D'mok Revival: The Nukari Invasion Anthology

by Michael Zummo

  “Was this something the creature witnessed?” Fia’ra said. “What are these beasts?”

  “Memories are never what they seem. The mind remembers what it wants and how it wants, it never records the literal truth. The very fact of a memory can also change over time, changing how one recalls things,” Katen lectured. “What are these beasts? No telling, at least not yet.”

  As the tussle escalated, the ground began to shake. In moments it grew violent, knocking Katen off his feet. He watched as the scene before them abruptly reset, and began to play again. The exact same people, fighting in identical movements. Then it looped again.

  Now, each time the scene repeated, the number of participants doubled, followed by an even stronger tremor. Fia’ra reached out and helped Katen to his feet, then pointed ahead of them. “The ground!”

  The strange violet spots were growing more numerous and increasing rapidly in size, spanning across the stony floor. His minions were correct; the beast’s mind was tortured and was ripping itself apart. The torrents below were dissolving away the very floor beneath them. The thinning ground contorted and flexed, becoming transparent over the violet patches. Deep fissures became visible before their eyes.

  “It’s rupturing!” Fia’ra cried.

  With a mighty blast, followed by the sound of a raging rapids, multiple areas ripped open. A spectrum of blinding light blasted from each widening gash. As the geysers struck the cavernous ceiling it shattered away, revealing a darkened and starless sky. The creatures caught in the blast instantly dissolved. Even those next to the streams appeared to be sucked in, suffering the same fate.

  The thin membrane of the walls also ruptured. A flurry of tentacles flapped through oozing holes. With a suspicious eye, Katen watched something pop through, flop along the ground, then skitter away into the darkness.

  “It’s on the verge of a mental collapse,” Fia’ra said, panicked.

  “Its mind is lost,” Fio’tro said.

  A wailing began to rise above the clamor of the geysers. Katen looked about, curious.

  “No! Look,” he snarled.

  A radiant outline appeared in the sky above. Katen recognized it as their host beast. The wailing turned to a pained shriek as a gravelly voice cried out, “No more! Noooooooo moreeee!”

  A twinkling, almost a haloing around the outlined form exploded downward, coating the geysers with a gentle sea-green illumination. The light congealed, forming a new membrane that encapsulated the breaches. In moments, the violent shaking reverted to rhythmic throbs, before stopping altogether.

  The beastly outline in the sky phased into the darkness, and the pieces of the shattered ceiling reappeared and fused above them. The fissures closed, and the angry light radiating from beneath the stony floor faded away. The very ground reforged beneath their feet.

  Whatever the traumatic memory was, it was gone now. Fio’tro gently touched one of the former geysers next to him and marveled. “How many times has this happened?”

  Katen looked back the way they came. It changed. That path wound in a different direction from whence they came. Did this whole area reconfigure with each breach?

  Fia’ra said, “That voice before must have been …”

  “The creature’s,” Fio’tro said.

  “It’s more tortured than I thought,” she said sadly.

  Katen grinned roguishly. “Then it will be easier to manipulate.”

  “No, my sweet. Quite the opposite. Its fragility will be an obstacle. We must tread carefully. Gently.”

  He scoffed at the word.

  “It’s battling its own mind. If anything, we will need to help it to get what we want,” Fio’tro said.

  Katen felt the burn of angst in his chest. Help it? He had one intention, and it had nothing to do with helping the beast.

  * * * * *

  “Which way?” Fia’ra said, looking at the split of two paths before them. Katen snarled in frustration.

  Down the left path, a hazy sphere of light hovered, slowly pacing back and forth. To the right, a darker path echoed with commotion. Only a faint glow from slow-moving spots within the translucent walls provided any light.

  Fio’tro pointed right and said, “I suggest we go this way. I don’t trust the floater. It could be a mental defense.”

  “For once we agree,” Katen said, moving with the others. As they started down the right path, the glowing spots grew rapidly in number, and began to change color. Some swirled about as if caught in a churning tide. Other spots seemed to phase in and out, or disappeared altogether. Ahead, the clamor in the darkness grew. A sense of dampness crept across Katen’s skin. He smiled. Finally he’d found a pattern. Just before encountering the first chaotic memory, he felt the same sensation.

