people as possible to be around for Pip and Tobi.
We wait at the hangar for Wade and his mechanics to give us the okay for take-off. I keep calm
by reciting the word peace in my head as I have learned to do when pressure gets to be
overwhelming. Leaving Tobi behind was not an easy decision to make. But in the end, it was the only
one that made sense. The time has come to fight for all the children that are left in the world.
Wade emerges from the cockpit of Terra 8 and gives a big thumbs up. We can start boarding the
ship. There is no turning back. We leave the waiting area and line up to enter Terra 8. I find myself
between Finn and Nya who’s humming a soothing tune.
There’s some commotion back in the waiting area. I turn my head slowly and see him there.
Damian. He’s exchanging heated words with Wade.
I take off my helmet and walk down to them.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“I’m going back with you,” Damian says.
“You haven’t been authorized,” Wade says. “You haven’t gone through preliminary testing and
you don’t have a suit.”
Damian looks at Wade with contempt. “You will not tell me what to do,” he says. “Not you and
not any of you cloud huggers.”
“Damian!” I scold him. “I will tell you what you are not going to do. You are not going to talk to
our friends and hosts like that. And I thought you weren’t interested in going back with us.”
“I changed my mind,” he says.
I try to protest but Finn cuts in. “Let him come,” he says.
“Are you sure?” I ask.
“Yes, I’m sure. We might need a guy like him,” Finn says and that puts an end to the argument.
The door is sealed behind us as we finally step onto Terra 8. Eyebrows raise as Damian walks
down the aisle without a suit on and takes a seat.
I sit as far from him as I can possibly sit. I look out my small window and see Joshua and Ella
waving from below wearing their suits. They’re wishing us well. They will fly separately in their
interplanetary space pod.
I stare at their perfect smiles. Their teeth are blinding white. I wonder what evils I have brought
down on these charmed people.
*
WILL IT EVER END? The question plagues my every action and thought. We arrived at the
underground Sliman base last night. This cat-and-mouse with the aliens will have to come to an end
one day. I never asked for the starring part in this cruel game.
I’ve been trying to make up my mind about whether or not I want to talk to Zolkon. The way he
used me and betrayed me, the way he used and betrayed Wudak who was supposed to be his friend
are things that still haunt me when I lay awake at night. When Gritu informed me that Zolkon wanted
to talk to me, that he had important information to give me, I just shrugged the notion off. But then
Zolkon sent Gritu back with a new message. According to him, he knew what I had to do to win in the
conflict with the aliens.
“Do you believe him?” I asked Gritu.
“No,” he said, but then he added, “And yes.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I mean that I don’t know if he’s telling the truth or not. But what does he have to gain by lying at
this point?”
“I wish I knew,” I said but now I know I can’t put it off forever. Pretty soon, I will have to make
my decision about how I am going to deal with the situation at hand.
Gritu and Malzod lead me to the cell where Zolkon has been held for over a year now. It’s a
small cave with bars on the outside. It looks like a cage more than anything else and I think it’s
excessively bleak even for Zolkon.
Zolkon sits on the floor crouched over. He seems smaller than what I remember and when he
raises his head to face me, I am shocked by how old and beaten down he looks.
Malzod opens the door to the cell and leads me in. Then, he grabs a chain that has one end stuck
to the wall and clicks the cuff on the other end around Zolkon’s ankle.
“We’ll be right around the corner,” Gritu says. “Call us if you need us.”
I nod and they go. Zolkon’s condition is of some concern to me because I realize he’d say
anything for a chance to go free.
“So, we meet again, girl with the magic hands,” Zolkon says with an old man’s voice. Whatever
it was that was keeping him strong and vital has evaporated now. I shudder at the thought that he might not be getting enough Omicron 5. Wudak didn’t even want to discuss such a possibility. His memories
of not getting the right dose on time were quite painful.
“What do you have to tell me?” I say to get things started as soon as possible. I don’t want to
stay in here a minute longer than necessary.
“Look at you, all grown-up and composed. Was I right? Are you a mother now?”
I still feel nervous around him but I can’t let him see that. I can’t let him know that I have
nightmares every now and then of needles being stuck in my arms and stomach; or nightmares of a
dark army coming after my blood.
“I will count to three,” I say. “If you don’t give me a good reason why I should stay by then, I’m
leaving.”
“Still tough to the bone.”
“One.”
“I’ll tell you, but you have to be a bit nice first.”
“Two.”
“What I will tell you, will change your world, little girl.”
“Three. Goodbye, Zolkon. May you rot slowly.”
“Do you remember the Dark Legion?” he says as I turn to go.
“What of them?”
“I know how you can turn them. How you can control them and make them follow you. There
will be no stopping you then.”
I turn back slowly. “That’s it?” I say.
