by Chris Harris
But the sudden restlessness worried her; the Hive only felt like that in dire times. She remembered the last time she felt like this; on the onset of the Adjeti War. She was young then, centuries ago and, by Pyrkagias standards, still young now. She barely remembered the war itself, but the feeling of your body tearing itself apart and the confusion as you saw out of a hundred pairs of eyes, all moving in the opposite direction, was something she'd never forget.
She closed her eyes and opened the Hive-Stone to the Swarm.
The Swarm was the hive-mind of the entire Pyrkagia race, and all the emotions, knowledge and memories of every Pyrkagias that ever lived resided in it. She searched through it until she found a blazing surge of fear and anger. She honed in it and delved into it.
Fires, flames, fear gripped the building before it toppled. Things flew overhead, spewing fire down upon the land. Raan was doomed.
She closed her mind and was filled with dread: there was a Pyrkagias on Raan, and it was at war. It took all of her resilience to hold her body together as the bugs' instinct was to flee from the danger perceived by the Hive-Stone.
She turned and walked out of her room.
The walls of the corridor she stepped into were pure white, with windows traversing one side of it. Out of the window, Devilclash could see the New Orbus skyline below. Pillars of steel tried to touch the sky, but ultimately failed, while further away from the building she was in, Devilclash could see small dark-red squares, obviously roofs of houses. These had a road cutting through the centre, but the houses had a lot of green area surrounding them.
The building she was in was the Spire, or, as some called it, The Empire Building. This was where the Twelve rulers of the Empire met. As ruler on New Orbus, Lord Tahkshi was the leader of the Twelve, and the other eleven were due to arrive for the monthly conference soon. Yuki of Raan was already here, Devilclash had noticed; her perfume carried a distinctive scent that the bugs choked on.
There were signs on the wall, with signalling the directions for various areas of the building: the Presidential Suite, where the rulers of the Empire stayed, the Senate Room, where Tahkshi met with his ministers, such as Cinradahs, and the Empire Room, where the rulers met with Tahkshi. But Devilclash didn't need those signs; she had been around this building long enough. And even if she hadn't, she wasn't heading to either of the areas listed.
She heard footsteps approaching and she turned to see who it was. Although she need not have bothered, as she started to feel choked up: Yuki. “You.” Yuki said, indicating Devilclash by jutting her chin upwards, “Where is Cinradahs?”
“Up the corridor and round the corner.” Devilclash said, in pain from the scent.
Yuki strutted down the corridor and Devilclash returned to normal, the Hive trying to breath easily again. She shook her head: Yuki didn't even thank her. Although, Devilclash remembered, her planet is at war.
Using the Hive, Devilclash hovered above the ground now, careful not to make a sound as she went to Cinradahs's office; she wasn't sure if she was supposed to be there, but curiosity was in her nature.
Yuki knocked at the door. A voice answered, but Devilclash didn't hear what it said; it was too muffled. She figured it must have been “come in”, because Yuki entered, not bothering to close the door behind her.
Devilclash moved closer and heard Cinradahs say: “You are at war.”
There was silence for a moment, but then Devilclash heard a choked cry of “Impossible.”
“I am afraid it is not.” Cinradahs said calmly. “I have advised Admiral Fairns to surrender to the Xaosian forces.”
“The Xaosians? Why am I not surprised...” Yuki swore. “And why surrender?” she spat at Cinradahs.
“On the Xaosians ship, they have a weapon akin to the World-Burner; they threatened to use it on the Sea of Oil.” Cinradahs said, slowly and carefully, as if talking to a child. “That will destroy Raan. They won't use it if you surrender.”
The World-Burner: the Hive hissed at the very mention of the machine. Adjeti and Pyrkagia were locked in a devastating war decades before the World-Burner was created. In fact, the Adjeti were the only beings to ever discover how to kill Pyrkagia.
Yuki seemed in distress. “We-well, what about the Orbital Defence System?”
“Admiral Fairns,” Cinradahs called. There was a tapping sounds, like someone typing on a V-Board before Cinradahs continued. “Admiral. What is the state of the Orbital Defence System?”
