D'mok Revival: The Nukari Invasion Anthology

by Michael Zummo

  She already knew what he’d say, but she wanted to verify her theory.

  “Analysis complete,” Bob said while snapshots from multiple attacks appeared on the display. “In each recorded instance, the beasts traveled and attacked together. The same beasts were found in 70% of the attacks.”

  She knew it. “These aren’t just similar creatures attacking, these are the same creatures.”

  “There’s some variation, but for the most part, yes, I concur,” Bob said.

  Before her, one of the creatures bellowed angrily, then radiated a muddy-blue aura. It leaped up, then streaked into the sky. A chill shot through her.

  The antennae on Bob’s beetle-like shell perked up. “Eyani, their blue auras and attack capabilities …”

  The display next to her illuminated with footage of an athletically trim man wearing a mostly black jumpsuit. A golden aura washed over his body moments before a blazing white beam blasted forth from his hand.

  “I know, swap the muddy-blue for golden and it’s identical to Mencari’s team.”

  “I found something else,” Bob said. A display zoomed in on one beast.

  Her eyes locked onto the silvery emblem with jagged edges.

  “I have an 80% confirmation of Nukari markings on each beast.”

  “If the Nukari have creatures like this, things just got a lot more complicated,” she said, “I’m going to inform Colonel Tenrl.”

  No sooner had she attempted the communication, a furry hulk appeared. No matter how many times she saw it, Tenrl’s sloth-like appearance was adorable, and disarming.

  “Colonel,” she greeted him.

  “Eyani,” he replied. “I understand we have an escalation.”

  “Yes, sir. Attacks within our protective jurisdiction, by creatures exhibiting highly developed and unnatural abilities.”

  “I’ve seen the attack footage,” Tenrl said. “It reminded me of the allies we’ve made of late.”

  “I thought the same thing, sir.”

  “Contact Mencari and find out anything we can about these creatures.” Tenrl motioned to the communications console. “Maybe he’ll have some insights.”

  “Excuse the interruption,” Bob said. “But, I have a connection with Toriko Purg. She’s requesting access to locked information within our knowledge base.”

  “She’s the techie for Mencari, right?” Tenrl said.

  This time Eyani nodded, and asked, “What information does she want access to, Bob?”

  “The information concerning Professor Francis Xabier.”

  Tenrl’s eyes widened. “The Terconian agent? The one killed during the Nukari insurrection of our sister station?”

  “They were close,” Eyani said. “I know they haven’t been back long, but I wonder if Mencari hasn’t talked to her yet.”

  “What should I tell her?” Bob asked.

  “Nothing,” Eyani said. “Put me through.”

  * * * * *

  “Seven, eight, nine, ten!” the jubilant fitness instructor chirped. The children laughed in delight as they relaxed from their stretches, then scrambled into their tumbling line. Rhysus Mencari scanned the line for his son. His little man was easy to spot—Rhyiel was always the one jumping up and down with excitement. If Mencari could bottle that, he’d end the energy crisis on even the most distant Coalition worlds.

  A strange sensation drew his glance to the wall where an older boy stood, perhaps ten years old, with sandy-blond hair. Piercing, deep-green eyes glared accusingly. Mencari shifted nervously in his seat. The boy looked enraged.

  An alarm split the air, confounding parents and children alike. Rhyiel’s adorable brown eyes met Mencari’s, filled with concern.

  “Daddy?” Rhyiel said, reaching out.

  Mencari’s body tingled, and the world extruded away.

  Mencari opened his eyes, his ears still under assault by the tinny alarm next to his bed. He sighed, sitting up. Pleasant dreams of his dead son were better than the perpetual nightmare of Rhyiel’s death—and that of his wife. Though, like before, he awoke feeling tired, even after a full night’s sleep.

  The other boy’s intense deep-green eyes haunted him as he forced himself out of bed, until movement at the far end of the room drew his attention. Through the large window, lazy boulders floated past. Sometimes he liked to sit in silence and watch the chaotic yet gentle dance of the asteroid field; it seemed a giant, invisible hand moved the boulders about. Occasionally a mountain of rock would smash into another one, creating a dramatic explosion of rocky shards.

