by James Somers
“I’ll check on it, Father.”
“I’ll go with him,” Jael said as he unfastened his flight harness.
The pair made their way to the rear hall behind the bridge compartment, bracing themselves against the walls at regular intervals to counter Grod’s evasive maneuvering.
Kale sensed a stowaway in his own compartment. The auto-door slid away to reveal a surprising guest.
“Aija, sir. What are you doing here?” Kale asked.
“Planning to leave, the same as you,” he said trying to steady himself against the gravitational forces in play throughout the ship.
“We expected that you had evacuated aboard one of the Guniran transports,” Jael said.
“And well I would have, but the Lord bid me to enter your ship before takeoff.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Young master Kale, there is much work to be done, but we must get to the right place to do it. Are we ready to make a transgate jump?”
“No, we’re trying to evade the warships.”
The prophet pushed past him, heading for the bridge—his cane tapping the metal flooring in time with his stride.
“Aija?!” Tiet exclaimed. “How did you—”
“My King, we must jump to Draconis immediately.”
“But—”
“Please, there isn’t time to explain.”
Tiet locked eyes with the prophet. “Grod, we’ve got to jump to Draconis.”
“I’d be happy to be anywhere besides here, but I can’t program the sequence right now,” he said as he fought the ship’s controls.
Wynn’s flight chair tracked sideways to the transgate controls at the science station. He began setting coordinates for the jump by reinitiating the same coordinates they had used for the recall gate to rescue Kale and the others before.
“We’re running out of room fast,” Grod said as the Equinox approached a huge mountain range. The ship skimmed just above the tree line trying to remain elusive with the warships after them. Grod spun the ship around and headed back toward the cruisers pursuing them. A total of six now had them in pursuit.
“If you’re going to do it, you had better make it fast,” Grod said.
Wynn finalized the command sequence and tapped the initiate button. The ship began to stream through a self made tunnel of light as they came upon the Vorn cruisers fast. Just before they would have collided with the warships, the trailing photons enveloped the Equinox completely. They disappeared.
EIGHT
A pungent stench filled their nostrils as they exited the Equinox—the aroma of decay, the scent of death. Kale was glad that Juli was sleeping again—she wouldn’t have been able to handle the sight of all this—her former civilization in ruins like this.
Sector City appeared much different than when they had left it three months ago. It looked like intense fighting had taken place all over the city. Nothing moved that wasn’t carried on the wind and the only people visible were the multitudes strewn in the streets and even the carrion feeders had long since given up on them.
The tall buildings had toppled in some cases and one might have counted the unbroken window panes on the fingers of one hand. Kale tried to remember where their shuttle had crashed months before, but it was so difficult to discern what had been before all of this devastation.
The boys walked off of the ramp with Wynn and Grod following. The streets had been so littered with debris that finding a level place to land had been almost impossible.
The Prophet had chosen to remain in the ship and still had not commented further on why they were required to return to Draconis. Kale’s parents remained on board as well with Juli. The Horva soldiers, Jael and Merab, remained to protect the king.
Tiet wouldn’t have liked that. They had barely persuaded him to remain on board at all. Fortunately his injuries still bothered him more than his pride. The limited medical facilities, both within the Guniran province and onboard the ship, had slowed his healing quite a bit.
“Should we split up?” Emil asked.
“No. If we do run into those Agonotti, we’ll all need as much help as we can get,” Wynn said.
The group surveyed for survivors and any supplies they might be able to use. Medical supplies were especially in need, but the ship was well outfitted with food and water.
“Just mouth-breath, boys,” Wynn said. The smell was nauseating. The ramp closed behind them in order to relieve those still onboard from the stench.
The landing party moved cautiously between bodies and debris. They walked toward a group of buildings several blocks away that appeared structurally sound, at least from a distance. They tried to avoid looking at the people. The faces contorted into nightmarish expressions—the epitaph of a doomed city.
☼
Mirah made sure her husband remained sedated and resting comfortably. She had spiked his pain meds a little, but it was for his good. He never would have let Kale go out without him into the city—especially not after almost losing him. Their parental roles had reversed since Kale’s return. Mirah had much more confidence in her son’s ability and Tiet acted as the protective parent. Juli also slept and Mirah thought of getting some rest as well. But she had to remain alert in case something happened.
She sank into a chair next to Tiet’s bed and sighed loudly. The pillow under her husband’s head certainly looked comfortable. The bumps and bruises, sustained from the impact of their rail car in the hangar bay ached all over her body. She closed her eyes for a moment, just to rest them. Unconsciousness took advantage of the opportunity and soon she was fast asleep.
☼
Aija sat at a table in the crew galley eating one of the quick preparation meals kept frozen in the cold locker. Jael watched him curiously from across the room. He had a question burning in his mind that only the prophet might be able to answer, but how to approach him, he wasn’t sure. Directly was the only way he had ever done anything and prophet or no, he needed some answers.
