by Chris Harris
Finoh followed his gaze. “Not that I've seen before, no. Maybe it's something to do with the gate being opened. Now come on; we've got the archives to explore.”
Guran followed Finoh through the streets until they found the old, stone library building; the archives were in the basement, below the research and fiction books on the upper floors. It looked, from the outside, like an ancient fortress. For all Guran knew, it could well have been. With one last concerned look at the sky, Guran entered the library.
Chapter 42
Cinradahs 3
Adjeti?
While Cinradahs could agree that the beings that had saved New Orbus certainly looked like old sketches of the long-dead race, he had a hard time believing that there were any left in the Empire. Oblivion was a dead world; he had never been there himself, but the pictures showed a world that could never have been lived on. Maybe a few had survived, but this was not just a small colony; this was a full military operation.
Cinradahs watched as one of the beings, slightly larger than the others, and with gold markings on its armour, came over to him. “Are you in charge here?” It asked forcefully.
Standing up, Cinradahs began to notice how bad his shoulder was again. “I suppose so, yes. Who's asking?”
Cinradahs noticed a flare of annoyance in the thing's eyes. Then, its armour seemed to peel back off of the thing's red skin, before reaching the centre of its chest, disappearing entirely. Underneath was just some casual clothes, made from a gold-dyed leather. “My name is Keinam. Warchief Keinam, one of the rulers of the Adjeti race.” Keinam cocked his head. “You are sceptical of my claim.”
Cinradahs made a noise of exasperation. “Well, obviously; your world is dead, and your race with it.”
Keinam moved closer to Cinradahs. “Look around; do we look dead to you? Look at our ships. Do they look like they were made on a dead world by a dead race? No. Our world is just as alive as it was before the World-Burner was built.”
Cinradahs shook his head. “I've seen pictures of Oblivion; it's a lifeless husk. If that was how it was in its most prosperous years, then the Adjeti weren't exactly what they were built up to be.”
Keinam took a deep breath. “You don't know how much I want to kill you all and take our Empire back. The rest of the Empire – Our Empire! – sentenced us to death. You would be nothing without us.”
“Your kind destroyed this world, what did you expect?” A line of people began to gather nearby; close enough to hear, but far enough away to not get caught up in any fight that might arise.
“Our weapon destroyed this world, but we did not fire it.” Keinam was quiet, as if he was playing his trump card. Cinradahs stepped back, suspicious. “And we can prove that it was the Pyrkagia.”
Gasps echoed around the line, and Cinradahs recoiled in shock. While he didn't quite believe it, he could understand it; the Pyrkagia had been enemies with both the Adjeti and their Orban allies since they encountered one another, and, from what he had read, the Primary at the time pushed for the World-Burner to be used on Oblivion; what a way to dispose of two races they despised. Why had no-one seen this?
“Yes, the Orbans had wanted to stop fighting the Pyrkagia. Yes, the Adjeti were annoyed. But we would not have fired on them; it was purely defensive against any hostile beings entering our Empire from beyond the stars.” Keinam glanced around, as if looking for something. “Ha'kuun. Come here.”
A black humanoid walked over. With a smaller body and longer limbs, this thing looked truly alien even before Cinradahs saw its single eye. “What the hell is that?” He muttered.
Keinam shot him a disgusted look. “Show some respect.” He turned to look at the hideous creature.
The thing bowed in front of the two leaders. “Human leader. Keinam.” It returned to a standing position as Cinradahs touched his temple; it sounded like the voice was in his head.
“It's ok.” Keinam muttered. “That's how Orbans speak; through your head.”
“My name is Ha'kuun.” The line of people nearby could obviously hear him now. “And I am one of the last Orbans.”
Cinradahs knew that he should have been as shocked as the crowd, but he just wasn't; evidently, his reactions had been blunted. “Orbans?” Cinradahs asked. “You didn't die out?”
“Not all of us. There are seven of us left.” Cinradahs raised an eyebrow at Ha'kuun's optimistic approach. “Thanks to the Pyrkagia.” The voice in Cinradahs's head seemed to somehow curdle. “We will kill them. Destroy them as they destroyed us.”
Cinradahs nodded, dazed. “Yes.” He turned to Keinam. “How did Oblivion survive?”
