Infinity's Embrace

by Anna Carven

  Sarien? She’d heard the term mentioned, but she hadn’t paid it much attention. What does that even mean?

  You will see.

  The rain began to ease, and a flicker of lightning offered her a glimpse of Ashrael’s wet form.

  “You’re naked,” she gasped, forgetting her mindspeech as she briefly caught sight of his powerful body. He was lying on his back in the dirt, and he was wounded in more than one place, his pale platinum skin marred by several nasty looking black cuts.

  So? He reacted to her surprise with nonchalance, as if such blatant nudity was no big deal. Thunder rumbled in the background, growing more distant.

  That strange feeling inside her grew. Her heart was fluttering like a caged butterfly, her spine was tingling, and Noa was so confounded by it all that she paid no heed to her surroundings, particularly the four armed warriors who had surrounded them.

  When the lightning revealed them to her, they were so close she could reach out touch them. Noa gasped. She hadn’t heard or sensed their approach. Without thinking, she threw herself protectively over Ashrael. “Don’t hurt him. He’s already wounded,” she blurted. “He saved my life.”

  “Ah,” one of the warriors grumbled, his voice floating to her through the rain and darkness. His tone was a mixture of irritation and surprise. “So it seems. Fucker’s too fast for his own good, and now he’s doing our job for us. I trust you know better than to try anything stupid now, katach.”

  Ashrael laughed softly.

  “So what are we supposed to do with him now?”

  “That’s up to the boss to decide. He’ll be here shortly. Did you hear? He’s taken the other one alive.”

  “He’ll be furious that they evaded our surveillance systems,” another remarked. Noa recognized this voice. Rykal. “I thought we had this place locked down tight. Hate to say it, but maybe we’ve underestimated them. Now that he’s got his tongue back, maybe our wraith can enlighten us on our mysterious enemies.” He let out a dry laugh. “If he decides to come over to our side. I thought the rumors were exaggerations, but you touched ones really are monsters when it comes to stealth.” His voice held a mixture of surprise and frustration. “You’re such a pain-in-the-ass to try and kill.”

  That is true, Ashrael told her matter-of-factly, radiating a subtle kind of amusement. Some of his pain escaped through their bond, and Noa suspected he was hiding the full extent of it. She wondered how he could find the energy to be smugly amused when he was so severely wounded.

  Kordolians, she decided, were strange.

  Rykal and the other warriors didn’t seem overly concerned about the fact that Ashrael was bleeding out in the mud, nor did they care that the rain, although softer now, was pelting down all around them. Noa’s clothes were soaked through, and she began to shiver. She wasn’t sure whether she was cold or whether she was spooked by the darkness and the aftermath of violence and the images of blood and death emblazoned in her mind.

  The assassin’s lifeless body lay just meters from them. She shuddered.

  “How the hell did we not know what these guys were capable of?” Rykal seemed more concerned with the fact that the Silent Ones had gotten past them.

  “Empire’s full of secrets, Ry,” a deep voice rumbled. “That’s how the royal family keeps its power. We’ve seen this pattern before. Remember Barduk? Teluron-5? Veronia? The clusterfuck that was Omaron-Ra? Figureheads and leaders die in mysterious circumstances, then they send us in to cause chaos, colonize, and clean up the mess. Well, at least they used to. But those deaths weren’t accidental. Why do you think we know so little about the Silent Ones? It’s because they aren’t supposed to exist.”

  “The General knew about them. Only reason we know so much is through him.”

  “Yeah, but he’s the Big G. It’s his job to know a bit about everything, but I get the feeling even the General’s only scratching the surface when it comes to understanding these freaks.”

  Somehow, the soldiers had become relaxed. Perhaps it was because Ashrael was lying helpless in the mud with his arm limp and outstretched. He wasn’t a threat to any of them right now. Noa couldn’t see them in the darkness, but they probably had their guns trained on him, and by extension, her.

  She wasn’t quite sure who the enemy was anymore, and their nonchalance was bothering her.

