumyan added. “The reason we’re safe here for the moment is due to a uniquely powerful and dynamic magnetic field in Meenjaza’s mantle. It constantly moves around, and periodically causes high amounts of geomagnetic radiation to be emitted at deep craters such as this one. The radiation is so strong that military vehicles scanning the area cannot see through it, and it also repels surveyors before they can get close enough to be harmful. But because the field is constantly in motion, the radiation at this crater will soon disappear, and we’ll have to move before our presence is detected.”

  Marc understood now what all the monitoring equipment was for. He also wondered what surveyors were, but a more pressing question was already on his mind. “Why did you rescue us?”

  “I asked them that too,” Sibular said. “But they wanted to wait until you woke up before they answered.”

  Marc was about to respond, but began feeling lightheaded. He closed his eyes and lay down.

  Sharjam abruptly got up and walked away, soon to return with a mug in his hand. “Here, drink this,” he offered, giving Marc the mug. “It’s called rauka, and it’ll give you strength.”

  Marc slowly sat up and drank the yellow liquid. It worked like magic, just like the last time on Thorab’s ship. He felt strong again, and the lightheadedness disappeared right away.

  “We’ve been looking for you for a long time,” Dumyan said, watching the color return to Marc’s face. “Although we didn’t know it was you we were looking for until very recently.”

  Marc shook his head in confusion. “What do you mean? Looking for whom? The three of us, or me?”

  “Well, we intended to rescue you and whoever else was accompanying you, but we were specifically looking for you alone. That we came across Sibular and Zorina, both such highly skilled individuals from their own civilizations, is an added bonus.”

  “Why me?”

  “This may be difficult for you to believe or accept in one shot, but perhaps there’s no better way to tell you,” Sharjam said. “Your coming is prophesied in one of our sacred Scriptures, and you’re needed for us to defeat Wazilban and restore peace and prosperity to the Dominion.”

  Marc’s jaw dropped in amazement. “Prophecy! In your sacred Scripture? Me?” He paused to let the words he had just heard sink in. “I’m not an Aftaran, and I don’t even know anything about your religion!”

  “Be that as it may, there’s no doubt that you are the one,” Sharjam said. “Our High Clerics have told us so.”

  “Your who?”

  “The High Clerics are the supreme authority of our religion, the ones who interpret the sacred Scriptures for all of us and guide us along the path of righteousness,” Sharjam explained. “For the longest time, we thought Wazilban had killed them after taking control of the Dominion. But we recently discovered that he has kept them as prisoners all along, right here on Meenjaza. We were able to visit them in secret, but didn’t have enough time to free them and bring them back with us. They’re old and they don’t have the physical strength to withstand travel through harsh conditions. By the will of the Creator, we shall free them when our mission is over.”

  “We need your help, Marc,” Raiha said. “Will you please help us?”

  Marc couldn’t believe what he was hearing. In bewilderment, he stared at Sibular, who was just standing there in silence. His gaze returned to the three Aftarans sitting around him. He couldn’t help wondering if this whole thing was some kind of practical joke. But why the Aftarans would go to such lengths just to humor themselves, he couldn’t imagine. Was he really someone special after all? That would certainly explain his visions and his growing sense of intuition.

  “I can try my best to help you,” he said. “But first, you must explain to me what exactly the High Clerics told you.”

  All three Aftarans looked highly relieved, and Marc noticed Sharjam whisper a short prayer of thanks with his eyes closed.

  “It’s a long story, and all has to be explained in the proper context,” Sharjam said after opening his eyes again. “But come, you must be hungry. I know I am. Let’s all eat something, and we’ll tell you more during the meal.”

  “Rebels or shipmates, it seems all Aftarans know how to cook!” Zorina exclaimed, gladly taking in a second helping of spicy vegetable curry. After waking up, she had joined the others.

  They were all sitting in a circle in a corner of the cavern – Marc, Zorina, Dumyan, Sharjam, Raiha and a few other Aftaran rebels. The curry was still simmering inside a large pot that stood over a portable stove in the center of the circle. Raiha kept offering more curry to everyone, along with fresh bread from a small oven next to the pot.

  Sibular stood nearby, discussing Meenjaza’s magnetic field fluctuations with a couple of Aftaran rebels. Marc had no doubt that Sibular would have some useful technical advice for the Aftarans, given how primitive their technology was compared to that of the Mendoken.

  Zorina was brought up to speed on how the three of them had been rescued, and also why. “Marc mentioned in the Aftaran sacred Scriptures?” she exclaimed, bobbing her head up and down in amazement. “Unbelievable! In which text?”

  “The Hidden Scripture,” Sharjam said between mouthfuls of curry.

  “The what? I thought I’ve heard the names of all seven of them before, and that name doesn’t sound familiar.”

  “I would have been surprised if you had heard of it,” Sharjam said. “There are only seven Scriptures available to the public. But there’s also an eighth, and it’s called the Hidden Scripture for a reason. Only the High Clerics have the authority to see it.”

