D'mok Revival: The Nukari Invasion Anthology

by Michael Zummo

  Mencari approached the nearest statue and read the plaque at the bottom. “Alenbenar Crudanwitz. Is that his name or a title?”

  “His name,” the cadet said, smirking. “This is the Warrior’s Garden. Our greatest champions are here. Alenbenar is—was—among them.”

  “Champions of what?”

  The boy pointed to a structure Mencari thought might be a stadium that towered above the trees of the park.

  He was right. “Every week there are battles in the stadium,” the cadet said. “The winners return and fight to retain their title. At the end of the year, the winners from each month compete to be the annual victor. Then every six years, the victors compete to be designated Aloan Champion. Their final battle is the newest champion versus the standing Aloan Champion. Only three times has a returning champion retained their title.”

  “Interesting,” Mencari said.

  “The battles are epic!” the cadet said, looking fondly toward the stadium.

  Examining the statues further, Mencari marveled at the detail each one held, how lifelike each appeared.

  “When Aloan Champions are finally defeated, they are brought here,” the young man continued. “The statue is then erected around them, as a memorial to their greatness—immortalized for us to honor and remember.”

  “They’re inside the statues?” Mencari said in disbelief.

  “Yes,” the cadet said, taken aback by Mencari’s reaction. “It’s the highest honor to be an Aloan Champion. We dream of such achievement. It’s the foundation of our society. This is our way of paying tribute—showing respect—to those who have earned it.”

  The old man screamed in anguish at a small band of passersby, “Is there nothing more than proving yourself in battle? How does one’s death show worth?”

  The group turned their heads indignantly and walked the other way.

  Undeterred, A’ridar bellowed, “Is this the ‘greatest honor’ possible in life?”

  The cadet moved close to Mencari and spoke in a hushed tone. “He has come here for as long as I can remember, visiting his wife—and the one that removed her from her position.”

  “Removed?” A’ridar said, followed by his wordless, angry cry.

  The cadet gulped in surprise.

  “She was murdered! Murdered by—by this animal. And we have statues to commemorate them!”

  The old man’s rants turned to sobs. He staggered across the walkway, then out of the park.

  Looking down the line of statues, Mencari noticed the farther down they were, the more weather-beaten they appeared. He ran his fingers along a deep crack in the side of the nearest statue.

  “If they’re celebrated, why do these look so damaged?” he asked.

  “In the ceremony, each sixth year, the new Champion’s statue replaces the old one, which replaces the old one before that. So, each statue is moved one farther pedestal down. It’s a great celebration all across Alo. If a statue cracks when moved, it’s a sign of unworthiness of that warrior—and believed to show a flaw in a formerly perfect Aloan.”

  “Or a sign of bad construction,” Mencari said lightly.

  “We believe their spirit is captured in the statue. It has nothing to do with construction.”

  A thought occurred to him. Even if there was a smaller population of those with combat training, they could be of great use against the Nukari.

  “Tell me more about your warriors,” he said.

  “Our most skilled are trained here—both for competition as well as for Defenders.”

  Mencari said, “Like those I ran into around your planet?”

  The cadet nodded. “Many champions started as Defenders. Being a Defender is the dream of every child….”

  Mencari looked on, curious. “Yours too?”

  “Me?” The cadet seemed taken back. “My dream is to be like everyone else. To be a warrior? Yeah, I guess that’s my dream.”

  “So there must be a lot of them.”

  “Not really. Even to enter the program you have to be specially chosen for your skills. And even then you have to get a sponsor to support your entrance.”

  “And you’re in the program?” he asked the cadet.

  “Yes. I’m very … lucky. D’abar, an old family friend—the councilmember who was warning about the shield before—sponsored my entrance. I’m only a sub-cadet really, but I have testing next week that should move me up … I hope. To get to a first-level cadet takes years. But D’abar says I can do it, so I’m trying.”

  “What are your abilities?” Mencari asked.

  The cadet blushed and looked down. “I … I don’t have any specific ability. Yet.”

  “But I thought you said—”

  “D’abar got me in.”

  “When do abilities usually develop?” Mencari said, thinking of when his own abilities emerged.

  The cadet grew more timid. “Usually at birth,” he said, sheepish. “I’m … I’m the oldest Aloan to not manifest an ability. But it still might happen. D’abar says I shouldn’t give up hope—and I won’t! I’m going to be a Defender someday, that’s why I’m in the program. It’s better than the alternative….”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Those who aren’t Defenders or warriors end up going to evocation school. Children train all day at manifesting their core ability. Training programs are tailored to their skills, leading to the job they do perform … for the rest of their lives.”

  “The same thing?”

  “For a lifetime.” The cadet shook his head. “I can’t imagine just doing one thing all the time. I … I’m not even sure what would happen to me, not having any abilities….”

  His voice trailed off as he watched some birds fly overhead.

  “Besides, that’s not what I want. People from all over escape their jobs to come here and see the best warriors compete. They’re well respected, just like Defenders. That’s what I want—”

  A boom echoed from the coliseum.

  “That reminds me,” the cadet looked toward the direction of the blast. “I should show you the coliseum.”