Devilclash sent one of the Hive bugs to the doors and looked through its eyes. Everything was suddenly huge, but she could see the screens now. A middle-aged human dressed in a sleek silver armour, different to the white and grey of the others behind him. “Minister. My lady.” The Admiral nodded to each of them respectively.
“Have you surrendered yet?” Yuki asked.
“No, but we will when we get your confirmation.” Fairns looked at Cinradahs, “I'm sorry Minister, but I can't act without Yuki's approval.”
Cinradahs slammed his fist down on the desk, scaring the Hive. Bugs scattered briefly, before rejoining again. “I try and help your world.” Cinradahs growled, “And you throw it away because of your refusal to help yourself.”
Yuki jolted, but then regained her posture, looking more haughty than ever; she obviously liked annoying Cinradahs, even in this time. “Admiral Fairns, what is the state of the ODS?” she shot a smug smile at Cinradahs.
“Almost non-existent.” Fairns said sorrowfully. “I'm sorry, but there are very few cannons left. Two at my last count.”
The smug smile melted from Yuki's face. “What?”
“The Dominion's weapon destroyed them all.” Fairns said, shaking his head.
“Well...then...” Yuki seemed to be lost for words, before she yelled, “Use the remaining cannons and destroy The Dominion! Target the weapons and bring it down! We will not surrender!”
Devilclash reeled the Hive bug back into her body; it made up part of her left hand. She had heard enough: with that unrelenting woman in charge, Raan was going to die. She passed a framed picture of Orbus before it was scorched. Luscious, green plantlife filled the picture, with only a few small buildings scattered among it; it reminded her of her home on Buun. She wondered how the Orbans would view this massive, floating city as a memorial in contrast to their nature-embracing world. She had once delved into Swarm memories to get a glimpse of Orbus, but she could not find much, and what she could find was either after it's scorching, or locked away; some Pyrkagia didn't want to share their memories, and thus put inhibitors on their Hive-Stone. Usually these were for military or governmental reasons, but sometimes there were others, usually intimate, that were locked away. She felt a pang of sadness that she had never been in her childhood, but the Adjeti had imposed strict travel sanctions on the Pyrkagia after the Adjeti/Pyrkagia war; they were confined to Buun.
She continued down the corridor and into the Planetarium.
In the centre of the dark room was a huge ball of light; Solus, the star that eleven of the Twelve orbited. Around Solus were smaller spheres; not to full scale, or else they would have been dwarfed by Solus. There was the brown Rat'hak, the orange K'hrak, the blue Quarus, the silver Irin, the light grey Raan, the black Xaos, the red Prauw, the white Narcsia, the green Buun, the yellow Tras and the dull grey of New Orbus. Around another smaller star was another black planet: Oblivion. Devilclash reached up and grabbed the Virtual-Model of Oblivion and pulled it down to her. The artist who had made had even put tiny ruins on it; it truly looked dead, unlike Orbus, which seemed as though it had never been lived on.
She left the Planetarium through its other door and walked along a busier corridor. People barged past her, knowing the Hive out of place; she was no good in crowded places. Most of them were human but there was other species marching through the corridors: the reptilian Scalimen of Narcsia, here to escape their dying world; the strange Trasmen, whose hair had a literal mind of its own, and Quarens who wore a tank-lik
e device around the neck to provide oxygen to their gills; their world was largely underwater. There was even a Hak'i, with its tusks trimmed to stop any accidental impaling. Devilclash looked around, but could see no other Pyrkagia; not unusual for a public place outside of Buun.
Devilclash put her discomfort aside and pressed on, pushing through the crowd. It took all of her resolve to keep her self together, despite the temptation to do otherwise. Out of all of her eyes, there were people standing, moving, walking. Out of all of her ears there were people talking into phones or to each other; it was deafening. From any of her angles, it was difficult to see the walls of the corridor. But she persevered.
After what felt like an eternity, she emerged from the corridor. There was still a lot of people here, but this hall was huge and could easily accommodate thousands. She headed to the left side of the room and walked along until she found the door she was looking for, before knocking.
“Come in.” came a voice from within.
Devilclash did so. “Ah, Devilclash!” the Irinian sitting in the chair exclaimed. “How are you?”
