The Smuggler's Ascension: The Ties That Died

by Christopher Ingersoll

  Kristof had wanted a way for his power from being the Utani’van’Morto to be used to shield Sabine when he had to be away. What use was having this power to slay a god if it wasn’t capable of protecting someone he loved? None of the scanning equipment that the science division possessed had been able to even detect the power within Kristof, though. He could feel it inside him like a cold, hard fist but the scanners showed nothing at all unusual.

  Thoughts then turned to the armillary in the Phantom’s cargo hold. Cassandra’s Sphere of the Universe, Subat had called it. Kristof didn’t want to think about Subat, though. His guilt was still a vast black chasm in his heart, but like his anger, he kept it tightly controlled and hidden. Both had faded for a time when he and Anasha had cried together in Subat’s house back on Purannis, but the anger and guilt had slowly crept back over his spirit as time went by, and seeing his deceased father-in-law’s spirit the day before after the dark brush on his mind had brought it all fully back to him. It didn’t seem to matter that Subat seemed happy.

  So instead Kristof focused on Cassandra’s sphere. On the trip to Dorcanus, Max had taken all of Sabine’s notes and research on ancient legends and combined it with everything Stephan’s researchers had found to create a database to help simplify their research. Max had then taken words and phrases that they already knew the meaning of and added them into the language translator to hopefully begin to start deciphering the untranslated legends from the oldest archives.

  “Computer,” Kristof spoke quietly to the waiting terminal, “Search legends database for references to Sphere of the Universe.”

  “Processing,” the terminal responded in its mechanical voice. “Wait time approximately ten minutes.”

  The delay was irksome, Kristof thought as memories were allowed to surface once again. Being in orbit over Dorcanus II had stirred up everything in his head, until he began reliving that fateful mission as he waited now. No matter how much he tried to think of something else, his thoughts eventually returned to it as if like a boomerang.

  The darkness of the mining facility always seemed to loom large in these memories, as if the darkness was something alive and against him. The missile strike that took the lives of part of Alpha Team as they attempted to capture Salas Arctura was engraved in his mind in fine detail, as was the orbital strike that killed Beat Team. And then the chase through the mining facility, allowing Max and most of his remaining team to escape, while he, Subat, and one remaining team member sought to run would come to him, also in exquisite detail. The names of his lost team members ran through his mind, each one an indictment against his stubbornness. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t totally to blame.

  It was Subat’s death that constantly played in his mind over and over, though. Subat’s personal shield failing, and then the fateful shot that ruptured the power cell on Subat’s backpack and caused him to be thrown through the air and land with a sickening thud. He could hear the words ‘my…son…’ also repeated over and over, the sound overlapping his memory of dropping his father’s body into the molten pit below so as to deny it to the enemy.

  Kristof jumped as the computer terminal beeped at him, and he realized he had fallen asleep. He sighed as he ran his hand through his hair, as if by that action he could force the memories back into their lockbox. They did recede as he focused on the computer terminal and found three results for the term Sphere of the Universe.

  Two of the results showed the words, but had not been able to translate the remaining body of words surrounding it. The final result came from a newer text that the computer had been able to translate. Kristof brought up the resulting file eagerly, glad to have something to change his thoughts.

  According to the old legend, the Sphere of the Universe had been created by Anza’Tai as a tool in her search to find her Father, the father of all of the Gods. As the tale explained, the Goddess had been very close with the Father and had been deeply saddened when the Father left his children and the universe after the death of Suthanara and Azrael’s, here called Orsan’Seti or Keeper of the Dead’s, banishment. When the Sphere failed to find the Father, it was given over to the children of Anza’Tai to learn the ways of the universe.

  Kristof suspected that the legend left some rather important points unsaid. Why would a Goddess need a tool to find the Father, unless the Gods were not as powerful as people had been led to believe? Certainly a tool would not be able to do anything the Goddess could not already do herself, Kristof thought to himself. He began to suspect she had been searching for something else, a place to hide perhaps.

  Turning off the terminal in frustration, Kristof rose and looked in on his wives again. Both were still sleeping peacefully and he had no wish to disturb them. Max would not be reassembled until morning, so Kristof found himself with nothing to do. Leaving the suite, he made his way down to the Phantom and went in search of Slag, his old combat training android.

  Slag had been with Kristof for many years, though his present incarnation did not resemble the android Kristof had known. For much of his time with the android, Slag had been a patchwork assembly of different parts as some broke and needed to be replaced any way possible. That had all changed when their old ship, the Wraith, had been destroyed during the landing on Purannis’s orbital station. Slag’s body had been destroyed, but his memory core had been salvaged and placed in a new body.

  Now the android was a sleek looking green and white model whose parts all matched. Slag seemed to miss his former mismatched appearance at times, Kristof thought, and the android would paint an arm or a leg a different color that clashed with the rest of his appearance. Kristof found Slag in the Phantom’s engineering compartment, where he frequently worked when not being used as a hand-to-hand trainer.

  “Hey buddy,” Kristof greeted Slag. “How have you been doing, my friend?”