  Across the room his alien mentor, Osuto, lay quiet on his sleeping slab. The alien’s aged body belied his true power. Despite Mencari’s progress, he still had so much to learn, especially if he hoped to become as mighty as Osuto. His other roommates, the muscle-headed warrior, Naijen, and their resident weapon-smith and catman, Ujaku, were already gone.

  It wasn’t hard to figure out where Naijen was. He’d be in the mines training, as always. Ujaku was probably working in his armory or talking with Toriko. Those two seemed nearly inseparable.

  Toriko. A knot formed in the pit of his stomach. He still needed to talk to her. After searching for and hoping to find her friend Professor FX, he’d witnessed the catman’s death at the hands of the Nukari. Murdered right before his own eyes, yet Mencari was powerless to stop it.

  He found himself fidgeting with his wedding ring, his deceased wife and son at the top of his mind. Loss was never easy, and time only made the sting hurt less.

  Maybe Osuto could tell Toriko what happened to Professor FX?

  Shaking his head, he knew it was his responsibility, and that it was time to tell her the truth.

  What can I say to make this easier?

  Nothing. There was nothing pretty about this truth. Though, truth wasn’t the problem. It was the dread of seeing what the news would to do to Toriko.

  After freshening up, he’d go and talk to her. Knowing Toriko, she’d be up in the command post installing the Eden technology Eyani sent back with them.

  A gentle tone drew his attention to his Coalition communicator, which sat on the counter next to his bed. When he picked it up, the tiny screen flashed white before revealing a familiar and friendly African face.

  “Good morning, Admiral,” Mencari snapped, saluting with his free hand. It felt like eons since they’d last talked.

  Admiral Asten was his one and only lifeline back to the Human Coalition. Nearly everyone Mencari knew perished in the Nukari attack where his abilities first manifested. Admiral Asten oversaw Mencari’s recovery, and eventually brought him to the only known surviving D’mar, Osuto, for training. Asten remained his direct superior from his post at the Coalition space station around Saturn.

  “Commander,” Asten said with unusual formality. “I got your report. You were strangely vague about your new allies. What did you call it, Eden?”

  “Yes sir. I was asked not to reveal more specifics than that,” Mencari said.

  “So there’s nothing more you can tell me?”

  “No sir. The alliance is new, and I don’t want to weaken the opportunity. I just need time, sir.”

  “I see,” Asten said coolly. “I’ll review this with my superiors. If there’s further follow-up, I’ll contact you.”

  “Understood, sir.”

  Asten hesitated, his eyes conflicted. After a moment he said, “There were those who didn’t expect much once you were sent to Osuto. You’ve proved them very wrong. Good work, Mencari.”

  * * * * *

  Stepping from the lift, pain shot between Mencari’s temples. Restless nights weren’t his only problem. A million thoughts and a constant stream of plans pillaged his mind. He ran his fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp. It felt good. Sometimes it felt like the only thing that kept his head from exploding.

  Looking ahead, his eyes scoured the dimmed corridor. The asteroid base’s systems were in night mode, which he found eerie. He wasn’t fond of the dark. Too often it play
ed as a canvas of his mind, one that made manifest his fears and paranoias.

  Already falling victim to the past, imprints from the recent mission to Eden’s sister station took shape in the shadows before Mencari. Bloated bodies lay strewn across the corridor. Every living thing had died in the same instant, the result of a vicious Nukari radiation attack. The gruesome sight wasn’t the worst part. The smell—he’d never forget that awful, permeating stench.

  The memory of Professor FX’s last moments surfaced. The glow from the Nukari soldier’s weapon looked hellish as it shot toward the fleeing hostage. A sizzling hole gradually burrowed into the man’s back, punching through the other side, sending the punctured body flailing forward. When Mencari reached the body and turned it over, the catman’s tormented face was frozen, twisted in agony.