He got up from his seat and carried his meal over to Aija’s table and sat down in front of the prophet.
“You wish to ask me something, Jael?” Aija asked.
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
“Well then, don’t hold back. I’ll do my best to answer.”
He took a half second to consider a polite way to address it, but couldn’t think of any. “Why did Elithias destroy the Horva?”
Aija stopped chewing the food in his mouth and looked up at the soldier with a slightly puzzled look on his face. “He didn’t destroy your people. You’re still here aren’t you?”
It was too matter-of-fact for him to hear. “What I mean is,” he struggled with the words a moment. “Our families, all but the four of us were killed. Why did Elithias let that happen? We were created as slaves to the Vorn military—all we wanted was our freedom.”
“Elithias has created beings with free will, but it was not His will for them to rebel, and yet he did not stop them. Both Mithri and man alike rebelled against the Creator. If the Eternal One had prevented it by overpowering our free will, then, would we not say our right to choose was impinged upon—our freedom removed completely? And if Elithias allows us to make those choices and we rebel, then we wonder why he didn’t prevent it.”
“I know, but still—”
“Jael, the Fallen One started this war among men, against the will of Elithias, but still the He has directed the events in such a way that his purposes will ultimately be accomplished. He is turning what was meant for evil into our good.”
“But how? How is that going to be good?”
“The Logostus prophesies of a clan that is removed for its great rebellion and that would be the Baruk. But when the prophecies tell us of the kingdom to come, they include among the clans, the Artemae to take the place of the Baruk.”
Now, Jael was really confused. “Who are the Artemae?”
“The word means: taken out of us for bondage. It is the Horva alone who are the fu
lfillment of this prophecy,” Aija said. “The Eternal One has left you a remnant to begin again. Your people will ultimately be accepted and free forever in the kingdom of Elithias.”
Hope rose in Jael’s eyes now. In the midst of all the talk of judgment, mercy still prevailed in Elithias’ plan for them.
“In fact, my friend,” Aija continued, “it is only the remnant of any of the clans that will survive this war.”
He was right. While concentrating on his own people’s destruction, Jael had not really considered that the other clans faced similar circumstances. Only three Barudii remained now and even Aija’s Guniran clan would be a smaller remnant after the attack they had just witnessed back on Kosiva.
The Horva soldier drummed his fingers across the table as he sat back in his seat. His eyes were moist, but a smile abided on his face. Jael picked up his food tray and placed it in the waste container. He turned to look again at the prophet.
“Thank you, Aija,” he whispered, and then he grabbed his rifle from the other table and went to the bridge.
☼
Lucin surveyed the smoldering ruins of the Guniran province before him. Death meant nothing to him. He felt no regret and no sympathy. He waited for news on the structure he was searching for. The boy had apparently escaped with his family. He had sensed it when the young Barudii had departed the planet. The portion of his symbyte form previously implanted in Kale had been destroyed, but not his ability to sense the boy.
The Vorn warships hovered over the province. Their antigravity generators kept them aloft and their sonic emissions thundered continuously over the landscape. Some of the structurally unsound buildings had collapsed due to the constant resonance of the mighty engines in such close proximity.
“Sir!” One of Lucin’s soldiers came running up to him. “I think we have found it.”
Lucin followed the man. The soldier led him beyond the greater portion of destroyed buildings nearby. Lucin’s bodyguards followed along with them as they walked briskly through the street toward a tented complex not far in the distance. He recognized it immediately. It was the same design as the one from the days of old—a tabernacle.
Lucin’s pace quickened at the sight of it. People marched into captivity all around them and shots still rang out at random as his symbyte controlled soldiers went about the business of tearing the Guniran province apart.
Lucin stopped abruptly at the entrance to the tabernacle. A veil hung between two poles comprising the entryway. Did he dare? He had once dwelt in Mithrium itself, the dwelling place of the Eternal One, though not with these mortal members. He had walked in the garden of Elithias, oh so many ages ago. Had Elithias’ presence been here, the province never would have been taken. He dared.
Removing his blade he slashed through the poles and the veil between, and walked through. His people had a number of priests secured as prisoners inside. When he walked inside the tented complex the priests were forced to their knees before him.
“These are the books we found inside,” said one of his men.
A pile of old parchments and copies of various sorts were strewn on the ground before a wash basin and a table with other artifacts overturned. He picked up one of the documents. Opening it, his eyes fell upon the old language. “…And the one that deceived them, was cast into a lake of fire that shall never be quenched, and so shall he be tormented day and night forever and ever, amen.”
Fury welled up within Lucin from the very foundation of his being. He shredded the parchment and then glared at the others before him. “I want all of these burned!”
“Yes, sir!”
Lucin turned to leave the tabernacle. Elithias wasn’t going to tell him. The Eternal One would only mock him in his search through the prophecies.
“Sir, what about these prisoners?”
Lucin paused before leaving. “Kill them…kill them all.”
