by Jack Halls
He slunk over the side of the ramp. Crouching low, he darted toward the corridor. After what seemed an eternity, he reached the opening and peered inside, wondering if he was crazy as he ventured forward into the bowels of the ship. The short corridor ended in a “T” after a couple of meters, with metal walls that reminded him of the maintenance decks aboard the Leviathan. He pressed his back up against the wall and looked down at the ramp. At any moment, that ramp could close like the jaws of a steel trap, and he would be stuck inside. He took a deep breath, swallowed, and moved farther into the corridor.
It was two meters to the intersection, but he might as well have been crossing the Void again. Nothing moved. Nothing made a sound. The cold walls were completely silent. When he reached the intersection, he peered around one corner, then the other. Each branch terminated in identical metal doors at least two meters wide and over three meters tall. He didn’t want to know why they were so big.
He scratched his head. There were no buttons or levers that he could see. He wondered if they were automatic, and hated the idea of setting off a sensor. He closed his eyes, took another deep breath, and thought of Takomi. He couldn’t give up now. Jaw clenched, he stepped toward the door to his right.
No sooner had he stepped out into the intersection than the door in front of him slid open. He froze in his tracks. The room beyond looked like it held cargo, but Gideon only saw one thing. The ape creature leaned against a crate with its back to Gideon. It was bigger than he’d thought, and he wondered how it fit through the doorway. The dome he’d thought was its head was actually a helmet, now sitting upside down on the crate.
Gideon couldn’t move. The creature made a sniffing noise, then slowly turned. It jumped back on its stubby legs and squealed. It wore thick metal armor the color of rust. It had the complexion of a half-ripe tomato, with heavy eyebrows over small, humanlike eyes. Its face contorted into a snarl, revealing fanged teeth and an expression that could only mean one thing.
Gideon didn’t wait to see what it would do next. He spun around and out the hatch, down the corridor, and leapt off of the side of the ramp. The ground flew up to meet him. He hit it and rolled, sprung to his feet, and took off faster than he ever had before.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Tloltan
GIDEON SPRINTED UP the embankment, away from the ship. Over his shoulder, he saw that the creature was indeed chasing him, but its awkward gait was too slow. At the top of the hill, he glanced back again. The creature had fallen behind, but now the insectoids were pouring out of the hatch. They moved fast enough to give Gideon another burst of adrenaline.
He dashed down the other side of the hill, until he reached the edge of a ravine, and jumped without hesitation. He landed hard on a sandbar in the middle of a stream, rolling into the water. Wet but unscathed, he thrashed through the water to the opposite bank.
Once on dry land, he was running again. Strange birdlike screeches echoed behind him, each one closer than the last. He stole another glance over his shoulder. They weren’t down in the canyon with him, and for the moment, it seemed that his reckless leap had paid off. Yet all around him, the screeches echoed down into the canyon, increasing in volume and intensity behind him. They had picked up his trail. This narrow gorge was the last place he wanted to meet those things up close, so he pushed himself even harder.
He scrambled up a dry waterfall, and the canyon opened up into a wide gully. He paused in the shadows of the canyon until a screech behind him got him moving again. He ran out into the open gully toward a spot that didn’t look too steep. The screeches were right behind him before he was halfway across. Over his shoulder, he spotted three insectoids scurrying down the walls.
He wasn’t sure his legs could keep up this breakneck pace, but he kept moving. Another alien scrambled down the wall to his right. Gideon adjusted his track, but a second later, another pursuer came over the wall to his left. He’d been cut off.
The idea of being chased down and tackled from behind seemed like an awful way to die. Now that the option to flee was gone, his mind steeled itself for battle. There was something liberating about being forced to fight. He allowed thoughts of revenge to permeate his mind. These creatures had attacked his ship and killed many of his friends. They’d destroyed the only home he’d ever known. Because of them, his father was missing or killed. And now, in the belly of their ship, they had Joseph, Sophia... and Takomi.