Irinians were nicknamed Cyborgs for a simple reason; their electronic implants and augmentations. The augmentations allowed them to store knowledge, become faster and stronger, whilst being able to directly control their bodily processes by repression. Also, to protect against the vicious storms that frequented Irin, they had metal fibres woven into their skin.
“I'm good thanks, Seir,” Devilclash said, “but not for long, I think.”
“Why?” Seir asked.
Devilclash left an hour later with a heavy feeling in her heart; she started the walk happily, just wanting to see her friend, but instead she had told him about the onset of war.
Chapter 6
Tors 1
The windows were shook and rattled by the wind, while a substance from the sky hit and burned the windows: acid rain. Trees were uprooted, flying past Tors's pockmarked window. He looked at the devastation outside. The statue of Ardican in the town square was half melted, the stone face sliding down its leg. There was nothing outside; nothing living anyway. Dead birds lined the streets, the feathers burnt by the rain. Some had their necks snapped from where the wind had dashed them against buildings. Everyone remained inside, only a few with the window hue set to transparent.
The planet Narcsia was tearing itself apart.
“At least the earthquakes have stopped.” Tors muttered to himself, trembling. He noticed that his scales had turned a dull red with worry, rather than the bright red they once were.
“What?” came a voice from upstairs.
The house Tors lived in was very traditional. There were three floors, with an escalator to each. Each person living in the house had their own floor, Tors with the middle. His house-mates had the others: Pandora downstairs, Emola upstairs.
“I said “at least the earthquakes have stopped!”” Tors called, coiling up his tail as he sat down.
“I know.” Emola called. “That was pretty bleedin' obvious, if you ask me!”
Tors's scale briefly shifted darker, before returning to their usual state. “It was just an observation!” Tors said, annoyed.
“Well it was a stupid one.” Emola said as he glided off the escalator. He nodded to the other escalator, “Pandora up yet?”
Tors chuckled, his reptilian lips curling up into a smile. “Her, up before dawn?”
His companion expressed a small smile at that. “Yeah true, should've thought about that.”
The rain battering the window seemed to pick up in pace and it seemed like the window might buckle. Luckily, the acid rain appeared to be mixed in with normal water rain, judging by the lack of new burns on the window. But the rain came harder and harder and Tors was sure that the window would have shattered if it was made of glass like usual windows, rather than a reinforced plastic.
“Tors!” Emola called, looking out of the other window.
“What?” Tors said, mesmerised by the pounding rain; the winds were so powerful, it was almost raining sideways.
“Naarl's house is... destroyed.” Emola said, his deep-blue scales growing darker. “I think he's dead.”
“No.” Tors whispered and hurried over to the window. Emola was right; the house was split down the middle by a tree, the trunk almost as thick as the house. There was no way Naarl, especially at his age, could have survived. “Poor guy.”
“Yeah...”
They fell into a respectful silence.
Tors went over to the table and turned on the Screen. Static greeted him. He grimaced and turned the screen off; the weather was even messing with the video signals. They had no way of communicating with the outside world now.
“Signal out?” Emola asked, glancing over at Tors.
“Yeah.” Tors said, before punching the cushioned chair. “Damn it!”
Emola gave Tors a strange look. “There's nothing you can do about it, and blaming the chair isn't going to help anyone, especially not the chair.”
“That's the thing,” Tors clenched his fists, “We have no control. No say if we live or die. We could all die like Naarl,” he gestured in the direction of his house, “without meaning or warning.”
“I'd rather not have a warning,” Emola said, “that way it doesn't haunt you.”
“I'd like a warning.” Tors said, more to himself than to Emola. “Have time to prepare.”
“Nah.” Emola shook his head. “Enjoy life until the end, I say.”
Tors pointed to the window. “Enjoying life right now?”
“You know what I mean. Oh, morning Pandora!”
Pandora emerged from up the escalator and stepped off less than gracefully as she tripped on the edge. As she fell, her hair reached out, grabbed a door handle, and pulled Pandora back up before it wrapped itself around her. She looked nervously up at the others and gave a shaky grin. “Is it morning? I cen't tell, it's so dark.”
Emola nodded at the escalator. “Nearly slipping there?”