  A bark from ahead pulled him from his thoughts. Spark, Toriko’s robotic dog, sat dutifully at the door to the control center. His beagle-like face and visor eyes were as endearing as ever. But something about the dog looked different.

  Then Mencari realized what the difference was. Its body was noticeably larger, bulkier. He recalled the battle on Nicia, when Spark was almost destroyed by the thick tentacles of indigenous purple creatures. Perhaps during repairs, Toriko reinforced Spark’s body? Regardless, it was good to see him up and fully functional.

  “Hey, boy,” he said, and entered the control room, where a pair of girlish legs stuck out from an access panel under the main console. He couldn’t help but smile as they comically flailed, trying to gain traction and push her deeper inside. She abruptly paused and called out, “Ujaku?” Her query was muffled and overly cheerful.

  “It’s Rhysus, Toriko.”

  She clumsily worked her way out, cautiously disentangling herself from the wires snagged on her two-tone jumper, around the many gizmos in her pockets, and in her hair. While appearing mostly Human, Tericonians had a range of cat-like features from colored fur and pointy ears, to feline eyes, noses, and even whiskers. In Toriko’s case, large, fluffy ears poked through her black shoulder-length locks. Her smaller-than-usual nose and extraordinary large, teal-colored eyes gave her terminally cute appearance. Funny how his first impression of Toriko had been of an awkward, spaced-out, catgirl-geek. Despite her brilliance, and notable attempts otherwise, she had a disheveled charm about her. Even when her creations went awry, which happened often, it was hard to get angry with her. In addition to her good intentions, she had a wide-eyed innocence that short-circuited his frustrations.

  He noticed a new gadget suspended down over her left eye. The transparent panel flashed with constant readings and tiny diagrams.

  “Good morning!” she said, beaming at him while she freed the last of the wires and tucked them back inside the access panel. “I was kind of hoping it was Ujaku with those final parts.”

  “How’s it going?” Mencari asked.

  She sealed up the panel and popped to her feet. Combing her hair down with her fingers, she said, “I’ve started to install that probe tech Eden gave us. Had to make a few adjustments to the sensor array and power grids, but it’s coming along. The directions Eyani sent were really easy to follow. In fact, once the parts Ujaku’s bringing up are in, I’ll be done!”

  “Done?” he said, surprised. “Already?”

  “I told you I was the best,” Toriko said, then laughed. “I still can’t believe I said that.”

  “Say, what’s that?” He pointed at her eye.

  “Oh, just some augmented-reality gizmo I whipped up.” She grinned. “It’s especially handy when I don’t have free hands. It automatically brings up information about the things around me without having to ask it!”

  She blushed. “It even stopped an install mistake I nearly made.”

  “Did you actually embed it in your body?”

  “No, no. I know most on my world get into that, but no thanks,” she said, hands a blurred wave before her.

  A queasy feeling overcame Mencari. He knew he was stalling.

  “Oh, and hey, before I forget, I have Mini-T working on that crystal we brought back from Nicia.”

  Nicia. The desert world with the enormous, abandoned colony swallowed up by the sands. Allia had fallen ill from radiation poisoning from the mission to Naijen’s world, and was being treated at Eyani’s medical facilities. Not knowing how long the cure would take, Eyani asked Mencari’s remaining team to retrieve some artifacts left by her people on the dead Nicia. Among other objects, a spherical crystal similar to D’mar memory crystals was found. Eden experts reviewed it, but weren’t able to extract anything useful. They gave it to Mencari, in hopes of one day accessing its secrets.

  His thoughts returned to Mini-Toriko, or Mini-T as they called her, an artificial intelligence created by Toriko to assist in complicated technical functions. She typically appeared as a small holographic projection, wearing the old gamer-geek XoXo-themed fox costume that Toriko herself wore when Mencari and she first met.

  “Any idea what’s on the crystal yet?” he said.

  “Not yet, but I’ll let you know. But I know something’s in there!”

  Mencari nodded, his mind on something far less pleasant.

  “I thought you’d be excited about that!”