Hatred pumped through his veins, and he set his jaw and looked around for a weapon. A piece of driftwood lay half buried in the sand, and he ran for it, yanking it out of the ground and charging at the closest insectoid. A bellowing war cry erupted from his chest as his bloodlust took control.
The creature in front of him paused. Before it could react, Gideon dove at it with an overhead swing. The club came down on the creature’s shoulder with a satisfying crunch. The alien wasn’t protected by a carapace, like Gideon had expected, and the blow struck soft flesh, cracking the bone beneath.
It squealed and recoiled from the attack, holding its injured arm close to its body. Gideon swung again. The club made contact at the base of the creature’s neck, snapping in two as the alien crumpled to the ground.
Gideon spun around. Four more creatures advanced. They flinched as he bared his teeth and shouted another war cry. Chittering together in their bird language, they spread out to flank him. He hurled what was left of his club at the closest one, then turned and ran past the dead creature and up the steep wall of the gully.
Something grabbed his ankle, and he looked down to see a scaly hand latched onto his boot. A well-placed kick broke the grip, but before he could continue up the slope, another hand grabbed him. Dirt slipped through his clawed fingers as he was dragged back down into the gully. Once on level ground, he flipped around onto his back and kicked up into the face of one of his attackers. It reeled backward and screeched in pain.
Before he could attack again, an arm came down on his shoulder, pinning him to the dirt. The aliens clicked and squealed as they encircled him. Their silvery bug eyes showed no emotion, and when their mandibles clicked open, he could see a mess of tiny teeth inside.
With his free arm, he swung at another face and missed. As they pinned him down, one of them produced a sticky ribbon from its mouth. While Gideon struggled to break the grip of their willowy hands, the creatures wrapped the sticky ribbon around his legs. It quickly dried, constricting around them until he couldn’t move.
Another figure elbowed its way into the circle, and Gideon found himself looking up at the ape creature. It grunted and clicked commands at the insectoids as it leaned in close to Gideon. Foul breath blasted out of its flat nostrils into his face. It prodded him with its huge hands as the insectoids continued mummifying him.
Completely helpless, Gideon could do nothing but watch as the pack broke up and left him wriggling on the ground. The ape creature grunted and screeched at the insectoids, gesturing at the still body of the one Gideon had clubbed. It was likely that he’d killed it, but there wasn’t a sympathetic bone in his body for the monster.
While the aliens continued clicking and screeching at each other, another group consisting of two more apes and at least a dozen insectoids crested the ridge and descended down into the gully. The larger group appeared to be heavily burdened with an assortment of gear. The apes wore armor similar to the first, in addition to a bulky rifle over their shoulders. The insectoids wore a lighter armor, and carried long sticks with a glowing blue tip.
Gideon didn’t even have time to speculate what the sticks were for before the first of them jabbed one into his side. Searing pain shot through him, and his entire body went rigid. Even his lungs seemed to be frozen because he couldn’t cry out. White light filled his vision, and he must have passed out, because the next thing he knew, he was being lifted up by two of the original insectoids.
There was nothing he could do to control the vomit that spewed out of his mouth. With the ringing in his ears and the thr
obbing in every muscle, he couldn’t even feel satisfaction that he’d thrown up all over one of his captors.
They stood there holding him between them while the ape creatures jabbered away at one another. Their screeches and growls seemed intense and heated, but for all he knew, they could have been talking about the weather. While they talked, two more of the insectoids wrapped up the body of their fallen comrade in the same sticky ribbon that held Gideon.
He spit out some of the stomach acid in his mouth, wishing for nothing more than cool water to wash it out. As he hung there like a sack of garbage about to be tossed out, he realized he had failed. He’d failed to find his father, to save his friends, he’d failed to stop Devereux, and most of all, he’d failed to simply survive on Valkyrie. All he’d done his whole life was prepare to live on Valkyrie, and he’d failed.