  “Hey,” Noa said sharply, her voice taut with urgency, “he needs a medic. Aren’t you going to help him?”

  “You think those delicate hands of yours are the reason his bleeding’s stopped?” Rykal laughed. “I told you before, he can stop the bleeding with his mind.”

  Noa blinked. You can?

  There was a pause as Noa’s suspicion grew.

  Perhaps, Ashrael admitted at last.

  So I can let go now?

  No. Stay. His breathing was steadier now. He placed his wet hand over hers, sending a ripple of anticipation through her. His fingers were warm and strong and reassuring. You have good hands. Strong hands. You’re stronger than you look, Human.

  Is that a compliment? She narrowed her eyes.

  Perhaps.

  That strange feeling returned, resonating through their bond. It rendered Noa speechless. Soaked through and plastered with mud, unable to stop her body from shaking, and surrounded by a squad of menacing guards, she somehow found herself sharing mindspeech with a wounded ex-assassin.

  No, they were sharing a little bit more than just mindspeech.

  Despite his injuries, Ashrael’s body was warm under her fingers, and his constant presence in the back of her mind was reassuring. Defying all odds, he’d come for her as soon as he’d sensed a threat.

  She shuddered as she recalled the way he’d stood over his dead opponent, staring down at him with his face hidden in shadow, his right hand darkened with blood. There had been nothing triumphant about his victory. A complicated swirl of dark emotions had radiated from him, but above all, he’d projected a sense of savage relief.

  One was a survivor. One was dead. That was all.

  And Noa had been surprised that she too had felt a sense of relief. She was glad that her faceless attacker was dead. The intensity of her feelings shocked her. She’d never wished death upon another in her life.

  Well, maybe she’d had some dark thoughts about the SynCorp crazies who’d put her through hell, but this was different. This was raw, brutal reality, and there was no turning back from it now.

  So she held on tightly to her unlikely savior as the sky lit up once again, revealing his pale face. His features were etched with pain, but his lips were slightly curved.

  He was smiling.

  Noa looked up as a familiar presence descended on them. Although she couldn’t see much, she’d felt something; a strange sort of energy that made the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand up. The rain had stopped now, leaving her soaked to the bone. The wind had died down, and the silence was punctuated with the gentle, rhythmic patter of dripping water as it fell from the rain-drenched trees.

  This new presence was unmistakable. The General radiated power and anger in equal measure, but his aura was tempered with a sense of icy control.

  Icy fury. It was rather scary.

  Anticipating the danger, Noa rose to her feet. “He saved me,” she blurted before anyone else could get a word in. Her voice trembled, her hands shook, and her legs felt weak, but she stood her ground. The darkness unnerved her, because she couldn’t see who she was facing, but somehow her mental senses had become more acute, and she had a reasonable idea of where everyone was.

  “Indeed,” Tarak replied, as cryptic as ever, although there was an undercurrent of dark anger in his voice. The clouds parted, admitting a sliver of moonlight. It was just enough for her to be able to make out the silver faces of the Kordolians.

  She looked down. Ashrael’s eyes were closed. He barely seemed to be breathing.

  Ashrael? She called out to him, but he didn’t respond. She could feel him through the bond, but he was slipping a
way.

  “Help him,” she pleaded. For the second time that night, she fervently hoped he could elude his ever-present companion, death.

  Chapter Sixteen

  He was floating again. He drifted in and out of consciousness until his sense of time and space kicked in. Tentatively, he extended his ka’qui.

  He was in stasis again.

  He did a quick inventory of his body. The largest wound - the one the Human had placed her hands over - extended to his right lung. He’d focused most of his ka’qui there, using the energy to stop the bleeding before he’d endured the ignominy of passing out.

  Again.

  In front of half of the First Division, the General, and the mystifying, confusing, insane Human, he’d passed out like some wet-around-the-ears novice who hadn’t yet learned how to use his ka’qui to stop exsanguination.

