D'mok Revival: The Nukari Invasion Anthology
Page 102
“But it wasn’t Seriah developing this new ability, the source appeared to be her baby.…”
She listened dumfounded.
“When Speru was born, he was indeed the gift suspected. I was told by the council to use my abilities to either seal the child’s abilities or murder him.”
“Murder? They can’t order that!”
“They did, and I did as instructed. I made him the Freak of Alo.”
What? No.
She slumped, stunned. Speru had abilities the whole time? They were just sealed away? All his life he endured endless ridicule, not to mention the torture of trying to be a Defender despite not having any way to defend his people. It was all a lie, a cruel lie.
“D’gorra made a point of Speru becoming my lifetime commission. Since I didn’t kill him, I was to make sure my seal held. If there was ever a risk it wouldn’t, I was to enlist the High Dome guards and have him killed.”
This can’t be.
“I also kept researchers who wanted to understand his lack of abilities at bay. I’d known for some time my seal was weakening. His natural power was growing stronger each year. I knew it was a matter of time before the seal broke. D’gorra somehow discovered what was happening despite my best efforts. Speru’s life was in danger.”
Siana saw the paper in his hands flood with color. A clear cartoon figure took shape. She recognized the alien drawn there.
“And then Rhysus Mencari appeared,” D’abar said.
“Who is he?”
“Brethren like us, but not of our world.”
“I don’t understand either part of that. There are no other worlds to be a part of beyond our own.”
He smiled, amused, and shook his head. “Another belief we wish those to have. But, alas, we are our own universe by choice, not by fact.”
“What do you mean?”
“There’s a protective field around our world, sealing us inside our own void in space. There’s a universe filled with an infinite number of worlds and peoples. Our own ancestors came from that great beyond. Rhysus shares our ancestry.”
Siana recalled the image of the comet of light, and the strange distortion it had been flying into.
“Rhysus is from outside this field?”
“He is.”
“And that’s where he took Speru?”
“Yes, but not before I unlocked Speru’s abilities.”
She recalled more of Raitr’s images, especially Speru, D’abar, and Rhysus’ approach of the moon, followed by another image of blazing light radiating from the moon’s surface.
“The flood of power over the moon—Speru did that!” she said.
“Done the instant I unleashed his power.”
No one is going to believe this. Maybe if they could witness Speru’s power firsthand? “When is Speru coming back?”
“He can’t. D’gorra controls the shield from the Council Chambers inside High Dome. I can’t get near it now. Besides, if Speru ever returned, he wouldn’t be safe.”
“People just need to know the truth, and he’d be fine.”
“Do not underestimate D’gorra as I did. He and his lackeys would kill Speru the moment he came back through the shield. D’gorra has cultivated the perfect storm of fear and mistrust.”
“How do you know he’s any safer with Rhysus Mencari?”
“In the time we were together I grew to know him.”
“Based on what?”
“Our ancestors were called the D’mar, a fact I had difficulty proving to the council. Rhysus found proof, in an ancient section of the museum off the maintenance tunnels—and much more. He even found the way to repair the weakening shield around our world. He was a kind man, someone who’s going to take care of Speru.”
“Why did he come to Alo?”
“He didn’t intend to come. But once here, he found kinsmen to aid him in war.”
“What war?”
“The very enemy our ancestors erected the great shield to protect us from had returned, and was wreaking havoc. Speru’s abilities would help them greatly. He can be the Defender he always wanted to be. Not even D’gorra can stop him now.”
So it wasn’t D’abar who killed Speru, but rather D’gorra who wanted Speru dead. The reason why they couldn’t find Speru was because he was off-world, beyond some field that sealed them in. It seemed far-fetched, but at least things were making sense now. She had to get back and tell the others.
* * * * * *
Jeyla soaked in the sight of Raitr’s face contorting while Siana finished sharing the mindwalk.
“I don’t believe it—any of it,” Raitr snarled.
“You can’t lie in a mindwalk,” Siana said.
“My dad isn’t going to try and kill my best friend—or scheme to put D’abar in a cell. He must be lying.”
“You sure you’re not a politician?” Jeyla said flippantly. “You’re either blind, or deliberately ignorant. Stop protecting him.”
“He wouldn’t do those things,” Raitr said, undeterred.
“If you’re so good at discovering the truth, dig around what she’s found.” Jeyla enjoyed slinging that phrase back at him. “Find those controls too. She and I are going to the museum, to find what D’abar talked about there. It’s getting late, so there shouldn’t be as many people around either.”
“Fine.” Raitr pounded his fist against the wall. “Then you’ll see who’s the liar.”
She stifled a triumphant sneer as he stormed out of the room. “See, indeed,” she muttered under her breath.
When he slammed the front door, Jeyla caught Siana’s disapproving glance. “That really wasn’t very nice.”
“He’ll live,” Jeyla said with a sneer.
“He’s not the bad guy here, and he cares about Speru too. This is just as hard for him.”
