by Grant Fausey
The Trods had no idea of the significance of what was in store for them. The Kelfee warrior prided himself on heritage more than the ancient writings of temple row. Jerolda couldn’t help but wonder if the two bipeds were destined to fulfill the prophecy set forth in the Book of Jobellan, as stated in the Indigna. It was evident the future was dependent on addressing his concerns before the end of the first course. Otherwise, the context of the ancient ritual so loved by his granddaughter would be tainted with the subtleties of the evening meal.
“Grandfather …” said the young Gandee, curiously. He wondered if she was reading his thoughts. Why else would she come to a rubble orchard like Ales Mar? She was referring to the Trods. The newcomers were out of place, different than one would expect of archeologists, or those messy grave robbers. Still, like any self-respecting twin-tailed tree-dweller, Grolla Manchi had to keep and eye on them yet keep her distance. There was no point in both of them getting killed. She would leave that item to her grandfather. She had to get to know the intruders, before considering their intentions. In the meantime, she would tell her friends, alert her brothers, and plot the demise of impending doom.
Relix and Tee, however, presented no real threat to either Jerolda or his granddaughter. They were nothing like the hairless men who lived above the mist line or scavenged the ruins for personal gain. They were of different worlds, extra-terrestrial in design. Perhaps, engineered by the same people responsible for the temples on the Ales Mar. Jerolda instinctively sniffed the air for any sign of danger then pushed off the terra-root branch with both hands, hitting the brush on all four paws. The newcomers meant the mother load for a scavenger like the old Gandee. The prospect of fresh supplies, which had eluded him for far too long, now presented the rare opportunity to dine in the wilderness. The Kelfin only invited quests to a feast when they were hungry or full, the latter being more profitable.
“Stay put,” he told his granddaughter, hoping she would listen. But she never did. The moment he was out of sight, she’d be off the branch and on her way to tell the others about the newcomers. She was as inquisitive as a newbin babe. And cute, her short brownish-green fur ruffled as she drew in a breath and sneezed. Something besides the two travelers was present in the woods. The old Gandee’s eyes went large as saucers, the odor of an animal alerting his senses to the scent of a Mannukan. He had no idea of the whereabouts of the beast or that the newcomers were standing in the middle of the sloth’s runway. The sound was omni-directional, hidden by the shadow of nightfall. The temple ruins were obscured, beneath the ancient tapestry veiled beneath the eroding jungle canopy.
“Which way?” asked Jerolda. He could no longer feel the source of the beast’s movements. The Mannukan was on the hunt, circling the camp high off the ground amidst the trees, where the forest wrapped the ruins like a blanket. If the wonderers were heaven sent and not just a distraction, he would save them. Otherwise, they would be fodder under the claws of a hungry beast.
“Which way you headed?” asked the Gandee.
“How would I know?” snipped Tee. The Trod squinted his eyes to see who, or what, he was addressing in the blinding sunset. The Gandee gave him a quick once over. The Trod was obviously even more stupid than he imagined. He was downwind of the Mannukan. The historic excavation, whether legend dictated it or not, was where the newcomer was heading. He could feel the essence of the eternal source within him.
“Following your instincts?”
“Why?” Tee pointed in no obvious direction, disinterested. “You lost?”
“No––” said the bear-faced creature.
“Why don’t you try that way?” Relix did a turnabout and climbed over a rubble wall to glance at Jerolda. “Don’t tell me you’re lost again!” He was referring to his counterpart, not his guest. “Wait a minute,” he said with a wondering eye. “You’re a local, aren’t you? I’ve seen you before.”
“Nope!” Tee shook his head. “Not lost. I know where I am.”
“Why the masters ever insisted I take you along on this mission is beyond me,” huffed Relix. “Some assistant you’ve turned out to be!” Tee shrugged his shoulders, countered Relix’s malice with a good swift kick. The small biped spun out across the cobblestone like a kid on a skateboard, coming to an abrupt halt in the middle of the runway.
“What’d you do that for?”
Everything whizzed past him, even his partner.