  That Human. He still didn’t know her name. He vaguely remembered her standing up for him, trying to protect him even though he’d done nothing to deserve her loyalty.

  Therefore, she had to be crazy. Who in their right minds would protect a Silent One?

  He tested his limbs, kicking his legs and flexing his arms.

  Wait. Arms?

  His left arm was there, but it wasn’t. Something was attached to the stump of his missing limb. He extended his senses and studied the thing with his second sight. It was an arm. It felt strange and not entirely organic.

  As he made an experimental fist, he became aware of a familiar, oppressive presence. It was so pervasive he wondered how he could have missed it.

  “A risk and a reward.” The General’s deep voice filtered through the speakers in his breathing apparatus. “It is a composite, made up of your own biological material and a cybernetic framework.”

  That explained why it felt so strange.

  “The cybernetic framework will give you increased strength. It has been integrated into your nervous system. I presume you are ambidextrous?”

  Naturally, Ashrael answered, before he remembered that the General couldn’t use mindspeech. He didn’t have the talent.

  “Of course,” he said, his voice sounding hollow from within the confines of his helmet. “But why would you give me such a thing?”

  “As I said, it is both a risk and a reward. I am under no illusions when it comes to your past loyalties, but a true Silent One would not risk his life for the sake of a Human, nor would he be able to kill one of his brethren.”

  “It would be a violation of the mindbond,” Ashrael agreed. His kind were not programmed to rescue or save anyone. For the first time in his life, he’d acted of his own free will.

  “I have returned what I took from you, but do not forget that I can take it away from you at any time. Granted, I am taking a risk with you, but through your actions, you have demonstrated that you are more than just a mindless slave.”

  “What do you want from me?” Nothing in the Universe was given freely.

  “Many things. Your knowledge, your skills, your loyalty. Your co-operation in carrying out an impossible task.”

  Ashrael stared at the General with his sightless eyes. He could guess what Akkadian was alluding to. “How would working for you be any different than working for the Empire? I would still be under the rule of another.”

  “In our Universe, freedom is a privilege, not a right. What would you do with true freedom, katach? Spend the rest of your life running from the Empire? Play out the meaningless existence of a drifter? There is a Kill Order on your head now. Your brethren will not stop until you are dead. I am offering you the chance to break free of your existential shackles. In the New State, we do not abide by slavery.” The General shrugged. “Take it or leave it. It would be a shame to lose one of your talent, but I can always find another.”

  Ashrael made a fist, testing the power of his new arm. The strength flowing through his modified limb was impressive. He felt as if he could crush Callidum between his fingers. “You seek to manipulate me by appealing to my emotions and playing on my weaknesses.” He wasn’t angry or surprised. The General’s ploy was logical.

  “Is it manipulation, or truth? You have never had to rely on your own moral compass before. Figure out what you want, katach. I’m offering you a choice. There is not much freedom in it, but it is better than what you have now.” Akkadian moved closer to the stasis tank, peering through its thick walls. “I will give you some time. Think on it.” He turned on his heel and began to walk away. As he reached the exit, he paused, looking over his shoulder.

  An odd emotion radiated from him; he seemed almost… amused. “Oh, and your Human has been asking to see you. I am of two minds as to whether I should allow it. Of course, my decision will depend on your answer.”

  The General disappeared through the Qualum door, leaving Ashrael alone to think about the meaning of his existence.

  He tried to empty his mind and find the center of his energy, but equilibrium eluded him.

  It was because of her. She invaded his mind and clouded his thoughts. His memories of her were more vivid and potent than anything else. He’d absorbed her with all of his senses, including his ka’qui, and now he savored the reassurance of her presence. Their bond was like a tree. It had grown from a small, fragile seedling and it continued to spread its roots.

  It was effortless and natural and he’d never experienced anything like it.