Keinam called to another Adjeti. “Otor!”
Another Adjeti came forward, covered in scar tissue and bruises. Cinradahs couldn't help but feel pity for him; he looked like he'd been tortured.
Otor nodded at Cinradahs and Ha'kuun. “Oblivion survived thanks to me and Keinam. We got wind of the plan to destroy our world, but we also worked out that you had only one way to do so; firing the World-Burner's laser through the Oblivion Gateway. We didn't have much time, so all we could do was simply change the gateway's coordinates, meaning it led from this Empire, to some dead world we'd found centuries before. Unfortunately, the gateway was built from this side, meaning that we neglected to put the controls on both sides; the Adjeti had no way back when the coordinates changed.” Otor cleared his throat. “I ended up on Xaos, stranded and unable to leave. Until I was captured, tortured, and forced to make an “Earth-Scorcher” for their army.” Cinradahs couldn't help feeling sorry for him. “Eventually, I convinced him that my world was alive and we would join his army. He allowed me to go to the Gateway, and I changed the coordinates back, forming the link to Oblivion once more.”
Cinradahs nodded. “Actually a brilliant plan.” He meant that genuinely. Then something occurred to him. “You built the Earth-Scorcher?”
Otor knelt down in front of Cinradahs, head down. “There is nothing I can do but apologise and hope you all forgive me.” Otor paused. “They tortured me, threatened to kill me; I had to survive to bring everyone back!” He finished in a small voice. “I never thought they'd use it.”
“What is the Earth-Scorcher?” Keinam asked.
“A weapon similar to the World-Burner, but smaller in scale.” Otor muttered.
“The Xaosians used it on Raan.” Cinradahs said, before remembering what Xaos had said. “He said that he need to kill the humans to unleash the-”
“Corlens.” Keinam nodded. “Much more powerful than your primitive race.” Cinradahs's face twisted into what he knew was annoyance, and Keinam smiled to see the expression. “The Xaosians will pay even more now. Maybe we'll exterminate them.”
Cinradahs looked at Keinam with wide eyes. “Exterminate them? No! You punish those who need punishing, no more.”
Keinam closed the distance between them with a single step. “Did anyone give my race that mercy? No thought besides extermination. While I'm glad you evolved from your aggressive natures, I hadn't expected you to become so naïve to your former mistakes.”
Cinradahs stepped back. “You know I had no part in your punishment; don't take it out on the entire human race.”
Keinam faltered. “I guess you're right.”
“I don't blame you for being bitter though.” Cinradahs massaged his shoulder; it hurt like a bitch.
It looked like Keinam was going to retort, but he calmed himself. “I have a deal for you: we will help you defeat the Xaosians in war – no extermination – if we can wreak our revenge on the Pyrkagia.”
Cinradahs sighed; he was in charge, it was all on him. Again. He felt he made the right decision before, and there was no way he could defeat the Xaosians without them. “Your revenge on the Pyrkagia?”
“I won't exterminate them, if that's what you want to hear. I will defeat them.” Keinam's tone seemed suspicious, but Cinradahs ignored it. “Get up Otor.”
Otor stood, head still bowed.
C
inradahs looked at the pathetic Adjeti, and then at Keinam, before extending a hand. “Allies?” He asked.
Keinam smiled, and took his head. “You're not bad... for a human. Allies.”
They shook, and then broke apart.
“First thing's first.” Keinam's tone was more authoritative now. “We should check out the Raanian situation; Corlens are dangerous creatures if disturbed. Undisturbed, they're quite docile, but I imagine that the earthquake probably riled them up.”
Cinradahs nodded. “Let's get the injured patched up before we go.”
Keinam nodded, leading Ha'kuun and his Adjeti away. “We'll be waiting by our ships.”
Saiun jogged over to Cinradahs. “You ok?” He put his hand on Cinradahs's wound and called for a doctor. One stepped forward and began to get to work on Cinradahs's shoulder.
“I'm fine.” Cinradahs grabbed Saiun's hand and squeezed it gently. “I'm fine.”