He headed back down the street to his private transport. His bodyguards followed their master’s every step. Sporadic pulse laser fire erupted behind him from the Tabernacle of Elithias. He really didn’t need to consult with the books at all—he knew the prophecies well. He knew that his time was short.
Lucin climbed back into the transport and his bodyguards seated themselves next to him. One of them took the shuttle controls and closed the entry door while powering the engine.
“Commander?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Have all of the ground forces finish up here quickly and report back to the cruisers. I want to be underway for Draconis within the next five hours.”
☼
Something, other than the total destruction of the city around them, was not right. Kale felt something, as though they were being watched. Nothing but the wind made a sound any louder than their footsteps. It generated a continuous fog of ash from the burned out ruins of the city.
Then it happened—a feeling really—a whisper of danger on the wind. Kale dodged behind a burned out vehicle in the street as explosive shells strafed the pavement where he had been standing. They potted the concrete with miniature craters upon impact. The others had sensed it also, except for Grod, but Emil had pushed his father out of the way just in time.
The air became silent again. Nothing moved. “Who do you suppose they are?” Grod asked from behind a chunk of demolished building.
“I’m not sure,” Wynn said. “Probably not Agonotti with that kind of weapon. They’re probably scared and don’t realize we’re on their side.”
“Maybe we should tell them,” Emil said. “Hello!” he shouted from his hiding place. “We are humans. We don’t mean you any harm!”
Another volley of shells strafed across the concrete and steel the group was hiding behind. “So much for that,” Kale said as he activated his E.M. shield. He set the parameters to keep the repulsor field on constantly, since it normally only repelled energy weapons.
He looked back at Wynn, who gave a look of doubt about the tactic the young man was about to employ, but he didn’t have any other suggestions to pose. Kale jumped up from behind the burned out transport and ran at the source of the weapons fire. Almost immediately, they set upon him with more explosive rounds. Some impacted his shield and burst while he managed to dodge the majority.
Kale realized the shots had come from a shell of a building one hundred feet ahead of them. The enemy gunfire remained constant, but focused solely on him. Wynn took the opportunity and hurled a spicor disc—guiding it to the target with his mind. Kale saw the disc flash past him and into the structure ahead where it exploded.
He saw someone as the disc hit their weapon and vaporized most of it. They turned to run with another person in tow, as Kale entered the building through the window they had been sniping from. These two were quick, dodging and evading him through the wreckage of the building and toppling some of it along the way to slow him. Kale pushed the debris away mentally as he continued to dog their heels in the pursuit.
They were human and young—he saw that much for sure. The pair dodged behind another wall and he lost them for a moment. Then they appeared in the street beyond running into another more intact structure. Kale leaped through a whole in the wall and headed across the street and into the other building trying to keep up with his prey. He spotted Wynn and the others coming down the street running toward the same building.
Kale paused as he entered a great hall with a number of large staircases, some heading up and others down. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted two heads dropping out of sight on one of the downward staircases.
“Where did they go,” Grod asked as they caught up with Kale.
“Down there,” Kale said as he launched out after them again. The others followed.
The lighting was dim at best as they descended into the recesses of the building’s subterranean levels. Kale tried to sense them, but Wynn already had them in his mind and said, “This way, men.”
The warriors remained so focused on the pair mentally they neglected the
ir surroundings. By the time Kale and the others finally cornered the pair of youths, they stood in a huge room with hardly any light at all. When Kale’s group crossed the space between them, emergency lighting suddenly came on, spotlighting Wynn, Kale, Emil and Grod. They pulled their weapons quickly, but the sound of a hundred gun bolts locking into firing position all around them in the dark caused them to quickly rethink their aggressive posture.
“Lower your weapons,” Wynn said as he motioned with his hands to the others and placed his blade on the ground.
The others complied apprehensively. Kale hesitated until Wynn shot him a hard look. He was right. They really couldn’t hope to defend themselves like this. Logically, if these people meant to kill them outright then they already would have done it.
Steps approached from the darkness. A young man, not much older than Kale, stepped into the light. He was dressed in tattered clothes and confident enough to stand near them with his rifle slung over his shoulder.
“Why are you here?”
“We’re not with the Agonotti, in fact we were fighting against them only a few months ago,” Kale offered.
“Yes, and then you ran away through that portal of yours. Now, why are you here?” he asked again.
“We’re here to help,” Wynn said. Hopefully the prophet had that intention for bringing them to Draconis.
The boy looked at them with skepticism. “You can’t help,” he said hopelessly. “No one can stop them now.” He turned to signal someone unseen. The room lights came on revealing nearly one hundred adolescents and children surrounding them with their weapons trained on Kale’s group. They all bore the same impoverished appearance as the young man before them.
“Where are your parents?” Emil asked.
“They’re all dead,” said the boy leader. “They died trying to fight the Agonotti.
“Has this happened in all of your cities?” Wynn asked.
