by Cheree Alsop
Liora thought of the microchip in his head. “We didn’t sign up for any of this,” she agreed quietly.
Smaller tunnels branched off from the main one. Liora kept to the larger path. The thought of being caught in one of the smaller holes with Vos in front of her and the warriors behind set her on edge.
The sounds of claws on the rock turned her head. She peered down one of the smaller tunnels, but the light from the bars above didn’t pierce the darkness.
Liora realized the warriors’ staves with serrated blades on the tips would be hindered in the hallway. She grabbed the weapon from the closest warrior and held it over her head.
“Break your weapons in half,” she commanded. “It’ll give you a better chance to kill the enemy and not each other in this close quarters.”
She brought the staff down on her knee and it snapped. She handed the warrior back the two pieces. The others followed and the command ran down the line so that the sound of cracking staves echoed back and forth. The fact that the army followed without question was at least reassuring of her position as their leader. Perhaps they would have a chance.
The further they walked, the more the sounds of claws in the darkness followed until Liora peered into a tunnel and found the round black eyes of a dozen Vos staring back at her.
“We’re under attack!” Liora shouted.
The sound of the army spacing themselves to fight was loud in the passage. They didn’t have armor or any type of defense for combat besides the broken staves in their hands. Liora could only hope that the battle training they had received from the Cherum would be enough.
A hiss sounded and black spray shot from the tunnels around them. Liora shielded her face with her arm. The Ventican clothing took the brunt of the spray, saving her from the acidic effects. All around her, the warriors cried out in pain as their skin melted and smoked.
Instead of cringing away, however, the Cherum’s army turned from pain to anger. Liora saw the battle lust in their eyes, the rage brought on by the programming of the microchips. The warriors surged forward, storming down the tunnels on every side.
“Stay together!” Liora yelled. “Don’t separate!”
Unable to hear her command in the chaos, the warriors lashed out at the Vos in the darkness. A figure brushed past Liora. She stared at Tariq’s form as he charged into the depths of the channel after the Vos. She couldn’t let him go alone. Against her instincts, Liora followed Tariq into the obscurity.
Her blades met Vos right and left. Their scales were tough, but the metal of her weapons bit deep. In the half-light, she aimed for throats and stomachs until the floor was slick with blood and entrails. Her Ventican outfit proved strong against the sharp claws and hooked teeth.
Liora let out a yell when a Vos’ claws scraped along the side of her head. She spun and sunk her knife deep into the creature’s throat, then sliced downward to spill the contents of his stomach along the floor.
She heard Tariq grunt in pain. Turning, she saw huge bloody rents along his arms and chest. A Vos had latched onto his shoulder with its hooked teeth. He stabbed the creature repeatedly with his serrated blade. It tried to get away, but the teeth held it fast until that was the only thing holding it up.
With one swipe, Tariq separated the Vos’ head from its body. The carcass fell to the floor with a thud. Liora shoved her knife between its jaws and pried the teeth from his mangled flesh. She got it free and was about to drop the head when an image struck her.
Three pillars of light hit the ground, scattering members of the family. They hid among the boulders and watched tall, pale creatures float down the light to land on the yellow sand.
The image had been burned into the Vos’ mind with such strength it was the creature’s final thought. Liora stared at the head in her hands. A fine eyelid made of delicate, translucent skin covered its dark eye; she guessed it was to protect the Vos from the sand. The slight scales that made up its snout showed a variety of orange in softly hued patterns she hadn’t noticed before. Fine hairs covered the slits that made up the Vos’ nose.
There was a delicacy to the head she held that increased the foreboding in Liora’s chest. She looked at the bodies scattered along the ground. Though their padded feet were tipped in long claws, the claws appeared better suited to digging than fighting, especially given the short stature of the legs. The creatures were built for speed and the sunlight, yet they hid in the tunnels of Basttist.
“Liora?” Tariq asked.
She glanced at him. Blood from the fight colored his face. His expression still showed the battle fury inside of him, yet there was a gentleness to his gaze when he said her name that seemed to calm him.
“I think we’re making a mistake,” Liora said.
She had to know for sure. She set the head down carefully beside its body and took off back up the way they had come.
“What do you mean?” Tariq asked, catching up.
“I think we’re fighting for the wrong side,” Liora said above the din of the battle.
She saw Tariq stop short out of the corner of her eye, but she didn’t slow. She had to verify what she thought, and there was only one way to be sure.
She reached the junction where it opened into the larger tunnel to see the warriors in the midst of combat against the Vos. Blood was everywhere. Bodies of both the Cherum’s army and the Vos lay in every direction.
Tariq reached her side. “What do you need me to do?”
“I need a Vos; a live one,” she told him.
Without showing any emotion about the enormity of the task, Tariq reached the closest battle and bulldozed a warrior fighting one of the Vos. As soon as Tariq reached his feet again, he tackled the creature, pinning its legs beneath it. The Vos writhed, its tail thrashing and black liquid spattering the wall he pinned it against. Tariq didn’t release his hold.