  “Why is it hidden?” Zorina asked. “And how do you know what it says if it’s hidden?”

  “It’s hidden because its content is far too difficult and vague for most Aftarans to understand. It contains prophecies, mostly of events in the Dominion, but only the High Clerics know how to interpret the prophecies correctly. The High Clerics gave our father one of the only three copies of the Hidden Scripture when Wazilban took over the Dominion, to safeguard it in case he killed the
m. During our time in hiding, we read all of it, from beginning to end. That’s how we came across the prophecy, but we didn’t understand it properly or recognize its true relevance until we visited the High Clerics this time.”

  Marc shrugged. “But what is it about me that’s so unique? I’m just an ordinary being, from a species whose world still has a silupsal filter around it, for heaven’s sake!”

  “Therein lies the brilliance of the prophecy,” Dumyan said. “The perfect cover, keeping you hidden out of everyone’s sight until the appointed time.”

  Dumyan and Sharjam went on to explain who they really were. Taking turns, they told of their father Autamrin, the previous ruler of the Dominion, and how Wazilban had come from nowhere and tricked the public with lies into rising up against him. They told of their escape from Wazilban’s clutches and their hiding on Tibara, and explained why the two of them had recently come back to Meenjaza with Raiha.

  Marc listened intently to the whole story. “So where do I fit in to all this?” he asked after the two brothers had finished talking.

  “You are the Sign,” Sharjam said, taking a sip of water. “The one who has the ability to see that which the rest of us can’t, that which we need to know in order to defeat Wazilban. Without your help, we cannot succeed – the prophecy says so. One of the reasons we came back was to look for the Sign. It was not until we faced the High Clerics that we understood what it really was and how to find it.”

  “Him, rather,” Raiha said, nodding in Marc’s direction. “How to find him.”

  “Indeed, him,” Sharjam agreed.

  “So, Marc, can you tell us if you’ve seen anything so far, regarding Wazilban or anything else about the Aftaran people or the Dominion, that seemed peculiar or out of place?” Dumyan asked, staring directly at Marc. “Something that nobody else has noticed?”

  Marc returned the stare. “Yes. As a matter of fact, I can.”

  “Aliens!” they all exclaimed in unison. The look on the face of every single Aftaran in the circle was one of total shock. Zorina looked astonished as well, and Sibular floated over to them after hearing the commotion.

  “Yes,” Marc said confidently, “Wazilban is an alien from another species, as are a number of others. They appear to have completely infiltrated your society and established themselves in key positions.” He then told everyone the whole series of events since his departure from Earth, focusing on his visions, his growing feelings of good and bad about select individuals and places, and finally his ability to recognize Wazilban and the others as aliens.

  For a long moment, there was complete silence. The Aftarans in the circle exchanged uneasy glances with each other.

  “Do you… do you see any of the aliens here?” Sharjam asked.

  Marc looked around the cavern again, just to make sure. “No,” he said. He proceeded to describe what the aliens looked like, and also explained what he thought their intentions were, based on what he had seen in his visions.

  “This is unbelievable!” one of the other Aftarans sitting in the circle said, shaking her head. “To have been tricked like this for all these years! Where are these aliens from? I have heard of no species looking like that in the entire galaxy.”

  “I don’t know,” Marc said, shaking his head as well.

  “Do you have any evidence of this?” Dumyan asked.

  “Evidence? No, I have no evidence. I’m just telling you what I saw with my own eyes.”

  Dumyan was silent for a moment, and then suddenly got up. “I have an idea. Marc, come with me.” He began walking off towards an exit on the far wall of the cavern.

  Marc got up and followed, wondering where Dumyan was going. Sharjam, Zorina and Sibular accompanied him.

  Dumyan led the way out of the cavern and down a narrow, dark tunnel. After less than a minute of walking, they reached a dead end, marked by a lamp perched on the far wall. In front of the wall, Marc could see an Aftaran standing guard next to a big cage with thick metal bars. The guard moved out of the way as Dumyan approached.

  Dumyan pointed at the cage. “Now, Marc, tell me what you see.”

  Marc looked beyond the bars of the cage, and a familiar feeling of terror instantly shot through his body. His face turned pale, sweat beads appeared on his forehead, and his legs began shivering. His first instinct was to run away as fast as he could, to get as far from the evil in front of him as humanly possible. But as he turned, he found the way out of the tunnel blocked by Sharjam, Sibular and Zorina.

  “Marc, what do you see?” Zorina asked, grabbing hold of his arms.

  “I see two of those aliens!” he whispered, turning to look at the cage once more.

  There was no doubt about it. The aliens were there inside the cage, staying afloat in midair with the slow, sweeping motions of their wings. They didn’t have a lot of space, as the cage wasn’t very big. One of the aliens was larger than the other, and also looked meaner and tougher. Not that the other had a sweet appearance by any standards – both of them had their long snouts open, displaying their shiny fangs and looking ready to pounce on anything that came within their reach. And both of them had their threatening, alligator-like eyes focused on Marc.