Chapter 43
Tors 6
Kivina assured Tors and Cane that the silver device in her ear was broken, and lost its connection with whatever transmitted the signal sometimes, before Cane could remove it. The device took over again at one point, leading to two Scalimen deaths, which she seemed greatly remorseful for. Later on, however, she had brought Cane, who had extended medical training, a pair of tweezers, a scalpel and some stitches. When she did so, he gave her a strange look.
“Stitches and a scalpel? Bit much?”
Kivina shook her head. “I dunno how deep it is. I dunno how Xaos got it in there in the first place. I tried to pull it out before, but it wouldn't come out.”
Tors glanced at Cane, who shrugged. “Could very well be attached to part of your brain.” Cane said softly. “I have medical training, but I'm no brain surgeon.”
She grabbed his hand. “Please. It's for your sake too.”
Tors nodded. “It is. I'll help you out Cane.”
“I will too.” Pandora chipped in. “We patched your knee up together, we can do this too.”
Cane chuckled. “Not exactly the same thing, but I would appreciate the help. Thanks guys.”
Kivina drank a thick purple liquid and struggled to swallow. “The anaesthetic will kick in soon. Please give it about five minutes before you start hacking away.”
As her eyes closed, Tors turned to Cane. “Can we do this?”
Cane sighed. “I have no idea what we're dealing with.” He shook his head. “If we can't, we'll probably kill her. Which means that they'll kill us.”
“If we can help her, she might be able to help us escape.” Tors remembered the cold night before. “We can't stay here much longer.”
“No, we can't.” Pandora chipped in. “We need to do this, one way or the other.”
Cane hesitated, before nodding. Tors could see the fear on his face, the nerves. “Alright, we'll do it.”
Kivina was definitely out cold; Cane's punch to the arm proved that much. After ordering the unusually-silent Emola to stand as a look-out, he grabbed the tweezers, asking Tors to pull her hair out of the way. Tors obliged, and finally got a proper look at the device; like a silver egg. The tweezers, magnetised, gripped onto the device and held it tight. Cane grunted as he tried to pull the device out, but there was no moving it. “Damn...”
“Pandora,” Tors had an idea, “Can you weave your hair into there and get an idea of what we're looking at?”
Pandora seemed to consider it, before agreeing. Placing her head next to Kivina's, she let her hair flow free into Kivina's ear. She squirmed for a while, evidently feeling around inside, before her hair retracted and she could get up. “That's lodged in there well; there's some sort of connector leading from the egg into the eardrum, probably continuing through the ear's structure and latching onto the cochlear nerve; if we can remove the egg portion, it stands to reason that it should cut off the connection to Xaos.”
Cane nodded. “Yeah, that sounds about right.” He gestured to Tors. “Hold the tweezers, and pull when I say.”
Tors did so, and pulled slightly on them; they didn't budge, being attached to the immovable device.
“Pandora,” Cane turned to her now, “When I say, use your hair to inch veins and arteries shut; if I can do this quickly, she should be fine.” Pandora nodded and sat next to Kivina again.
They all started breathing deep as Cane placed the scalpel on the back of her ear and made the first incision. A trickle of dark blood immediately appeared, oozing out of the cut. He forced the scalpel down further, and Pandora began to plug the leaking veins. Cane moved the ear, and asked Tors to hold onto it with his spare hand. Tors did so; it felt cold and clammy. He could see down the ear canal now, thanks to the extra hole Cane had opened.
Cane moved in further, cutting at the cartilage around the ear canal, giving him more space around the sides of the device. “If I can get in far enough to cut the connector, that'd be great, but I don't see that being easy.”
“You can do it, buddy.” Tors said, smiling a fake smile; he had no idea how this was going to play out.
Cane nodded in appreciation at Tors, before having a look inside Kivina's ear again. “Tors, give it a tug.”
Tors did so, pulling until his muscles strained, and he felt something give way. “It feels looser now.”
“Guys.” Emola called. “Xaosians coming.”
Tors looked at the mess that was on the floor. “Shit!” Heart pounding, he looked at the others; Kivina's prone body, Pandora, with her hair wrapped into Kivina, and Cane, hands covered in blood. “Alright...Cane, hands in pockets. Pandora, lie on top of Kivina: pretend to be asleep. Emola, move away from the door and grab a blanket, chuck it over Pandora, then sit with me. You too Cane, come on.”