Siana said something more, but Jeyla was dwelling on what D’abar said concerning the museum. She mentally walked the corridors. There wasn’t an inch of that place she didn’t know, at least she believed so. Wait!
“Maintenance tunnels … I think I know what he was talking about. Come on!”
* * * * * *
“Back here! Come on,” Jeyla called. She felt the cool crystal control rod growing slick with sweat as she ran. The control rod was the key that opened everything in the museum. Her heart pounded with equal parts anticipation and fear.
A rabid curiosity grew while she darted around the exhibits commemorating Creval Obenar and his Pillars of Creation. All her life she lived and breathed the history of her people. The great museum provided everything an Aloan needed to know about their ancient culture: the six pillars that represented the range of Aloan abilities, the bloody civil war leading to the formation of the council and High Dome, the creation of the Aloan Defenders for peace, and even the great powerless anomaly known as the Freak of Alo. She thought she knew everything there was within those hallowed walls.
But now, something far more ancient than their own culture could be hidden away. It seemed too incredible to believe. If such a thing existed, there was only one area that could conceal something more expansive.
“Through there! The maintenance tunnels—built right into the volcano walls.” She waved the rod; the door opened revealing a dark passage. She stepped forward and a row of warm lights flickered
“We have detailed maps of the museum. We know what’s in every square inch, except back here. I never asked why. I didn’t think to care.” A small bulge that protruded waist-high from the wall caught her attention.
“What’s that symbol?” Siana said, examining the etched markings on it. Resembling a letter “D” with a broken “t” in the middle, and small planet-like circles around it, the marking didn’t match anything in her mental archives. A gem of sorts was pushed in the top of the markings.
Jeyla reached forward, apprehensive. The symbol illuminated, and a section of wall dissolved away as a wall of sugar does when doused by a stream of water. A dark corridor waited ahead. A blue
glow cast along its walls.
“I’m not going in there either without some light,” Siana said with a grin.
“I know, I was just thinking … hey!”
Jeyla looked at Siana and recalled the exchange with the guard by D’abar. He called her out saying she was supposed to ask permission to read his mind. Maybe Siana was doing that more often then she let on. It’s not like she personally had anything to hide, it was more a matter of principle.
Siana returned a confused glance. “What?”
“Did you read my mind?”
“Um, no. It’s dark, I just figured—”
Of course that’s what she’d say. Which, of course means she can hear this thought too.
“Oh, never mind. Let’s go.” Jeyla whisked aside the thin cobwebs with her hand, and noticed the thicker ones covering the walls. “Someone was recently through here.” Throwing her hand out, she stopped Siana behind her. The body of a large spider lay motionless to the side. Her body shuddered. Spiders were gross. Something about their long, creepy legs and fangs made her skin crawl, and that was the small ones. Even dead, this one was going to give her nightmares. Giving the widest berth possible, she moved cautiously around the beast.
They continued until the corridor opened up before them into a chamber. Inside were mannequins adorned with ancient robes. Across the floor was the same “D” design as in the maintenance corridor. Across the room, illumination flickered from a doorway.
Investigating, she found panels scattered across the walls of an even larger room. Life-like scenes faded in and out within each panel. The nearest showed an expansive horizon filled with crystal spires that jutted from a massive central structure. Another showed a young man overlooking a forest from atop a bluff.
“This counts for something ancient, just like I was told,” Siana said, still taking it all in.
Jeyla reviewed the tomes within her memory. Nothing in the room could be found documented. In fact, this area didn’t even appear in the records. “According to public record, none of this should exist,” she said.
Siana said, eyes filled with angst, “Jeyla, if this part was true …”
“Then Raitr is in danger,” Jeyla said, shutting her eyes. Her mind attempted to reach out and connect to Raitr. Nothing. The telepathic connections were completely blocked. “I can’t reach him.”
“I can’t either. Could it be this place?” Siana said.
“We need to find him—now!” Jeyla said, already dashing back the way they came.
* * * * * *
“You’re here pretty late,” the High Dome guard said with a smile. “Looking for your dad?”
“No,” Raitr said, ready to deliver his cover story. “Actually, he asked me to get something he left in the council chambers.”
“Too busy to come get it himself, hmm?”
“You know Dad.”
“Go ahead,” the guard said with a motion of his head.
Raitr jogged down the hall to the main council chambers. No one would be in there this time of night, so he should have a little time at least. No guards standing watch. Good, that meant it was empty. He activated the mighty doors and entered the blackness before him. A gentle aura pulsed from above, showering the room in a soft moonglow. There was a majesty about the council chambers that always left him in awe. But for now, he had a mission.
Speru always kept a sketch pad at his station. He’d grab that and make a good showing to the guard on the way out. An empty feeling filled him as he approached the station.
Speru …
As a trainer, Raitr had an innate connection to anyone he encountered. He could feel their essence, know exactly what their skills were and how to develop them. After the first encounter with someone new, he’d feel a type of spiritual tether to them. He could tell if they were taxed, or if new abilities were emerging. Regardless, he could sense their presence.