  “Trauma,” he said, pleased.

  A dark-gray fog rolled through the corridor, hiding the way forward. He hesitated, wary of another potential mind defense. “You go first,” Katen said, grabbing Fio’tro’s arm and shoving him forward. His minion nodded and held out a hand, pushing into the fog. When Katen didn’t hear screams of agony, he followed.

  He passed through the fog and emerged at the bottom of a rocky gorge. Drilling machinery and piles of quarried stone lay scattered about. Scaly, fanged creatures pounced on a Nukari soldier, tearing his body apart. A humanoid shadow watched silently. The soldier’s cries subsided, only to have the scene replay again.

  “Those creatures—” Fio’tro said, moving toward them.

  “Are the same as the last memory,” Fia’ra said, completing the thought. Fio’tro nodded.

  The scene changed as it played through a third time. This time creatures stopped and looked back at the mindwalkers. Katen looked back, curious. Were these not memories? How, or rather why, did the creatures in a memory look at him? They licked their blood-covered mouths, and eyed up new prey. There was something adorable about their rabidness.

  “Look, they want to play,” he said, delighted. What threat could a memory pose? Nevertheless, caution was needed. Katen summoned his staff in flash of light. No sooner had he prepared, the nearest beast lunged at Katen. In a bloodlust, the other creatures joined, howling in manic pleasure.

  From the corner of his eye, he saw the shadowy figure turn toward them and observe the battle. Was the shadow part of the memory, or something more? With each hit of Katen’s staff, the rabid attacker imploded then disappeared in a shower of fuzzy light.

  As the last enemy fell, Katen watched the shadowy form glide to the fallen soldier, kneel down, and cradle the shredded man in shadowy arms. Its dark outline was clearer—their beast host. The prostrated shadow didn’t feel threatening, unlike the scaly, fanged creatures. With a flick of his wrist, he dismissed his staff.

  Katen pondered how mere memories could notice and attack them. Perhaps the Nukari had implanted more mental defenses within the beast? If other such memories were encountered, would they too be mere annoyances, or something more formidable?

  A distortion of images and symbols swirled around the beast’s shadowy head. Katen recognized the phenomenon as a storm of memories, just like he experienced when Fio’tro and Fia’ra appeared in the mindwalk. While it was common for mindwalkers to experience, how could a memory suffer it? Unless it wasn’t just a memory.

  The beast shadow spoke, its voice agonized. “I couldn’t help you. I should have done something. Because of me … you …”

  “There was nothing you could have done,” the fallen soldier said. He freed himself from the shadowy figure’s embrace, and stood. His mutilated form spoke with great care and urgency. “She did this to me….”

  As the mindwalkers watched, the soldier’s wounds grew and festered. Blood oozed from the tears across his ravaged form.

  “She orchestrated it, and you know why.”

  The soldier and beastly shadow faded to gray, then dissolved into the floor. The air around the three mindwalkers warmed. As the quarry around them disappeared, they found themselves back in the corridor, fa
cing a dead end. The fog they’d passed through had vanished, and the colored spots of light trapped within the walls dissolved away before their eyes. In its place a gentle illumination spread across the walls, lighting the way back. They’d turned to retrace their steps when a voice called to them.

  “Who are you?”

  A shadowy creature stood directly behind them. Katen and Fio’tro held their ground, while Fia’ra sprang back in surprise. Color oozed from the shadowy form, revealing the beast Katen saw in the cell prior to the mindwalk. A combination of desperation and sadness mixed in its deep, almost Human-looking eyes.

  This was no defense, and more than a simple memory. Katen felt the sentience before him. They had made contact with their host, an unprecedented event in any mindwalk. The mindwalkers exchanged glances. Though violating his very nature, Katen knew he needed to reassure the beast.

  “We are brethren, like yourself.”

  “We’re here to help,” Fia’ra added.

  “Help me?”

  “You are burdened,” Fia’ra said.

  The ground rumbled slightly beneath their feet.