Liora dropped to her knees next to the creature and put her hands on its head. The Vos immediately stopped moving.
Liora searched through its thoughts. She didn’t know what she was looking for. The mind of the Vos appeared similar to the felis from Verdan, but there was an intelligence to its patterning that surprised her. The thoughts were coherent, the memories bright. Liora searched until she found what she was looking for.
The complex was built in less than a week by the army of creatures the tall ones commanded. Any attempts to communicate were rebuked. A member of the family was slain, her head skewered on a staff outside the compound. Others were sent and the number of heads grew.
The tall ones were not there to live in peace. They would destroy anyone who attempted to stop their progress. The family fell back, but the tall ones directed skirmishes to pick off those they could. The impact of loss made the family desperate; the Father sent half of them to attack. They weren’t heard from again. Fearing that the absent members of their family were trapped within the compound, the Father commanded them to advance and wait in the tunnels until the time came to attack and defend their right to their home.
Liora took her hands away. Horror filled her.
“We’re fighting the wrong people,” she said to Tariq. “The Cherum are taking this planet by force; they’re killing anything in their path.”
Tariq backed up a few steps and Liora let the Vos go. It watched her, its eyes not blinking and muscles tense as though it was ready to run if need be.
Liora pushed her thoughts toward it. She showed the Cherum complex and the rows upon rows of warriors. She showed it the Cherum, meek and quiet as they put microchips in the heads of their army.
“I need to know why the Cherum are here,” Liora said.
If the Cherum were indeed taking the planet by force, she had to understand the reasoning behind it before she allowed the army to slay more of the Vos.
“How do we stop them?” Tariq asked.
Liora followed his gaze to the slaughter that continued down the tunnels. The Vos and the warriors were both taking heavy losses. Liora didn’t know how
to protect them from each other, but she had to try.
She closed her eyes and pushed. The Vos didn’t speak in a language she could understand or emulate, so instead, she chose to go with emotions. Using her adrenaline-fueled strength, she forced feelings of peace and acceptance down the tunnel and along the branching paths.
The minds of the warriors she touched met her with confusion. The anger and aggression caused by the microchips were hard to combat. She answered with feelings of contentment and amity. In the minds of the Vos, she found fear and protectiveness. She returned with reassurance and understanding.
The sounds of fighting in the tunnels slowed, then ceased altogether. Liora barely dared to open her eyes. It took all of her concentration to keep up the push. Surprise almost undermined her efforts when she saw the Cherum warriors and Vos crowding in front of her in silence.
A circle roughly five feet in front and behind her was kept clear as if by some unspoken agreement, but beyond that, warriors and Vos stood side by side as if they couldn’t get enough of the emotions she was pushing. The hostility was gone from both sets of faces. The warriors waited quietly, their staves abandoned and wounds bleeding.
The Vos were in similar shape. Of those closest, one was missing an eye and several had gouges out of their scaled hides; yet they waited, and the sound of breaths through their heaving chests gave the only sign that the battle still remained in their hearts.
Liora carefully eased back on the push. She felt Tariq’s hand rest on her shoulder. She was touched by his offering of strength, but she pulled the emotions not because she couldn’t maintain them any longer, but to see if the calmness could continue without her blanketing them with the soothing emotions.
She was able to ease up much further than she thought she would. When signs of agitation, shifting from foot to foot or reaching for weapons began to surface, Liora pushed just enough to calm them again. Maintaining careful control, Liora lifted her voice.
“I think we’ve all been fooled,” she told them. “The Cherum are taking this planet by force for themselves and the Vos are defending their home.”
At the sound of her voice, several of the Vos started, but Liora pushed at them images of a land free of the complex. She was met with feelings of happiness.
“I need to know for sure,” Liora continued. “I need to return to the complex to find out for myself what the Cherum are up to.” She paused, then said, “It may be that we need to change our objective.”
Silence met her words, then a warrior called out, “Whatever you say, Commander.”
Nods went through the gathering. Warriors holding bloody arms and torsos appeared less concerned about their injuries than they did her words. She wondered how the Cherum would feel about having their channeled aggression turned.
“I have to be sure,” she said. “I will go alone.”
“I won’t let you do that,” Tariq replied.
Liora set a hand on his arm. “If they guess my intentions, I won’t get past the door. As it is, I need you there to let in the others.”
Tariq shook his head. “I don’t like it.”
Liora gave him her most confident smile. “We’ve got an army at our backs. Let’s make sure we’re fighting for the right side.”
She informed the Vos of her course of action with an image of her speaking to the Cherum. To her relief, the Vos followed quietly as she led the way back up the long tunnel.
Chapter 8
It felt strange to hear the scraping of claws alongside the steady footprints of the Cherum warriors. The combatants who had fought so devastatingly only minutes before walked side by side under the steady push of harmony she sent them. Liora could only hope she could keep it up when she was inside the Cherum’s complex.
The door opened at her approach. When she stepped inside with Tariq, she was surprised to see a single Cherum waiting within the great room. The vastness appeared even more so with only the individual Cherum to take up space. She reminded herself that any Cherum spoke for the mass; they were one entity. The thought of a plague entered her mind. She dismissed it quickly before the unsettling feeling it brought reached those waiting in the tunnel.