  “I am operating at 98% efficiency,” Slag said in his technical manner. The android had a tendency to flip between being a technical guru to a synthetic philosopher, an odd combination for an android, Kristof thought. The android had frequently offered excellent insights for Kristof, however, when his mind was troubled. “At this hour, I suspect you are not here for idle conversation. Do you wish to train?”

  “Actually, I do,” Kristof said with a smile. “I’ve missed our sparring sessions.”

  “Life has become much fuller for you of late,” Slag noted as they made their way to the mess hall and began moving tables. There were training mats stored along the wall for when the mess hall doubled as a training room.

  “That it has,” Kristof agreed as he laid out a section of matting. “Sometimes I long for those simpler days.”

  “One thinks that your simpler days would not integrate well with your spouses,” Slag pointed out, “And one believes you value your wives more than a simple life.”

  “As always, you are correct,” Kristof said with a laugh as they positioned the last mat, amused by the android’s peculiar way of referring to himself.

  Kristof removed his boots and socks after laying his jacket aside. Slag waited on the mat for him, watching him curiously.

  “What level do you wish to train at?” Slag asked as he waited.

  “Let’s make it one degree below lethal,” Kristof said after a moment, his dark thoughts from earlier returning. “I need to burn off some stress.”

  “As you wish,” Slag responded. “One must inform you that my programming was upgraded along with this new body. One does not wish to harm you.”

  “I will trust your judgement,” Kristof said as he immediately moved to attack.

  The sparring session was exactly what Kristof had needed, as he lost himself in the rhythm and flow of the combat. Slag had not lied when he had said his programming had been updated, and Kristof found himself having to contend with new fighting styles he had not encountered before. Both combatants landed heavy blows, and Kristof was soon sweating heavily.

  Slag landed a blow to Kristof’s head that staggered h
im and made him fall to one knee. Kristof’s head spun from the blow as all of the anger and guilt he had forcefully buried in his mind earlier suddenly sprung free like compressed springs being unleashed. With a roar, Kristof surged to his feet and launched a ferocious attack that made Slag have to fully defend without any chance of a counter attack.

  Kristof kept attacking, his rage blinding him now as it swirled uncontrolled through his head, and his punches and kicks grew harder and faster until a savage leaping kick landed on Slag’s hip joint. The joint blew apart in a crash of parts and hydraulic fluid as the android crumbled to the ground and tapped the floor in a sign of submission. At first Kristof did not see the sign through his rage, but then he quickly came to his senses and fell to his knees beside the crippled android.

  “Damn, Slag, I am so sorry,” Kristof said as he surveyed the damage, his chest heaving.

  “One thinks that maybe your head has become too full of things best let go,” Slag said as he took in Kristof’s appearance.

  “I…” Kristof began, and then stopped, finding no words. His mind felt dark and unclear.

  The sound of running footsteps came to them then, and moments later Anasha appeared in the doorway. She was out of breath and dressed in a small pair of shorts and a training bra, apparently having dress rapidly and running the whole way there from their quarters. She immediately came to Kristof and feel to her knees beside him.

  “What is it, baby?” Anasha asked breathlessly, her voice filled with concern. “Sabine and I awoke to feel your rage and despair swirling like a tornado down here. She made me rush down here to make sure you were ok.”

  “I…” Kristof tried again, but still could not find words as the feeling of something swelling in his chest began to grow larger and larger.

  “Its father, isn’t it,” Anasha said knowingly, looking deep into Kristof’s eyes. “Being back there on Dorcanus brought it all back, didn’t it?”

  Kristof could only nod, his voice failing him completely as his memories again flashed back to his failed mission and his father’s death. Anasha grabbed him and pulled him tight to her, resting his head on her chest as she whispered her love to him. Things grew dark in his vision as the effort of being awake started to become too much. Anasha sensed his fading and forced him to his feet as a pair of crew members appeared and went to assist Slag.

  Anasha pulled and prodded Kristof through the Phantom until they reached his cabin, where she allowed him to fall upon the bed. He felt lost in the dark and cold as Anasha pulled his sweat soak clothing from him and found a towel to dry him off quickly. She then pulled the blanket from beneath him and covered him with it.

  Darkness was falling as his memories churned, and Kristof heard Anasha on the comm, with Sabine most likely he thought distractedly, and his eyes closed. He felt Anasha climb into the bed next to him to offer her warmth as he felt himself trembling, partly from being cold and partly from the memories that were overwhelming him.

  Anasha was saying something to him, but Kristof found he could not hear her clearly. Finally all sense faded until he was alone with his memories and guilt, until even those faded and he fell into a darkness black as pitch.

  ~24~

  Anasha knelt frantically near Kristof’s head as he passed out, and she placed her hands on his temples to try and get a sense of what was happening. What she felt was an overpowering sense of anger and guilt that had become embroiled with the power that had been thrust upon him by the Phoenix God, as well as a fading touch of darkness that evaporated like smoke at her touch. Kristof’s spirit had become engulfed in this raging storm and was lost in its darkness.

  The guilt was not hard to identify as images of Anasha’s father continually resurfaced. Anasha cried to herself at seeing that guilt because she had been sure that she and Kristof had resolved this matter already. Her father had warned her of this, though. Apparently some personal demons were not so easily vanquished. That these emotions had become entangled with his newfound power and was threatening to drown his soul was alarming.