The ape creatures seemed to come to an agreement, and lumbered off back toward the ship. The insectoids followed, hauling Gideon with them. For the moment, it seemed they would let him live, but considering some of the possible alternatives, he wasn’t so sure that was a good thing. If nothing else, he hoped to see Takomi and the others before the end.
Something glinted in the sun behind the mob. Gideon turned his head in time to see what looked like a giant golden spike come down behind one of the insectoids. It flashed again, and the insectoid seemed to fly apart like a bundle of sticks in a hurricane. Before the other creatures could react, another flash disintegrated a second insectoid.
The remaining insectoids leapt back, releasing Gideon from their grip. He hit the ground hard and immediately started wriggling in vain to free himself. Something slashed through another insectoid, cleaving it in two. Weapons fired all around him, but Gideon could only catch glimpses of it from his limited perspective. Finally able to roll onto his side, he looked up in time to see what was attacking the aliens.
It was huge, even taller than the ape-men, with humanoid proportions, but much larger than any aionian. Glinting metallic golden armor covered it head to toe. Elaborate runes and patterns covered the armor, and it wore a strange ornate helmet topped by an decorative headdress. The “sword” that Gideon had seen was actually an extension of its arm. The warrior looked exactly like one of the Luzariai from his father’s book.
This strange warrior stood facing the apes, who looked terrified as they backpedaled away from the golden figure. One of them reached behind its back for its weapon, but the Luzariai warrior lunged, and in a blur, it ran the creature through.
The ape grunted and slumped over, dropping the weapon. It fell to the ground and made a low gurgling noise for a few seconds, then went silent. The golden figure pulled out the blade, now glowing red, and spun around to face the other two ape creatures. Several insectoids leapt into Gideon’s line of sight with their staff weapons ready. The Luzariai swung its sword-arm, slicing their staves in half, one by one.
While the golden warrior was occupied with the insectoids, the apes took their opportunity to fire at it. Their rifles sounded with an electric crackling, and struck the Luzariai in the back. Its free arm came up, and the metallic armor on its forearm morphed into a shield, protecting it from further volleys.
The sword-arm swung in a wide arc, decapitating one of the insectoids. It pointed the sword at one of the apes, and the blade glowed with a deadly fire. The ape raised its arms to protect itself as a fiery beam leapt from the point. The ape creature squealed as the beam bit into it, forcing it back. An insectoid took the opportunity to jab its staff into the Luzariai, and the warrior collapsed onto one knee.
The insectoid pressed the glowing tip of the staff into the Luzariai’s side, but the golden figure swung once again and cut the creature in two. Before the two apes could react, the Luzariai lunged at them, covering twenty meters in the blink of an eye. The shield hand now morphed into a second blade, and with each sword-arm, it ran both of the ape creatures through.
The swords morphed back into normal hands.
The Luzariai turned to face Gideon, towering over him.
Fear gripped Gideon as the figure looked at him. The warrior’s face was covered by a hideous mask depicting a demonic creature. At least Gideon hoped it was a mask, more terrified by the thought that this could be its face. The intricate patterns and adornments on the armor seemed ancient.
It took a step toward him, and Gideon flinched. The figure paused, holding up its hands. On its right palm, the symbol of the Aeternal, the lines that formed the image of a person, was plainly visible. “I will not hurt you, human,” it said in a deep, metallic voice. “I am your friend.”
Gideon’s jaw dropped. He stammered for a moment, finally finding the words. “You speak English?” he said, as if accusing the Luzariai of a crime.
“That is not exactly correct. I am incapable of articulating your language. However, the suit I wear is capable of translating for us both. I am called Tloltan.”
Gideon opened his mouth to speak, hesitated, then stammered. “You... you’re a Luzariai.” Tloltan slowly advanced toward Gideon, and this time he didn’t flinch, though his muscles tensed.