“Have you accomplished your task so quickly?” the Cherum asked, his eyes green.
Liora stopped a few feet away. She felt his gaze on the blood streaking her clothing and hair.
“You could say things are a standstill,” she replied.
The Cherum’s gaze turned yellow. “How is that possible?” he asked.
Liora lifted her shoulders in a small, calculated shrug. “Perhaps we’ve reached an understanding.”
The Cherum’s eyes shifted to red. “The only understanding is that the Vos are to be destroyed.”
“Let’s put aside pretenses,” Liora suggested.
She pushed into his mind, hesitated at what she found, then pressed even further.
The Cherum’s brain wasn’t structured like anything she had ever encountered. Instead of feeling as though she was inside a single being, the Cherum’s thoughts flowed through some sort of thought network that branched the entire complex, connecting every Cherum together as one. She could feel them all at the same time, the identical need for sustenance, safety, and knowledge, the unattached composure with which they viewed implanting the army to fight for them, the want to be the superior race.
Liora’s heart slowed when she found the memory bank. She began to sort through the recollections, and with each one, her emotions became harder to maintain.
The Cherum landed on a green planet and used its army to destroy the creatures living there. Another craft followed, this one filled with millions of Cherum that swarmed the planet like locusts, picking it dry of every resource possible. The Cherum used the microchips to make the army kill themselves. When the planet was used up, drained and dead, the Cherum went to the next and built another army.
Images of trading resources for warriors interspersed remembrances of watching the army destroy everything in its path and then kill themselves so the Cherum craft could come and suck the planet dry of any valuable ore, food, water, or other valuables left by slaying the host species.
Liora had to stop looking. She could feel the tenuous hold she had on her emotions slipping.
“You only destroy,” she said, bringing herself back to the present so she could address the Cherum.
“So do you,” he replied.
The statement, delivered in calm tones, made her furious.
“You wipe out families, races, for your own wellbeing,” she stated.
“A trait I admire of the Damaclan,” the Cherum replied.
Liora’s hands clenched into fists. “I may be a killer, but even I know that life has a purpose. I don’t destroy it lightly.”
“And you feel that we do?” the Cherum asked.
“Yes,” Liora growled.
She crossed to the Cherum and grabbed his neck in her hands. He watched her, his gaze purple with amusement.
“What do you think killing one of us will do? We are many upon many. We will continue to come here until the Vos are gone. Even as we speak, more warriors are being made. Your paltry few won’t be able to stop us.”
Liora glanced behind her at Tariq who waited near the door. At her nod, he walked to the wall and the oval opened wide.
“We are no longer a paltry few,” Liora replied.
She saw the Cherum’s gaze flicker to the yellow of surprise as the warriors and Vos flooded into the room.
“How do I call the ship down?” Liora demanded.
“Y-you can’t,” the Cherum replied.
Liora glared at him. “Who can?”
The Cherum didn’t answer, so Liora pushed into his mind. His yellow eyes widened as she searched. She found what she wanted and pulled back. The army around her had gathered in a circle with her and the Cherum in the middle. Not a sound came from them. They were expecting her to be the leader and example.
Liora drove a fist into the Cherum’s
chest and when he doubled over, she grabbed his neck and spun, snapping it easier than she had thought possible. She let the body fall to the floor. Respect showed on the faces of those around her.
“There’s a central creature,” she said when she pulled back. “It’s a core of sorts, the Center. It communicates with the rest of the Cherum. Find it and lead me to it.”
“Yes, Commander,” one of the Cherum army said.
Liora caught herself. They weren’t the Cherum army. They were her army.
“Call me Warden,” she told him. “Find the rest of this army they are creating and give them the choice to join us or die with the Cherum.”
The warrior who had spoken saluted with one clawed hand and took off down the closest hallway. The others flowed after him.
“You’re commanding them?” Tariq asked. A drop of blood slid from the blade in his hand to the floor.
“Somebody has to,” Liora replied. “I can’t imagine an army like this running around the Macrocosm without someone to keep them in check. They’re dangerous.”
“Which is why you choose to lead them,” Tariq replied.
Liora glanced at him. “Yes, with your help.”
Tariq nodded. “They need someone who understands.”
Liora looked at the body near her feet. Killing the Cherum hadn’t felt like the deaths she was used to. When she snapped his neck, it had been more like breaking a branch on a tree. The Cherum wasn’t a life separately, but instead was a part of a whole. In searching his mind, Liora had found that the being didn’t have a name, because he wasn’t an individual. He wasn’t even a ‘he’. The Cherum was a single petal from the same flower, yet it wasn’t a flower. This race was a weed, choking off the life of the creatures around it without a care for their existence.
“They need to be stopped,” Liora said.
She knew Tariq would take her at her word, but she didn’t want to be the only one who understood the full impact of what she was about to undertake. She didn’t accept race annihilation lightly; yet that was exactly what she needed to do.