  “We can heal your pain,” Fio’tro implored.

  The creature looked away, forlorn. He nodded as his body turned to gray and again dissolved into the ground. Katen motioned back the way they came. As they returned to the original fork in the path, the blurry, floating sphere of energy still paced back and forth. However, something about its movements seemed lighter, happier.

  “Could it be an aberrant engram? A memory fragment lost here?” Fio’tro said.

  Katen started toward it. With each step, it appeared to move an equal distance farther away.

  “Strange,” Fio’tro said.

  They continued down around a bend. Fia’ra pointed to the images appearing again within the walls. A prickling dampness chilled the air. More fun. Katen grimaced in anticipation.

  “We must be close to something,” Fio’tro said.

  “Yesss.” Katen’s expression rang like the trill of an excited snake.

  Fragments of a conversation drifted to them. Their host’s voice was distinct among the phrases.

  The blurry sphere stopped just beyond the left branch of yet another fork in the path. As they reached the intersection, Katen noticed a small cave down the left branch. He peered in and saw a manifestation of their host beast talking to a Nukari soldier clad in black armor.

  “Did they make it back safely?” the beast said.

  “Who?” the soldier said.

  “The soldiers on the ship I rescued.”

  The Nukari soldier laughed. “Oh, ya, they’re fine now.”

  “Good, I wanted to check on them, but they weren’t in the medical ward.”

  “Wait, you’re not kidding?” The soldier looked with disbelief at the creature.

  “No. Do you know where they are?”

  The soldier’s face grew cold.

  “They’re dead.”

  The beast recoiled. “What?”

  “They were traitors fleeing. We tried to stop them but only managed to damage their ship. But you, you stopped them cold.”

  The creature staggered, not knowing what to say.

  “They were executed this morning.”

  The creature’s face twisted, pained. “But Kajlit’ga told me those people needed me to save them.”

  “Then she lied. They’re dead. She ordered the execution.”

  The soldier’s phrase echoed in the corridor. “They’re dead.” Each repetition played louder and more distorted.

  Behind the soldier, shadowy images of the scientists appeared. They began to scream as their skin and uniforms were stripped off. Their skeletons shuddered before crumbling to dust. The color from those in the memory faded, with the exception of their host creature, who turned to address the mindwalkers.

  “Dead … she said … I had to rescue them … that they needed my help.”

  “She lied?” Fia’ra said, saddened.

  “It wasn’t the first time. She fooled me so many … before I understood. But that doesn’t change what I did.”

  “You didn’t know. You were trying to help,” Fia’ra said.

  The creature looked down. “All I wanted to do was help.”

  “Is that important to you?” Fio’tro asked.

  “That’s why I exist. That’s what he taught me….”

  He who? As before, the creature’s color bled away as it dissolved into the ground. Within the walls, the alien symbols melted to nothingness as the temperature became warmer. A gentle, cheerful tone attracted their attention back to the floating sphere of light in the corridor. It glowed brightly and spun as it grew larger. Katen eyed it with suspicion.

  It appeared to be leading them, but was it a defense to be defeated, or something benevolent? It certainly wasn’t the host creature. Slowly, the now larger sphere of light floated deeper into the cavernous maze. The three mindwalkers followed. The sphere led them through numerous corridors and turns. All the while, the path behind them rapidly reshaped, their way back replaced with tunnels leading in different directions, or sealing off altogether. There was always a way out of a mind, even if it caused irreparable damage to the host. Katen hoped to accomplish his assigned duty of torment and interrogation before having to leave.

  Quivering alien symbols filled the space inside the translucent cavern walls. A few pressed against the edges, threatening to break through. A familiar coldness crept across Katen’s skin as the symbols shuddered chaotically, intermittently flashing with light.

  “What’s it doing?” Fio’tro said, pointing to the floating sphere of light, which now darted back and forth as if pacing and angry.