Zolkon smiles revealing a set of gray teeth. “Ten thousand super warriors at your disposal. Ten
times stronger than ordinary Sliman. Five times faster. A hundred times smarter. Independent of
Omicron 5. Doesn’t it sound like a dream?”
“Sliman usually visit nightmares, not dreams,” I say. “Get to it. How do I make them follow
me?”
“First, little girl, you have to promise me something.”
“No, I don’t have to do anything since you’re the one in chains.”
“A simple little thing for an old friend who’s trying to help,” he says and he starts laughing. The
laughter soon leads to an uncontrollable cough.
“I’ve told you how I feel about your laughter,” I warn him.
“What would you do? Kill me? That’s exactly what I want, girl.”
I consider him from head-to-toe. I know how treacherous and self-serving he can be but no one
would be envious of his current situation.
“Listen, I’m tired. Cave dwelling is not exactly a dignified end. It’s so degrading, so unworthy
of what my life has been. You people have no idea what I have seen, how far I have traveled in the
stars, what remote, alien civilizations I’ve stumbled upon and survived.”
I don’t let him know it, but I’m suddenly captivated.
“I was a traveler in my youth,” he continues. “I accompanied my master in his search for a new
world. This cell,” he says and points at the cave around him, “this is no place for one who has seen
so much beauty and so much devastation in more star systems than can be remembered.”
He looks at me a long time. I can
see that he appreciates that I have decided to listen. “I’ve seen
enough, child. My regrets riddle my decrepit soul in this cold cave. I’ve talked enough, heard enough.
I will tell you everything, but then you will have to kill me in return. You can call it payment. I would consider it a kindness. Quick and painless would be preferred, but any death would be welcome. I’m
sure you can handle that. I’m nowhere near as daunting a foe as Plantation-15 must have been.”
His coughing returns stronger than before. It makes him shudder and tremble and his eyes get
watery. I can’t feel truly sorry for his condition but I can’t enjoy it either. I spot a carafe on a small table and get him a glass of water. That table and a bed are all the furniture available to him.
“I never understood the human capacity to forgive,” he says sincerely. “I considered it a
weakness, but I can see now that there is a strength to your kind. I knew something like love once,
long ago.” These words take him back and silence him as he travels over sad memories.
“Tell me what you know,” I say, “and I will make your life here more comfortable. I’ll get you
books, pens and paper, a decent armchair. I’ll make sure you have enough Omicron 5 and plenty of
good food.”
I’m dangerously close to him. I only realize it when he grabs my left wrist. He doesn’t present a
danger to me and we both know it but just to feel his touch on my arm turns my stomach into knots.
“No,” he says, “you will have to kill me. I won’t negotiate on that.”
I stay quiet and don’t even attempt to pull my arm away. I look into his tired eyes and I see truth
for the first time. He wants out of this world, he doesn’t belong in it anymore. He could be a hundred years old for all I know.
“Okay, I say. We’ll do it your way. If your information is good and I win this battle, then I will
grant your wish.”
He lets go of my wrist and settles down on the floor with his back against the wall. I crouch
down opposite him.
“The Dark Legion,” he starts, “was designed to be the ultimate army in the empire.”
“The Shadow Empire,” I say.
“Yes. Where did you hear this?”
“You’d be surprised,” I say with a smile.
He understands I’m not willing to answer his question but doesn’t seem to really care. “They are
machines. Fighting, killing machines with high intelligence. They don’t need Omicron 5 to survive
although, unless something has changed, they don’t know it yet. There are many different classes of
Sliman and to just put us all together under one name is plain stupid. But the aliens have no social
sensibilities. It’s no use trying to explain such subtleties to them. They are only interested in the big, fat picture as you would say.”
“Arrive at a point. What about the Dark Legion? Why would they fight for me? Will they bend to
my will if I touch them?”
He shakes his head. “I told you, these are no ordinary Sliman. Your touch would not affect them,
just like it doesn’t affect me.”
“How then?” I’m getting impatient and doubts start to dominate my mind about whether he has
anything of value to offer.
“There’s a secret,” he says. “Something that the aliens don’t know. When the Dark Legion was
designed, Wudak, Elgon and me, the three leaders of the Sliman insurgence, we decided we’d stir
things up a bit just in case we needed the Dark Legion on our side. Wudak had already spotted you
and your friends and Elgon was working on the Dark Legion project and had access to the
laboratories and testing chambers. You see, the aliens took regular Sliman and operated on them
switching genes on and off until they got the desired result. Elgon who had received some training in
molecular science was allowed to be present at several such experiments. At the main lab, he risked
his life by doing what he did, but he managed to alter one of the genes that was to go into the
bloodstream of the Dark Legion. That gene can be programmed from afar with a simple code. All one
would have to do would be to read out the code to them and they will instantly have their loyalty for
the alien bride reconfigured in them. Do you follow so far?”