  “What do you see?” Marc asked Zorina in return.

  “I just see two Aftarans,” Zorina said. “Sibular?”

  Sibular agreed with Zorina, as did Dumyan and Sharjam.

  “They are two dangerous mercenaries who work for Wazilban,” Dumyan said. “Ozwin and Ruminat. We crossed paths with them on another star system.”

  Sharjam walked up to the cage and addressed the prisoners. “Your disguise has finally been exposed! We know you are not Aftarans. Tell us who you are, where you are from, and what your purpose is here in the Dominion.”

  The prisoners looked stunned but remained quiet, avoiding everyone’s gaze.

  “Speak!” Sharjam thundered. “You can no longer hide the truth.”

  The larger alien looked up. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. We have nothing to hide. We are Aftarans, like you. The only difference is that we’re not traitors to Lord Wazilban, the chosen leader of the Dominion!”

  Sharjam pretended to ignore what the alien had just said, and motioned to Marc to come forward.

  Marc hesitated. Even though they were behind thick bars, he was terrified of those creatures.

  Sharjam walked over and whispered into Marc’s ear. “You needn’t fear them. Once they hear what you have to say, they’ll be more afraid of you than you of them. Fear them less, and they’ll fear you more. It’s the nature of Creation that truth always prevails when it directly confronts falsehood, for the Creator always sides with the righteous. Trust me, and have faith.”

  All the others had their eyes on Marc, waiting for him to move. Trying his best to swallow his fear, he slowly took a few steps towards the cage. He took a deep breath and began describing the appearance of the creatures. He went on to explain how these aliens were planning to exterminate all the civilizations in the galaxy. As he spoke, the prisoners’ faces began to show increasing alarm.

  Dumyan was closely observing the aliens. “Why are you so afraid, Ozwin, if you have nothing to hide?”

  Ozwin looked very uncomfortable, evidently not at all prepared that anyone would be able to see through his disguise. “This… ah… individual… is mad!” he said, his voice sounding panic-stricken. “He knows not what he says!”

  “Tell us who you are!” Dumyan insisted.

  The prisoners were quiet.

  Sharjam motioned to Marc to move closer to the cage, and to continue speaking.

  Marc, now feeling more confident about Sharjam’s predictions, moved all the way up to the bars. He repeated everything he had just said, but this time with a louder voice and with more vivid detail.

  The aliens retreated to the rear of the cage as much as they could, the terror in their reptilian eyes now clearly showing.

  “Tell us from where you’ve come!” Sharjam cried, his voice f
ull of anger.

  “Leave us alone!” Ruminat suddenly shouted, her face cowering behind Ozwin’s. “You can’t stop us anymore!”

  “Be quiet!” Ozwin snapped at his companion.

  “Quiet for what?” Ruminat said, sounding distressed. “They’re all doomed anyway! What does it matter?”

  “You fool!” Ozwin yelled, clasping his limb over Ruminat’s snout. “She is… delirious, don’t listen to her!” he pleaded to the others.

  But it was too late. Dumyan looked at Sharjam, revealing a big grin on his face.

  “Satisfied?” Sharjam asked his brother.

  “Indeed, indeed I am. You know, I suppose this explains why those Doolins on Droila thought we ate meat.”

  “Yes,” Sharjam agreed. “Based on Marc’s description of their appearance, these aliens certainly don’t seem to be vegetarians.”

  Dumyan turned to Marc. “My friend, you now have my full conviction.”

  Chapter 30

  The surge of geomagnetic radiation through the Furish crater abruptly came to an end. Two days had already passed since the arrival of Marc and his friends at the Aftaran rebel base, and now it was time to move. Without the protection of the radiation, Wazilban’s soldiers would probably soon locate and destroy the base, if a surveyor didn’t blow it up first. And after hearing a detailed description of surveyors and their awesome destructiveness, Marc, Sibular and Zorina had been quick to agree with the Aftaran rebels that leaving the crater as soon as possible would indeed be the wisest decision.

  There was also another reason to leave without delay. On the evening of the second day, the two prisoners Ozwin and Ruminat had suddenly vanished. According to the Aftaran guard, they had not physically broken out of the cage. Instead, their bodies had simply vaporized into thin air. It couldn’t have been done with an enchantment, for they had had no scripture coins at their disposal, and possession of the appropriate scripture coin was always needed before any enchantment could be enacted. So evidently these aliens had other powerful capabilities not known to any Aftaran. With their alien origins already exposed, these two had obviously decided to use their native capabilities to flee. No doubt, they would quickly make contact with Wazilban and inform him where the rebels were located. It was imperative for the rebels, therefore, to be far away from the Furish crater by the following morning.