  “I am,” he said, halfhearted. “Say, Toriko, there’s something we should talk about—”

  “Oh, you know, I wanted to ask you about something too. I think I found some files about Professor FX in Eden’s knowledge repository, but I can’t get in. Eyani said I needed to talk to you too. Which I thought was a little strange.”

  His chest tightened as his mind raced to find the right words. How do you say it?

  “There’s, ah, a lot more to Professor FX than I think you realize,” he started.

  “What do you mean?” she said. “I’ve known him for years.”

  He sighed, giving up. “Toriko … there’s a reason Eden has information about him.”

  “What do they know about him? Was he in trouble?”

  “Eyani said he was one of their agents.”

  “On Tericn?” she said in disbelief. “He worked for Eden?”

  “One of their lead technologists.”

  He watched her expression change from doubt to alarmed clarity.

  “He was always working on crazy projects—cool ones too.” Her whiskers twitched. “I even helped when he got stuck, fixing things his students couldn’t work out….”

  Her eyes grew suspicious, looking Mencari over. She said, “Wait. If he was an agent, what are they doing to help find him?”

  Here we go. “We know he was kidnapped by the Nukari.”

  “My sister Maro told us that from her search in Bansa’s systems,” she said with growing angst.

  “We didn’t know where, before.”

  “Where?” She moved toward him. “Where is he?”

  “Toriko …” He swallowed, buying himself one more moment. “They—the Nukari killed him. I’m so sorry.”

  The hollowness of denial swallowed the bright spark that gleamed in her eyes. The spark morphed into the sick welling of guilt and failure. Her mouth gaped as a soft “No” escaped her lips.

  “We found his body on the last mission.”

  Her hands flailed, fumbling for the seat behind her, and she lowered into it. “How did it—?” She shook her head. “Um … were you able to find anything more out?”

  “We think he led the Nukari to Eden’s science station.” Mencari’s mind shaped and reworked phrases. “When we got there, and stopped the insurrection, we believe the Nukari panicked and killed the professor rather than allowing his rescue.”

  “So he was alive when you got there?”

  “Briefly.”

  “And you didn’t save him?”

  “Toriko, I tried—we all tried,” he fumbled out. “The Nukari were fleeing, and we were gaining ground. Before we could stop them, one blasted a hole right through him.”

  “Oh Eudora!” A flood of tears matted her fuzzy face.


  That could have been worded better, he thought. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

  She looked away, holding her gaze on an arbitrary point on the wall. He watched her struggle to contain the sobs he knew wanted to escape.

  “And … um …” She choked out, “Where … Where is his body now?”

  “With Eden.”

  “At the Trading Post?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  “And you didn’t tell me? The professor’s dead, and you didn’t tell me?” she said, tears drying, replaced by a fire in her eyes.

  “I wasn’t sure what to say,” he stammered. “We had just gotten back from the mission.”

  “And what? You were tired? You just wanted to take a little rest first?”

  Her words stung, mostly because they rang true, and he knew it. Mencari heard heavy footsteps clopping down the corridor toward them. Only one person could make such noise: their crystalline matriarch, Seigie.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said.

  “Sorry?” she rebuffed, but then bit her lip. For the first time he saw bitterness ooze from her. “What’s a few more hours alone in a refrigerator? He’s dead anyway, right?”

  She stormed past Mencari.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To get a ride to the Trading Post. I need to visit a friend—in the morgue.”

  Seigie rounded the corner and entered the command center, saying, “Still popular with the ladies, I see.” Even in the command center’s gentle lighting, he could see the sickly blue-green crystal affliction that ran across her face. Despite her incredible age, Seigie still appeared youthful and beautiful. It was among the few positive side effects from the crystal infusions used by the ancient D’mar to accelerate the emergence of her D’mok Warrior abilities. The consequence of their actions doomed her to turn, bit by bit, into a living mass of crystal.

  “Not one of my better moments,” he lamented.

  “Wait. Did you just tell her—”

  Mencari stifled her with a raised hand.

  “Well, at least she’s not a hysterical mess on the floor,” Seigie said. “Which is more or less what I thought would happen.”