“Would you take a look at that,” insisted Jerolda. “Why don’t you take the lead for a while.”
“Yeah,” rebutted the Trod. There wasn’t time to lollygag. They weren’t on a sightseeing trip, so the idea of handing out local employment wasn’t on the agenda. Besides, the bear-faced creature was completely outside his sphere of influence, tripping over his own four feet.
“Can you imagine it,” said Relix. “It must have been spectacular.”
“Glorious,” answered Jerolda. He had no idea what the Trod was talking about. Nevertheless, the tree dweller felt right at home with the two would-be explorers.
“What is this place––” asked the little Trod.
“Space dock … more or less. Mannuka hunting grounds now.”
A shadow slipped past the wreckage hidden in the protection of the darkness, red eyes glowing in the night like some evil predator looking for a place to hatch its next feeding frenzy. “Mannuka,” yelped Tee, his imagination running wild.
“What?” Screeched the elderly Gandee. The mere thought of being eaten alive evoked visions of long forgotten memories. He was certain he was eaten before, in another life, maybe during the great exodus when the cobblestone streets ran red with blood.
“Just think of it,” said Relix, wailing. “Dinosaur herders offloading freighters everywhere.”
“Dinosaurs––” said Jerolda, his imagination was spinning monsters to life. There had to be a monster on their trail.
“That was centuries ago for Alvericon’s sake,” rebutted Tee. Relix ignored the sarcasm.
“Let’s not bring him into this, okay?” His imagination was suddenly alive with thoughts of beating drums in his heart, the choruses of pounding hooves in his ears: A wild Mannuka on approach.
“Mannuka!” shrieked Jerolda, practically rolling on the ground in hysteria. He couldn’t help but dance around the cobblestone, stirring up a ghostly cloud of dust that filled the ruins with a fine powder that silhouetted figure of the Mannukan beast.
“Mannuka?” screamed Tee, questioning his own hearing. “Run for your lives!” The beast snarled, rearing up on its hind legs and pounced at Relix. The Trod scrambled in a wild-eyed frenzy, darting back and forth as he ran headlong into a wall, and slid down the partition to sit next to the old Gandee, eye-to-eye with the animal’s teeth. The moment of horror consumed the bear in utter terror. The beast squealed, plucked from the ground in a whirlwind of flying dust and debris that hurtled with him to the far side of the ruins.
Tee’s eyes went saucer shaped and practically poked their way out of his head. The faint shape of his savior came forth to reveal a mechanical monstrosity the size of a house. The carryall groaned, slipped forward on thick treads. The machine engaged the beast, grinding its metal skin into the Mannuka with the force of a hundred men. The fanged creature came down hard against the ground, tossed again then again as the carryall moved through the fog in an offensive posture. The beast leaped into the attack, teeth and claws extended, its fur stiffened by the nature of the incident. The sloth was fighting mad, executing brilliantly orchestrated tactics under the treads of the oversized forklift. The flatbed had pinned the creature for the time being. “Excuse me––” said the machine. “I think you all should wait outside, while I dispose of this! It won’t take a moment.”
“Saved by another of the marvelous machines,” said the Gandee. “I thought you guys were suppose to be deciphering symbols or something?” The engineering marvel smiled at the newcomers then sped away, dragging the grisly Mannukan cat behind the rear assembly, where the ma
in drive housing met the rear drive axles. The beast’s fangs hit the ground with a momentous thud, dragging across the cobblestone runway until they broke off.
Tee stared at the Gandee, but didn’t move. He found himself dangling from the forklift’s claw boom arm, held upside down up by his bootstraps. The behemoth throttled down, reversed his motors and revved his engine. “Wow––you guys are fast,” throttled the Gandee.
“Sorry about the cat,” reiterated the forklift. “Some critters are worse than others. I sure am glad you guys are okay. I thought for a minute, you were all goners. But here you are, alive.”
“We’re thankful too,” said Tee. “Never can tell what you might run into here in the outback.”