  He remembered the feeling of her hands pressing against his chest as he lay on the muddy ground. She had long, elegant fingers and her skin was warm and smooth. Her touch had been firm and reassuring, and in that moment, she’d exuded quiet strength. Rykal had been right; he hadn’t needed her help to stop the bleeding, but he’d kept her by his side anyway. He’d been secretly afraid that after this little stunt, they would lock him up forever and he would never see her again.

  So he’d kept her hand on his chest for as long as he could before his world faded to black.

  And now he was trapped again, suspended in icy cold restoration fluid with fire raging through his veins.

  The heat spread to his loins, gifting him with a raging hard-on that made him bite the inside of his lip. He tasted his own bitter blood as he tried to suppress his arousal.

  Kaiin’s hells. He was riddled with knife-wounds, his ribs were broken in several places, one of his lungs had just been re-inflated, and all he could do was lust after a fragile, crazy Human.

  What was this feeling? Why did it feel as if his cold black heart had suddenly come to life after being perpetually frozen?

  Ashrael, are you awake? She called to him in crystal clear mindspeech. Her voice made him want to tear down the sides of his stasis tank and go to her. The intensity of his need made his erection almost painful.

  Ah, shit. If the General had somehow anticipated this, then he was a skilled manipulator indeed.

  Figure out what you want.

  The bastard.

  Ashrael? Her sweet voice was full of concern.

  I am fine, he replied, even though he was anything but.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Morning brought with it a special kind of stillness. When Noa looked out her window, the ground was still wet and the hardy bushes and shrubs scattered around the house glistened with moisture.

  A hush had settled over the land, punctuated only by the distant twitter of birdsong. It was as if the surroundings themselves were reverent of the dawn, paying silent homage to the rare event that had passed in the night.

  For it rarely ever rained in the desert.

  Noa had slept fitfully, her dreams haunted with images of dead assassins and Ashrael wounded and bleeding, his eyes closed, his pale face slowly turning grey as he crossed over into the afterlife. In her dreams, she hadn’t been able to feel their bond.

  To her relief, she could feel it now. He was alive.

  Just beyond her door, two armored Kordolians stood watch. When she closed her eyes and opened her mind, she could feel their auras, deadly and unwavering. After her near-capture,
the General was taking no chances. They had moved her to a more secure part of the compound, and they’d scoured the surroundings throughout the night, searching for any sign of intruders.

  As she pulled on a thermal jacket, a soft knock at the door made her turn. She opened the door and found Zyara standing before her.

  “He’s awake,” the medic informed her. “General Tarak says you may see him now. Afterwards, you’re scheduled for training with Elgon.”

  Noa hid her surprise at the General’s decision. After what had happened last night, she was sure she’d be denied access to Ashrael, but the Kordolians had treated her request as if it were the most natural thing on Earth. It was almost as if they’d been expecting her reaction; it was as if they knew something she didn’t.

  She followed Zyara as they headed out of the dwelling, making for the collection of alien looking structures she’d come to think of as the ‘facility’. Despite their sinister appearance, in reality they were a lot less creepy than the place where she’d been held captive by the crazies.

  Two guards trailed behind them, a pair of silent black specters carrying a sizable arsenal between them.

  The three Kordolians hid their faces from the morning sun, Zyara donning a pale blue shawl and the warriors concealing their features under full armor. Noa was the only one who basked in the morning glow.

  Humans were born to the light, whereas Kordolians thrived in darkness. Perhaps they needed one another, like day needed night.

  A dark shadow crossed over them, and Noa saw a sleek alien spacecraft flying overhead. It descended rapidly, heading towards a landing area in the distance. For such a large craft, it was strangely quiet, unlike the noisy Human-made skyflyers she’d traveled on from time to time.

  “Reinforcements,” Zyara said. “The first of many. There won’t be a repeat of last night’s attack.” There was a hard, angry edge to her voice. A few weeks ago, Noa might have thought it uncharacteristic of the medic to sound so vengeful, but then again, Zyara was Kordolian, and underneath her calm exterior lay the fierce soul of a warrior.