  Anasha had planned to wait for help to arrive, but she sensed that they did not have much time before Kristof was lost in the storm forever, so she allowed herself to be drawn into that raging maelstrom of guilt and anger as she searched for her husband within. She drew a shield of love around herself to keep the anger and guilt at bay as she moved through the storm of Kristof’s mind, hoping to find him quickly.

  The Father’s power had amplified the things Kristof had been feeling so that they were totally out of proportion to what they should have been, and was the source of this mental storm. As she went deeper, Anasha also started to get the sense of feelings and emotions that should not have been Kristof’s. There was a monstrous guilt present beneath Kristof’s that had nothing to do with her father’s death, she began to feel.

  Visions of Cassandra, Pyreus, and Azrael began to appear that were very similar to the vision Anasha had seen on Durani, though these visions came fast and furious and were not the same as on Durani. She saw the Gods as they had been when the universe was new, and how they all grew as the stars aged and died and were reborn. Anasha began to feel that these visions were actually memories of the Father that were somehow still tied into the power that Kristof now wielded.

  Kristof’s own anger and guilt had triggered these memories within the power, Anasha now knew. Her only hope, therefore, was to find Kristof in the madness and make him deal with his own guilt head on.

  “Kristof!!!” Anasha yelled into the psychic maelstrom of his mind. “Please, baby, you have to help me now! Where are you, my love?”

  Only the sounds of the storm answered her, and Anasha began to despair, until she felt her own soul grow brighter and stronger. She knew without reaching out that Sabine had arrived in Kristof’s cabin and joined her strength to Anasha’s through their shared connection. Their connection to Kristof was still dark, however.

  Anasha continued to push deeper into the storm, seeking for any sign of her husband’s spirit in the madness that raged around her. It was like trying to walk through a sandstorm, she thought to herself, where the wind and the sand eventually made your skin feel raw, only this storm made her mind feel like an exposed nerve. Even with Sabine’s love and support, she would not be able to continue much longer in her search.

  As suddenly as the storm of emotions had engulfed her, Anasha fell into a quiet, peaceful area of Kristof’s mind. The eye of the storm, she thought to herself as she tried to regain her equilibrium. That was when she noticed Kristof on his knees at the center of this quiet area, his head resting on his chest and his arms limp at his sides.

  The light of his spirit was dim when compared to the brilliant beacon of her own. Anasha rushed to him and knelt before him and lifted his chin so she could see him. His eyes had gone black, unseeing, as she could see the images that raced through his mind. She grew afraid when she saw things in those images that Kristof should not have known, memories that could only have been the Father’s memories of the Gods.

  “Kristof, my love,” Anasha whispered to him as he remained lifeless in her hands. “Come back to me, come back to Sabine. We need you, baby. These memories you are seeing are not yours, you have to fight them, love.”

  “It’s too much,” Kristof whispered, his voice barely audible. “Let me go.”

  Anasha wailed in despair as she tried to push the light of her and Sabine’s spirit past those dark images, but she could barely touch Kristof’s spirit. Her tears sprung forth as she desperately sought a way to reach Kristof inside that black pit of despair that he was drowning in.

  Suddenly, a third presence joined Anasha there in Kristof’s mind, a vastly powerful presence and she recognized the soul of the baby under Sabine’s heart. The blackness in Kristof’s eyes faded and Anasha was able to see the green of his eyes at last even as she sensed his spirit growing brighter. Sabine’s spirit appeared beside Anasha’s, and she also knelt to take Kristof’s hand, and the three of them knelt
holding hands in a triangle as the baby’s soul hovered over them in a great glowing light.

  “The Father’s power that he left behind is fraught with his own grief at what his children had wrought and then destroyed,” came a voice that could only be the baby’s. “Father’s own grief and guilt awoke the memory of that grief left within the power, though not without help. I sense Azrael’s touch in this. Father must deal with his guilt and grief or this will happen again. I can withhold the storm for a time, but not for long.”

  “Kristof,” Anasha called, and was relieved to see that he heard her now. “Talk to us, my love.”

  “It’s all my fault,” Kristof whispered, “He should be here for you, and he’s gone because I was so stubborn, so stupid.”

  “No, love,” Anasha cried as she pulled Kristof into her arms and hugged him tightly. “You know my father, he never did anything he didn’t want to. He chose to go with you and stay by your side. You saw him yesterday, did he seem angry or resentful towards you?”

  “No,” came Kristof’s only response.

  “Subat does not wish or want this for you,” Sabine added as she also hugged Kristof and Anasha both. “He valued life and love, not this anger and guilt, my love. He would want you to fight for Anasha and me, and for our child. You have to forgive yourself, my love, because he already has.”

  Anasha pulled back to see Kristof’s face, and saw black tears escape his eyes, tears with tiny flashes of lightning in them, and suddenly she understood the baby’s comment about Azrael’s touch causing this was happening. The tears flowed faster, until suddenly Kristof leaned his head back and screamed. The scream was accompanied by a great cloud of black smoke filled with flashes of lightning.