“How do I know this is not a trap?” I say.
“Damn it, girl, are you listening or not? We made sure the Dark Legion would be yours. And in
time ours through you. They can all be controlled by you if they are read out the code. But not by you.
Their leader has to initiate it.”
“There is a leader?” I say sheepishly.
“Yes. His name is Kroll and he’s the only one that has his gene for the alien bride turned on
from the start. The aliens wanted to be able to use him as protection for you in case something went
wrong and the Dark Legion attempted to harm you. He’d be the only shield between you and them. Get
to him, bond with him and he will turn the entire army over to you. And don’t be alarmed by his
menacing presence. He is yours for the taking. He will slit his own throat if you ask nicely. He is
programmed to be your slave.”
Zolkon looks up at me exhausted and out of breath. I’m surprised that this once robust and
muscular Sliman leader has been reduced to a sickly, depressed creature with no desire other than to
die.
“You are more human than you think,” I say.
“Am I?” he says. For the first time I see curiosity in his eyes. “How so?”
“All you really need is something to call your own. You may have gone about it the wrong way,
but I’m in no position to judge. If what you have just told me is true, I will honor our agreement if it’s still what you want. Now, give me the code,” I say. “For the Dark Legion.”
“Hand me your touchpad.”
I do so and he punches in a series of twenty-seven numbers and letters. I get up to go.
“It’s a nice place, Planet Sliman,” he says. “It was, anyway. Similar to Earth although colder
and greener. I was born there eighty-nine years ago. I had a normal childhood with a mother and a
father. They didn’t call themselves or the planet Sliman, mind you. They knew the aliens would come
for me but they pretended for my sake it would all be fine. I was seven when I was taken away. Does
it sound familiar?”
I turn slowly to look down at him. “It makes no difference if we have similar experiences,” I say
in a low voice. “I have my own war to fight.”
“Yes, of course you do. Most Sliman are now brought to Earth as babies. They never know their
parents. They are raised by humans. Did you know there are breeding villages for Sliman on Earth?
Planet Sliman makes the aliens weak faster than Earth does. So all mutations happen here. Most
Sliman think they were born on Earth. But not I. I know the truth. I remember.”
“When I free Earth, I will give all Sliman the option to stay or go back to their planet,” I say.
“When you free Earth, you will be an old woman. It might not even happen in your lifetime,” he
says.
“Regardless, I have to try.”
Zolkon’s eyes look beyond me. I turn and see Damian.
“So, you got your Sliman back,” Zolkon says. “The guards told the story of his rescue like an
ancient tale of mythic glory.”
Damian stares at Zolkon with an intensity I don’t like.
“We’re leaving,” I say and push Damian out of the cell.
Gritu and Malzod appear to secure the cel
l.
“What did he say to you?” Damian asks as we walk away.
“Have you heard of the Dark Legion?” I ask. “Was there any mention of that in Plantation-15?”
“What if I have?”
“I need to find their leader,” I say. “As soon as possible.”
12
A punching bag and my fists are the only things I need at this moment. I punch and kick with all
my strength and won’t stop until I can’t take it anymore. While I have questions and no answers, I will keep fighting. As long as I need an ending, I will not search for a beginning.
I repeat these random ideas to myself as sweat runs down my face and my back. In the end, I
have to accept that I am trapped in who I am and the only way out is the path I will create on my own.
I’ve known this all my life but I allowed myself to relax and get cozy on Exodus L21. I forgot the one essential truth I have known since birth: freedom comes at a price.
“It looks like you want to kill that bag,” Joshua says as he steps in the training ring. “I have news
for you. It’s never even been alive.”
I pause to glance at him. I wipe the sweat off my face with the back of my hand. “There’s a
reason why they call it a punching bag,” I say.
“There’s something more to your hatred of the aliens than what the rest of us feel.”
“They don’t teach you to hate the aliens on Exodus?”
“We are taught the facts which usually results in some strong form of dislike,” Joshua says.
“Down here we have more than history lessons,” I say and go back to my punching session.
“They enslave us, kill our mothers, mutate the brains of our siblings and they mess with our bodies
and minds.”
“I know about Pip, but is this why Damian is so strong?”
Without realizing, I am tipping Joshua off. Finn would be very disappointed in me. What else is
new?
“Whatever they do to us, it’s a form of torture and mutilation of our true selves,” I say. “Isn’t that enough to piss us off?”
“They want you. More than want, they need you,” he says. “Why? How?”
“I’ve never played nicely with them. Beyond that I can’t tell you.”
“That’s funny, that’s what Eldritch said more or less when I asked him. Is it because you told
[scifan] plantation - books one to three Page 39