“You must be part of the Order. That is good. Then you already know that my people have watched earth since the dawn of the human age,” said Tloltan as it knelt next to Gideon. “We know much about your culture, perhaps even more than you do. There is no time to explain.” It straightened up and looked around. “More of the Maodoni will come. This group is only a small number of the soldiers aboard their vessel. We must leave this place.” Tloltan held up a five-fingered hand, and one of the fingers lengthened and flattened out until it became a sharp, serrated blade.
“Be still,” it said as Gideon’s eyes grew wide. “I will not hurt you, but I must free you of the silk.” Tloltan put one huge hand gently on Gideon’s shoulder, and with the finger-turned-knife, carefully cut away the sticky ribbon. It moved quickly, using its other hand to pull away the gooey threads. Somehow, they did not stick to the golden armor.
Suddenly, Tloltan stopped and turned its head to look over its shoulder. Without warning, it grabbed Gideon and dove to the side, rolling to avoid crushing Gideon beneath the huge warrior’s weight. A split second later, there was a loud boom, and the dirt exploded where Gideon had just been.
Tloltan tossed Gideon roughly to the side and spun around. There was another loud boom that knocked the warrior from its feet and into the cliff. The blast that had struck Tloltan spread out from their chest in arcs of electricity. Gideon spun around to see one of the ape creatures lying on its side with its weapon raised. It aimed at Tloltan for a third shot, but the warrior picked up a rock and threw it at the other alien as fast as a bullet, striking it in between the eyes. It collapsed, dropping the rifle.
Tloltan slowly climbed to its feet. The armor over their chest was burnt and blackened.
“You’re hurt,” said Gideon, still trapped in the silk.
“Yes,” Tloltan said. Gideon watched as the golden armor shifted and repaired itself. While it did so, Tloltan calmly walked over to the ape creature, and raised an arm over its head. The arm morphed into a blade even as it fell, and before Gideon could look away, Tloltan had taken off the creature’s head. As the blade changed back to normal, Tloltan walked back over to Gideon. “We must leave now. I shall carry you.”
Gideon didn’t have a chance to protest before Tloltan moved forward. The huge warrior picked him up with one arm as if he weighed nothing. Tloltan took three long strides, then leapt up five meters to the top of the gully.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Discovery
TLOLTAN RAN EVEN faster than Gideon could in Sentinel Armor. The wind whipped by Gideon so fast that he couldn’t keep his eyes open when he looked forward. Instead, he looked down at the golden blur of Tloltan’s legs propelling them over the ground.
Before Gideon knew it, they were moving up a steep incline over rocks and boulders. The rough terrain barely slowed Tloltan down. As they entered a dark ravine, they slowed enough for Gi
deon to look around him. Tloltan was still moving fast, but was now using its other hand to pull itself over the boulders and trees.
A hollow, rasping noise come from Tloltan’s mask. It sounded like it could hardly breathe. “You’re hurt badly, aren’t you?” said Gideon. “We should stop so you can rest.”
“We have nearly... reached our destination,” Tloltan answered. “Just... over there.” It pointed to a large boulder on the side of the ravine. Gideon could see no reason to stop at that particular spot until Tloltan stepped around the boulder and ducked into a hidden cave.
Tloltan set him down and removed the silk while Gideon studied the cavern. A small fire illuminated the entire space, and as Gideon’s eyes adjusted, he saw it was only a few meters deep. It was tall enough that Gideon could have easily stood, but Tloltan had to bend nearly in half. A small collection of equipment and supplies lay strewn about. The gear looked strange, but he could see familiar objects like rope, clamps, and bags.
A shiny sheet covered some of the gear. Whatever was stored under there was long and skinny, and at one end, there was a round object that caught Gideon’s eye. Gideon stared at it and suddenly realized that it was a head.
Gideon moved toward the head before Tloltan could finish removing the last strands of silk. He sighed in relief, seeing that it was still attached to a body, which lay under the sheet. He moved around the fire to get a better look. The face came into view. It was his father, Admiral Ethan Killdeer.