  * * * * *

  A guard waved them through a set of enormous doors decorated with a symbol that looked like a sun folding in upon itself. While the coliseum looked big on the outside, it somehow appeared bigger inside. The corridors looked wide enough for forty people to stand shoulder-to-shoulder. Each level had stories-tall, arched ceilings, with tiers of tables under expansive and ornate overhangs. The space reminded Mencari of a particularly fancy Coalition-styled sports arena.

  As they snaked through the various passages and ramps, explosions echoed.

  “They are still training!” the cadet said, excited. “Let’s hurry! This way!”

  He led Mencari to a rooftop deck that looked down into the battle zone below. A geyser of rock and debris plumed from an explosion. Two figures, blurs really, darted across the obstacles strewn across the battlefield, exchanging attacks.

  “They’re good … but there’s better!” the cadet chided, a grin spreading wide.

  To Mencari, it was hard to tell whether they were actually trying to hit one another or simply skirmishing. One fighter found refuge behind a rock. After a few blasts passed, he picked up the massive chunk and threw it at his pursuer. Easily able to dodge the slow attack, the other leaped stories into the air, following up with a flurry of fireballs.

  “They’re training for the one-on-one,” the cadet said.

  They watched as the sparing raged on.

  “There’s also a newer form-team competition. Two- to four-member teams play to take down the others.”

  “Same end rules?” Mencari asked hesitantly.

  “No. No … well, at least not yet. They …”

  After a moment, Mencari waved his hand before the cadet’s face. “You okay?”

  The cadet stood quietly looking into the distance. Even the jarring explosions below didn’t shake him from his trance.

  Suddenly he blinked and looked t
o Mencari. “D’abar has summoned us.”

  “How?”

  “Just now,” the cadet said flatly.

  “I thought you said you didn’t have any abilities?”

  “I don’t, it’s a one-way message from him to me. Anyone can receive one.” The cadet motioned.

  Again Mencari’s mind was drawn back to his Nukari beast ally, Katen. He had also heard D’abar’s voice during the battle inside High Dome. He wondered what it must be like to communicate directly with another’s mind.

  “We can use the skywalk to return to High Dome,” the cadet said. “We’re to meet him in the advisory rooms in the lower levels.”

  * * * * *

  Just beyond the guard post, a barrier of red energy extended across the hallway. Every so often a crackle of energy shot across it.

  “D’abar is expecting you. Please continue,” the guard said.

  The cadet bowed and the guard waved the field aside. As they continued through, the cadet looked over to Mencari. “I usually meet him at his personal quarters, deeper underground. But the area is highly guarded, for obvious reasons.”

  Domes of dim light embedded along the walls were barely enough to illuminate the corridors as they proceeded. In contrast, each door seemed to have its own colored spotlight, and was decorated with a unique symbol of wavy lines and circles. Many of the marks appeared to have some type of sun symbol integrated in the illustration.

  Nearly reaching the end of the corridor, the cadet stopped before a door illuminated with a blue light. He’d just begun to wave his hand before a glowing green circle when the door opened. The cadet jumped back in surprise as a sharp-eyed old man cackled.

  “You always do that!” the blushing cadet blurted, his tone playful.

  “You always say that,” the old one said, laughing. “Welcome young one, and outsider. There is much to discuss. Come in.”

  Mencari noted the banter between the two Aloans. There was a wonderful warmth present, far beyond the mentorship the cadet had explained before. They acted more like family than acting in official capacities.

  The old man escorted the group inside and directed them to sit. Mencari glanced around the dim room at the countless artifacts carefully placed along the walls and tables.

  “I must tell you,” the old man started. The former cheeriness had gone from D’abar’s voice. “The conversations among the councilmembers have not been encouraging. We are in a break, for now, but we will reconvene soon.”

  “What’s not going well?” Mencari asked with growing concern.

  D’abar shook his head. “Understand this: for eons Alo has been controlled—and protected—by keeping ourselves separate from the universe outside. Even acknowledging your existence threatens our way of life.”

  Discomfort reflected in the cadet’s eyes. D’abar was being overly candid with council information. It appeared D’abar’s revelation was the first time the cadet had heard something like this—outside of Mencari’s own tale of a universe filled with worlds. Clearly, some link of trust existed between the pair that allowed such open discussions. “Couldn’t they just keep this quiet?” Mencari said.

  “Someone, somewhere, will find out. It’s not something even we could hide forever.”

  “People already know about you,” the cadet said. “I even know about you.”

  “Yes, well, we’ll talk about that later,” the old man said. “Changing attitudes—even if it’s inevitable somewhere down the road—is difficult. I need to find something to move them to action now.”

  D’abar returned to pacing, a habit that reminded Mencari of his alien mentor Osuto.

  “Tell me,” the old man said. “What was this hole like that you came through?”

  “Big enough for a small ship to slide through—if the power didn’t get drained first. I flew easily through it myself.”

  “And how long was this tunnel there?”

  “It looked stable,” Mencari said. “I was sleeping when my ship first came upon it. I’m not sure how long we were trapped by it before I awoke. It seemed like minutes after I passed through it that it closed so suddenly.”