The most he’d ever gotten from Speru was just a sense of existing, without the elaborated detail he’d come to expect from the tether. But it was gone now. This gave him pause, made him question whether the stories could be right. Was Speru dead? Then again, he knew what death felt like—a passing of the energies along the tether, releasing back into the ether around them. And he didn’t recall ever feeling anything like that from Speru. The connection just seemed to sever.
Keep focused. Something told him Jeyla would chastise his wandering mind just that way.
He opened the small drawer at Speru’s station. Empty? Where’s his sketch pad? He always kept one here. Now he needed to find something else for the guard—or would he say he couldn’t find what his dad wanted? Maybe the guard would buy that story.
He needed to find the controls Siana mentioned. Where would they be? The gentle aura from above exploded into bright light, causing him to shield his eyes.
An accusing and crotchety old voice rang through the chamber. “How’s your search going?”
He stood frozen. If he had only checked one last time, made sure he knew where his father was before entering the chamber. He forced a smile as he turned to face D’gorra. With as much innocence as he could muster he said, “Hi, Dad.”
“The guard said you were getting something I left behind. And what would that be?” D’gorra said, walking toward him.
“I—just wanted to get Speru’s sketchbook. I … I thought it would give clues to what happened to him.”
“Bravo. Quite the investigator. You know, I can read you, son, and you’re not doing a good job of covering.” D’gorra casually put his arm around Raitr’s shoulders. “Frankly, I’m a little disappointed. I taught you better than this.”
D’gorra, like the others of the council, had strong telepathic abilities. While Raitr could assist in training someone with those abilities, blocking them from being used against him was entirely different. Ironically, his father had been working with him to learn how to block others from entering his mind. It was time to put that training into action.
“I know who you’ve been talking to—and who they’ve been talking to. I’m always watching,” D’gorra said, releasing his friendly embrace. He walked to the large podium in the center of the room, and banked himself against it. “I wouldn’t trust a thing he’s told them. He’s being heavily medicated.”
See, they were lies—aberrant thoughts while under the influence. But wait, that made a good cover story, didn’t it? His father was the king of plausible tales. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree; he too had the talent. Though spinning stories wouldn’t work with his father. No, the direct route was best.
“I can’t feel him anymore, Father.” He looked at his hands, gripped his fists and let them flood with power. “Tell me a name—anyone I’ve met—and I can tell things about them. Yet, I can’t feel Speru anymore.”
“Then why do you doubt what you’ve been told?” D’gorra said, casually. “D’abar killed him. I know it’s hard to accept, but trust your own abilities—and see D’abar for who he is.”
“Speru’s not dead. I never felt his passing. But that’s not all. I’ve seen the images, Father—the council guards chasing Speru, the wave of power from the moon, the comet of light ending in some sort of distortion.”
“What are you talking about? Who would have fabricated such images?”
Nothingness. Raitr filled his mind with a great void—one of the tricks his father taught him. He wasn’t about to reveal who had helped him. Cheap ploy, Dad. His own father warned him people would say things to trick another’s mind to conjure the desired information. Telepaths would just skim the mind and take what they wanted. He had to stay focused. “Speru did that to our moon, didn’t he?”
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
Raitr shook his head.
“My own son is a security risk,” D’gorra said, disappointed.
He does know something. His blood tingled with adrenaline as he waited to hear the truth.
“You don’t know what you’re gettin
g into, I must insist you stop.”
“He’s my friend, Father—my best friend.”
A deep-seated anger began to boil within him.
“Nothing is what you think, son. You don’t understand, he was a very dangerous boy.”
The phrase shot right through him. It lined up with what D’abar told Siana. The council did fear Speru. If that part was true, then the rest must be. But wait—he was dangerous?
“D’abar killed him,” D’gorra said
No. Something didn’t feel right. His father’s very aura seemed discolored. He was lying.
“You’ve taught me too well, Dad. I can even tell you’re lying. Speru is with Rhysus Mencari, beyond that field that protects our world.”
His father’s eyes grew wide, then flooded with anger. “I should have ordered an empathic block for that meddler!”
Pay dirt! He grew ill with a new realization. “Wait, you want Speru—my best friend—dead! How could you?”
“To secure our world’s future!”
It was true, all of it. It seemed impossible. There was a whole realm of deception that he never had perceived. Who was the man standing before him? A cascade of doubt crashed on him.
What else in his life was a charade? What other heinous deeds had his father ordered? Could he trust anything he was told—or anything his father might say from here on?
D’gorra’s angry gaze penetrated him. Who was the man before him that ordered a council guard killed, and then incarcerated a fellow councilmember unjustly? How far did this conspiracy go? What would his father order next? What would his father do with him?
Suddenly, nothing felt safe anymore.
He’d never thought this far ahead, or anticipated dealing with his father like this. Too late to worry about it now. What should I do? Run! He needed to run. He had to tell the girls. Would his father follow? Would he send others after them? The stinging pains of panic ran through his veins. They were all in danger now.
Think! What to do?