They sat around together in their small hut, heads down. “So,” Tors glanced at the door; they had to make it seem natural. “You remember Naarl?”
“Oh yeah, he was cool.” Emola faked emotion there; Tors knew that he'd cared about Naarl, but it didn't seem like the place for emotions.
“Who was Naarl?” Cane asked.
“Some old guy across the street,” Tors glanced at the door; Xaosian shadows could be seen moving towards them. “He taught Pandora some of the history of the planet.” A Xaosian looked in, surveyed the area, and moved on, satisfied. “Keep talking keep talking. Emola check.”
Emola got up quietly, and wandered over to the doorway. “Nah, they're gone. Long gone now.”
Pandora threw the blanket off herself. “Finally; you have no idea how weird that was.”
Cane rubbed his hands on Kivina's clothes. “Let's finish this crap.”
Tors went over, holding the ear, which was colder than before. Cane went in, chipping the device with his scalpel as he did so. “Pull more.” Cane grunted to Tors.
Tors obliged, grimacing as he pulled as hard as he could.
“I can see the connector you said about,” Cane nodded to Pandora, “Should be a simple cut...”
Tors watched him use the scalpel like a saw until, eventually, the device came loose and Tors Jolted backwards as it came out. He let Cane and Pandora do the closing of the wounds; he wasn't needed, and he had no clue what to do. Instead, he looked at this egg-shaped device and watched sparks emit from the frayed end where the connector was. To him, as he turned it over in his hands, it felt light and in a sealed unit; obviously mass produced.
“Do you think all of the Xaosians have this in their ear?” Tors asked Emola, who had moved away from the doorway.
Emola nodded. “Most of them, anyway. I doubt all of soldiers do; I know one of them patrolling here doesn't.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, he doesn't wear his helmet and his hair's all clipped back, so you'd be able to see. You can usually see them, I find.” Emola seemed too knowledgeable on the subject. His mood changed as he remembered something. “In fact, I heard one of them say they've got a large of inhibitors tomorrow; do you think that's what these are?”
Tors felt a pang of
dread. “Almost certainly. We need to wake Kivina up and get out of here. Sooner rather than later.”
Chapter 44
Strom 6
Strom's eyes snapped open.
A liquid drained out of cylinder he was in, and he breathed in deep a few times, as if he'd been drowning; maybe he had. He raised his hands and stared at them, flexing his fingers and staring at both the palms and backs of his hands. Touching his face, he found it to be solid, but smoother than normally. He ran a hand through his hair, finding it in working order. He flushed when he realised that he naked, and rushed to cover up with his hand. Some strange creatures were wandering around near his tube, terrifying-looking beings; was he being experimented on?
I was dead.
He knew that he can't have been, or at least not for long, but he had seen the darkness. The dark at the end of the tunnel; no light like people say. “Walk into the light”, they say, but there was no light. He adjusted his hand so only one was covering himself and felt around where he was hurt before passing out. There was no pain now, although he had expected it; he remembered the crash, the calls of Ilisa, the begging. Olaf's death.
I should be dead.
He felt unusual in his own body, almost as if it wasn't his own; he knew that was ridiculous. It was his body, he could tell. Same skin tone, same hands, same hair. His face was smoother, but he assumed that that was an affect of whatever liquid he had been preserved in. When he moved, it felt strange, his muscles tensing and stiff as if he had never used them. He felt his heartbeat, finding it somewhat accelerated.
The hell is going on here?
He opened his mouth and tried to call to the beings in the room, but only a faint gargle came out; probably for the best, he had no idea what he'd say to them. Evidently, one of them had noticed the gargle, and turned towards him. Its single eye narrowed in what Strom assumed was suspicion, before it turned towards something outside Strom's field of vision. He tried to look around to see what it was, but his neck cracked and he groaned in pain; that didn't usually happen.
The tube opened with a hydraulic hiss. Strom tried to take a step out of it, but when his foot touched the ground, his leg buckled and he fell, only stopping himself by grabbing onto the sides of the tube. He dragged himself back up again, and looked at his hands; they were shaking. He noticed that his breathing was increasingly shallow, and he tried to stabilize it.