  D’abar sighed. “I’ve tracked other rifts before. But they were open for mere minutes. It appears the phenomenon is getting far worse.”

  He paced again, saying, “I’ve warned them for some time now. We’ve debated at length about our overreliance on the barrier. If what you’re telling me is true, our time of relying on it has ended.”

  “Wait … if he can get in,” the cadet said, “could one of our own people get trapped outside if they flew though?”

  D’abar’s body stiffened at the thought.

  “Can’t you fix it?” Mencari asked.

  “I’ve been working on that. The system has been largely automatic for centuries. But I found some ancient archives.” The old man shook his head. “I’m afraid the presentation of the information is a bit beyond me. Until now, I wasn’t prepared to expose what I found to others. The person who controls the shield will have significant power and influence.”

  D’abar paused, thinking, then said, “But there’s another battle to be won first. D’gorra, that pestering naysayer, is swaying others to his more xenophobic views. First, we must establish our common heritage to the ancient D’mar, and show our direct duty to protect one of our own, even if from beyond our world. Yes, which will work nicely with you helping to regain control of the shield—you helping us. Yes.”

  The old man paced more, muttering.

  “Help with the shield?” Mencari said, guarded.

  “Nothing—nothing for you to worry about.”

  As though he’d made a decision, from his pocket D’abar withdrew a flat crystal disc. A faint green light emanated from deep inside. After handing it to the cadet he said sternly, “Take him to the museum. In the back you’ll find a hallway that takes you into the service tunnels.”

  “I know where that is,” the cadet said with confidence.

  “A short way inside, you’ll find the D’mar crest on the right-side wall. Place this crystal in the slot you’ll find there, and a new passage will open to you.”

  The cadet nodded obediently.

  “Follow that passage, and you’ll find an ancient ruin I’ve been exploring. It holds many treasures, far more than I’ve had time to properly uncover and document. But for now, look for a set of orange and yellow crystals, they’ll be on a long counter. There’s two sets….” The old man’s brow furrowed in frustration. “The one I need projects images of D’mar and Nukari emblems. Use the device next to them to retrieve the correct set. But, do not disturb anything else. Return to me directly when you have them.”

  CHAPTER 2:

  The Museum

  “This is a museum?” Mencari said as they approached a striking building whose thick crystal spires jutted from the sides of the volcanic crater. In some ways, what he saw held an organic yet sophisticated elegance that reminded him of Lady Weun’s crystal store back on Aeun. That too was made of crystal, with spires that appeared extruded directly from the ground.

  “You mentioned how people have specific roles,” Mencari said to the cadet. “People created this building using their abilities?”

  “Entire guilds work together to create structures,” the cadet explained.

  “Hey!” a friendly voice called out. Atop crystal steps leading up to the museum stood a young woman. She bounded down the steps toward them. Her long, light-brown locks were streaked with splashes of blue, making her eyes of the same color stand out. Compared to what the guards and councilmembers wore, her outfit appeared dramatically casual, an ivory-colored, off-the-shoulder dress that accentuated her athletic body, with narrow pleats that ended just below the thigh. Strands of crystal threads ran down from her ponytail, a similar material to her shimmering, intricately woven necklace.

  “I was just leaving,” the woman said cheerfully. “Have to get ready for the games!”

  “Hey, Jeyla,” the cadet said, slightly
embarrassed. “Would you mind if we went into the museum? I’m on an official escorting assignment.”

  “Oh?” Jeyla said in a teasing tone. She looked Mencari over, then smiled and bobbed her head in approval. “Oh, I suppose. I couldn’t refuse a representative of the council, now could I? Besides, no one else is inside. Now’s a great time to be able to see what you want. No crowds. I know how they get with you. Here, take this.” She handed him a long crystal rod.

  “Er … thanks, I appreciate that.”

  “Say Siana, Raitr, and I are meeting up for the games later. You should join us! Bring your assignment,” she said playfully.

  “I don’t think I can. I’m on official business.”

  “Aren’t you always?” she said with a wink.

  He blushed. She giggled, then waved as her body washed with a golden aura. With a playful leap she took to the air. Mencari watched, amazed by this seemingly everyday spectacle.

  “Ready?” the cadet asked. They climbed the steps. The cadet waved the rod device before a glowing green disc. The museum’s wide doors rumbled open.

  * * * * *

  “They look important.” Mencari looked across six massive, marbled statues in the great room’s center. Each figure looked more outlandish than the others, as if each was from a different time period. Standing in the middle, a seventh, more scholarly figure, towered over the others. He noted the construction appeared similar to the statues in the Warrior’s Garden. “Are there people in those?”

  “No,” the cadet said, amused.

  “And who’s the big guy?” Mencari asked, studying the detail of the colossus.

  “Creval Obenar. He’s the father of everything you’ve seen here.”

  A fist-sized glowing sphere attracted Mencari’s attention to the pedestal under the massive statue. “What’s this?” he asked, pointing.

  “That? A story crystal. It contains information about our history. Each display has one.”

  “I’ve used similar technologies. We call them Tertrn crystals. Is there a reader device? Or another way to activate it?”