  The sound of laser fire echoed from ahead. Closing on the source, a man’s cry could be heard at the end of each volley. The sounds looped, growing louder as the mindwalkers approached. They now heard a hissing sound, and a gurgle added just after the man’s cry ended. In the junction of the corridors ahead, they witnessed an exchange of laser fire zinging back and forth. The beams of light appeared out of sync with the sound of the blasts. Drawing closer, Nukari soldiers clad in black uniforms appeared to fire from the right, while the fanged creatures seen before held their ground on the left.

  “There he is,” Fia’ra said, pointing to their creature host who approached from behind the Nukari soldiers. Katen watched as the beast opened its mouth and unleashed a hellish energy blast toward the fanged creatures. Katen recognized it at once. It was the same attack used by the beast against Cogeni’s protective field before the mindwalk.

  With lightning reflexes, one of the beasts grabbed a Nukari soldier and used him as a living shield. The host’s face contorted in horror as its own beam struck his comrade in the chest.

  The soldier cried out, quickly stifled by a hiss, then a gurgle. Only a small spatter of blood escaped as the wound cauterized from the heat. The sound echoed in a loop as the soldier fell, his eyes glaring accusingly at his murderer.

  Everything but the stricken soldier and their beast host appeared to freeze. The crumpled body smacked the ground hard, and bounced before stopping. The beast began to tremble, unable to speak or go to the soldier. The ground rumbled, and they heard the voice of their host.

  “Noooooooo!”

  The beast fell to his knees, his hands shaking. His voice quivered. “I had never killed my own kind before. She said it didn’t matter. But it did. He did. He was special. He was my friend.”

  The beast’s eyes looked to the mindwalkers, then locked on the slain soldier. The beast was directly opening up to them now. Katen smiled at the trust they so easily engendered. Still, keeping the beast unstable would still play to Katen’s agenda.

  “You can’t change what happened,” Fia’ra said to the beast.

  “How could I have done this?”

  “You were careless,” Katen said unforgivingly.

  “He means … you can be more careful in the future,” Fio’tro said quickly.

  T
he creature looked at them. “What do you mean?”

  Fio’tro hesitated, trying to recall the scene. “Your friend was too close to those you were fighting…. You should have called an ally back before attacking, or made sure they had good distance from the enemy.”

  The creature looked back at his friend. His hands grew steadier. “I understand. But it doesn’t change anything.”

  “You can make sure it never happens again,” Fia’ra said.

  As the creature nodded, it and the soldier grayed, then dissolved into the floor. A familiar ringing drew the mindwalkers’ attention back to the floating sphere of light. The three watched it grow larger still, and sprout leg and arm buds.

  “Curious thing,” Fio’tro said.

  “The creature’s psyche? Healing as we resolve these engrams?” Fia’ra wondered.

  “It doesn’t look like the creature.”

  “Be wary of it, it’s not the beast,” Katen said.

  The floating object began to move farther down the corridor. Katen felt his teeth gnash. This was taking too long. Where was the way to the mindscape? Did this Nukari beast even have one? Perhaps it was twisted into this maze of agony.

  They wound through more tunnels, then scaled a nearly vertical ridge before hearing an angry mob at the top. At the peak, Katen discovered another memory, showing their beast host fighting endless waves of the fanged, scaly creatures.

  “Get off of me!” the beast yelled as it tossed the scaly creatures like rag dolls. The beast disappeared under a swarm of the things. An enraged shriek was followed by a fiery explosion that turned the creatures into a red rain and meaty hail. Radiating a muddy-blue aura, the Nukari beast triumphantly returned to his feet, eyes bloodshot with rage. Despite the show of power, more of the scaly, fanged creatures appeared and attacked.

  Next to Katen, a woman appeared. Her blood-orange locks were short, and jagged in style. Small, woven chains of silver ran from ornate earrings to rings through her lips. A large blaster in her hands radiated an angry white light before firing a pulse into the attacking creatures. When struck, the scaly creatures fell convulsing on the ground. Regardless, more beasts attempted to climb over the fallen, which she also rendered twitching and useless. A wall of writhing bodies had built around the Nukari beast. She jumped onto the pile, and scaled it with a cocky arrogance. She looked down at the beast and shook her head, disapproving. “Trouble with the humblings?” she said, disgusted.