“Nearly, yes. Thet's the best bit about being a Trasman; the hair looks out for you.” She spoke to her now, like a mother to a child, “Don't you? You look out for me, don't you?”
“That always creeps me out.” Emola said to Tors, gesturing to Pandora.
Pandora laughed. “Well, what do you Scalimen have? Big tails that are in your way? Oh dear...” She put on a mock frown before investigating, then sitting down on the cushioned chair. “I wish you wouldn't abuse the furniture Tors, this thing was frayed enough.”
“Does it really matter?” Tors said, his scales burning dark red.
“Calm down.” Pandora gestured at his scales. “Just a joke. You can wreck whatever you went in here, we cen't take it with us tomorrow.”
“If Evacuation-Day is still tomorrow and not delayed again.” Tors said dismally, “If it hadn't been, Naarl – across the road – would still be alive.”
Pandora's smile fell. “Yeah, I heard you say. He wes like a mentor to me, learning me the ways of Narcsia.”
“He will be missed,” Emola said, suddenly serious.
“He will.” Pandora said.
The storm raged outside.
There was a creak from upstairs.
“What was that?” Emola asked.
A deafening crack echoed as the winds tore the house's roof from its foundations. Tors watched it fly into the air, before being devoured by the storm, reduced to rubble in seconds.
“Close the door!” Tors yelled. Emola obeyed as water rushed down the escalator as the top floor flooded. The door click shut, then hissed as it sealed to be waterproof.
Tors let a breath out; that could have been bad. He looked back outside and he could see the winds ripping the upper walls to shreds. Soon, the ceiling above him would go, and those walls would be torn away. Down would be the only way to go, with a frantic dash as a torrent of water and acid storming behind them. Wind would take hold of their possessions and use them in combat, whilst grabbing Tors in its claws. T
ors would prevail, but Pandora falls. Emola picks her up and drags her down the escalator, calling for Tors, who does not hear over the roaring winds. But he eventually finds the strength to pull himself up, muscles straining and, against Narcsia's apparent wishes, he throws himself down the escalator, closing the door to be watertight. Looking outside, Pandora makes a half-hearted quip about the cushioned chair flying past but then fell back into silence.
And all Tors could do was watch the chair spin, hoping that it wouldn't get revenge and puncture a window.
They were down to one last ceiling.
One last hope.
Chapter 7
Foton 1
With the cold metal railing in his hands, Foton leaned over the balcony; a large semi-circle that jutted out of the Spire not far from its pointed peak. From here, Foton could see to the edge of New Orbus and to the dusty stone ruins of Orbus beyond. He looked down to the streets surrounding the Spire. There were landmobiles on the grey roads, their anti-gravity generators negating the need for wheels. Foton disliked landmobiles; they didn't have the sense of freedom that aeros had. The aeros had full 3-Dimensional movement, within certain bounds; they were to go no higher than 1500 Standards due to aerospace regulations. Sometimes, Foton wished he could forget his responsibilities and just fly, free of society's restraints and the bounds of gravity.
Foton moved along the balcony, his arms gliding along the smooth metal railing. From this position, he could see more of the parks that been specially grown for this metal hulk of a landmass. While he could not see the people in them, he knew that there would be children there, playing together under the watchful eyes of their parents; this wasn't like Raan, where children were brought up by Raisers. Further away, Foton could see the ten biodomes, each mimicking the average climate of one of the other planets in the Twelve, aside from Oblivion. This allowed New Orbus to grow food and host animals from all of the planets, not having to rely on trade in case of emergency. These were huge, each the size of small towns or large villages; the populace were not running out of food any-time soon. These were guarded by a collection of orbital systems, which Foton could just about make out from his viewpoint as a group of silver dots in the sky. But these were no-where near as well protected as the Anti-Gravity generator that suspended New Orbus above the surface of Orbus. Not only were they monitored by a stealth-orbital system, but their locations were kept a secret, with several decoys. Each had a mag-pulse generator, to repel high-speeding metal projectiles, and the thick, dense casing should be enough to repel orbital cannons. From his viewpoint, Foton could see one of the decoys; he knew where the real one was. These were giant cuboid buildings, stretching almost 1000 Standards into the sky; unmissable, but necessary to house the hulking machinery within.