The great machine dumped the trio onto its back. Jerolda shouldered a wide grin, showing an arrangement of very sharp teeth. “Well, then …” said the mover. “You best be more careful. We wouldn’t want someone accidentally stepping on you, now would we?”
Tee glared at his counterpart. The little machine shook his head and let out a belly laugh loud enough to rattle the rafters. “You fellows just settle back and I’ll get you out of here,” said the biologically engineered machine. Jerolda Manchi steadied himself, holding onto Tee’s arm like a pair of vice grips. The machine hummed; stretched its treads and motored away, leaving Tee in a lurch against the back wall of the cargo bed. His hands shook, jittery from the rumble of the journey. He thought both eyes would bug out from the pain in his arm, but they didn’t. Instead, he treat the tree dweller like a child, better have him calm down then have a set of formidable claws around his delicate little appendage close any tighter. The pain was excruciating, but the little biped said nothing. He held off until the air horn rivaled his wailing cry.
“It’s a good thing I happened along,” said the transport. “You sidewinders might have gotten yourselves left behind, or even killed. Dublex Bancore uncovered some kind of relic this morning and he’s very excited about getting it back to base. I’ll bet he just can’t wait to tell Salnex.”
“Bancore––” chuckled Jerolda Manchi. “Now there’s a real piece of work. What a looser.”
“Who are you?” asked Tee, staring the bear-faced creature right in the eye.
“The name’s Flatbed,” said the forklift. “I’ve heard tell rumor ‘bout critters kinda like you two!” The behemoth turned around, and dropped his vision sensors eye-to-eye with his modest passengers. “Something about making heads or tails out of when the past was changed, maybe set it straight. There supposed to be some sort of mathematical experts, you know the types … super geniuses.”
Jerolda burst out in a full belly laugh.
“You fellows wouldn’t be them-there types, now would yeah?”
Relix grinned at the behemoth, a moment of grandeur. Jerolda was poking fun at the gentle giant despite his language skills. “These two––” chuckled the old Gandee, “A couple of life seekers? Now there’s a bit of hard chew.” The biomechanical vehicle shuddered to a halt, smiled, glancing back over his shoulder as he let out a tremendous backfire fart.
“Excuse me,” said the bio-lift. “Best get you boys aboard the Majestic Thunder. She departs at sunset for the sectors on other side of the Triad.”
“The Eden Sector?” Relix’s eyes flickered with calculations, encoding an encrypted message.
“Nah––” Salnex and his boys setup a genetics research lab here after the first wave forced him into hiding.”
“You mean Trinod Rex is here?” Tee lit up like a Christmas tree, the height of excitement.
“No …” insisted the crate hauler. “Not anymore. Reuben Taylor was here too for a while, before that regeneration mishap in the city a few years ago.”
“Tree City?”
“Yeah––that’s the one!”
“Who did you say you were again?”
“Name’s Flatbed.” The forklift lowered the tailgate ramp. “Seems like only yesterday Craton and his boys made that discovery. The Professor would’ve been proud of them, following his teachings like that and all.”
“The Alchemist?” asked Relix. “Grathamar Craton?”
“Yelp––” nodded the three-story forklift. “That old man learned him everything he knew ‘bout being an apprentice an all. They served together in the Genesis Wars, Craton and that Rex fellow. That’s how he got his hands on it.”
Relix’s eye glittered with the soft glow of internal long distance communication. “Might as well say Craton was the father of invention. He’s the one responsible for that there technology.”
“What technology might that be?”
“Guess it kind of makes us kin,” said Flatbed with a smile. Tee glanced up at the behemoth, not a clue as to what the big guy was talking about. But Relix did; the bio-lift had triggered something in his programming.
“Is he talking about living light?” asked Relix. The Trod stared back at him.
“Okay boys, end of the line,” shouted the transport. “You’ll find base camp just on the other side of that there ridge. It’s the small temple. Bancore and Creed should be there shortly, if they’re not already. I don’t think you’ll find what your looking for, but you can give it a try.”
Relix agreed, treading off in a hurry as he took Tee by the hand, and quicken his pace, staying well ahead of the awkward machine. Jerolda followed, staying his ground along the cobblestone pathway as he disappeared beyond the prying eyes of the machine, only to have the shadowy figure of Brakka circle overhead, on station as expected, the entire time.
TWELVE: Rebound
• • •
Krydal Starr shuddered in the wake of the distortion, her heart pounding at the slightest noise. Her beloved Jake Ramious had survived the altercation to their existence, living life in the waves of an alternate dimension. She remembered him being hit by a suburban utility vehicle and storming out of her life. “Jake––” she screamed in a panic, seeing him escape death only to run off down an alley into oblivion. The driver exited the vehicle, hysterically confessing her sins as if she’d killed him. But the hauler pilot had rolled across the hood of the SUV escaping injury. The pilot had stomped out of the house earlier, leaving her in a whirlwind of tears and fuming with rage. All in the name of love. She was blindsided by his actions, unaware of the twinkling flashes of light that raced along his body, or that they dissipated in little ringlets of energy that crossed the alley in her direction.
Jake was nowhere in sight. He had sent her for a loop, with a bruised ego to boot. She was sweltering in a moment of fury, worried about his crazed state. She had never seen him this way, acting both old and young as if he existed in a world of symbionts and auto crashes. But was it real? Had she actually seen him get hit by an automobile? A shoe smacked the grooved panels in the front door and bounced off the entranceway. It was going to take some undoing for Jake to make it up to her. There was no way she was going to let him just stroll in and out of her life … not like this. It was too painful. She couldn’t follow him any further; she had already run away from the accident, only to find him unstuck in time, living duel lives. They had dated for almost six months, or was it a year. Nothing made sense anymore. She couldn’t remember. Her memory was failing.
“It’s a damned hostile takeover,” said Crimson aloud, but this time she wasn’t talking to herself.
“It’s the only thing that makes any sense,” said Indigo. “That son-of-a-bitch lied to us.”
“Who, Salnex?” asked Crimson. Krydal was reliving a previous life experience with Indigo that according to her; never happened.
“It’s all a cover-up,” said the bounty hunter, “for some damn corporate raid.” Indigo took a step back, and followed the railing to where he could see Reuben Taylor standing in front of the Assembly Hall. The good senator was in the midst of a deep conversation with two gray-skinned individuals from the Science Academy. Advocates for the Industrial’s research project, he surmised. “Just wait till I get my hands on that son-of-a-bitch,” h
e said to the assassin, his fists clinched.
“My God––” interrupted Renniska Brennan, head administrator for the Planetary Lifecycles Commission as he approached the trio, joining Reuben Taylor and his constituents. “Whatever are we going to do, Senator?”
Taylor stared at him, in contempt. “Nothing,” he told the corporate suit. “By the time we get an audience, the future we know wouldn’t exist anymore. Besides, no one would believe us anyway. We’ll have to make the jump undetected.”
“I’ll make the arrangements,” said Brennan.
The Senator agreed. “But use somebody discrete, said Taylor. “There are plenty of legitimate Haulers out there, but not too many we can trust.”
“What about the team?”
“Reassign the crew of the Firehawk,” insisted Reuben Taylor. “Give them a cover story––a survey, or some shit. I don’t care what … just get us to Sodin, before someone figures out what is going on out there and activates the defense perimeter.”
“Understood?” Brennan spun around in answer to a commotion on the landing behind him.
“And Indigo?”
“Do it quickly,” said Taylor. “I don’t think we have much choice.”
The Senator slipped past Brennan in route to a pair of nerdy-looking, gray-skin scientists who needed his undivided attention. The first was a skinny menagerie of alien and humanoid body parts, a hybrid blue-gray skinned extraterrestrial named Alexander Bay, the other, Lexus McKay, more or less a woman, entered the landing facility through the courtyard following an odd-looking bird-like contraption with long tail feathers and humanistic facial features, entered via the sky-rail system. The latter greeted an off-world conductor accompanying an arrangement of travelers taking the tour route. The parrot-shaped conductor had welcomed both the tourists and commercial traffic to the Trithen Concourse.
