by Chris Harris
“Strom!” A familiar female voice called out as a blur came into view. Strom shook his head, aiming to clear the blur, but it just made his head hurt. Wincing, he clutched his head and moaned. The voice cried out again, sending his ears ringing.
Strom cried out. A small scream in both frustration and pain. Vision still obscured, he tried to say words and, after a few gargles, he managed to shout hoarsely, “What have you done to me?” He coughed, before noticing that his voice had changed; his accent was gone. “What are you?” He panted, lungs aching.
“Strom!” The voice pierced his ringing ears. A hand grabbed his chin and forced his head up. “Look at me.”
Strom blinked a few times, his vision clearing slightly each time. “Ilisa?”
Ilisa tutted. “It's about time.” She threw her arms around him, and kissed his cheek.
Strom put his arms around her slowly, feeling awkward in his skin; maybe it was just because he'd been unconscious for a long time. “What's going on?”
“You were dead.” Ilisa said bluntly. Strom opened his mouth to question, but Ilisa put a finger over it. “Don't ask questions yet. Your body was dead, but your mind was sound. So, I brought you to New Orbus for healthcare, but the Xaosians were here. They shot me down and I crashed on the surface. These beings are Orbans, Strom. They preserved themselves, and saved your life.”
“How?” Strom asked. “This body, my skin, my muscles, they don't feel right. What have they done to me?”
“They won't feel right yet.” Ilisa closed her eyes and exhaled. “It's not your original body.”
Strom's brow furrowed. “Original body?” He looked around, taking in the bubbling tubes, and the arrays of computers. One of the Orbans looked at him, and nodded in acknowledgement. Strom waved back awkwardly, looking more like his arm had a seizure than any fluid movement. “Am I a clone?”
Ilisa nodded, then spoke slowly and carefully. “Your body is, yes, but your mind is exactly the same. It's how the Orbans survived all this time; clones, while keeping the mind preserved in a computer server.”
“So I'm not...I'm not me?” Strom asked, before stopping and staring at his hands again.
“You are.” Ilisa nodded. “On the inside, you are exactly the same. On the outside, it's like your body has been refreshed; you look exactly the same. You'll get used to it.” She went to touch his face.
“Get away from me.” Strom's voice took on an authority she hadn't heard before.
“But Strom-”
“Get away!” Strom closed his eyes as she roared, before hearing a loud bang followed by equipment clattering to the floor. He looked up to find Ilisa slumped on the other side of the room. He looked around; no-one was near either of them. “Ilisa!” He ran over to her, cradling her head. Her eyes were open, so she was still conscious. “What happened?”
Ilisa got up, and pushed him away. “I...I think you did it.” She seemed confused. “Sa'tui, I need to talk to you.” She called to one of the Orbans, who beckoned her over. Strom tried to follow her, but she put a hand on his chest. “Stay here. Put your clothes on.” She pointed at a pile next to the tube he was in. He nodded, and Ilisa walked quickly over to the Orban Sa'tui.
His clothes felt strange against his new skin, and he imagined that was how a newborn felt when they first had to wear clothes. The rough fabric rubbed against his skin, feeling like tiny scratches up his legs; his skin felt overly sensitive. When he had finished, he watched Ilisa and Sa'tui talking. Ilisa seemed to be quite lively in her discussion, but the Orban seemed indifferent to her gestures.
Strom thought about what she'd said. “She thinks I did it....” He muttered, thinking about how. “I didn't move...” He remembered what he'd learnt about the Orbans when he was at school. His Raiser had told him that they had a special power, but never further elaborated. What if that power passed on in the cloning process? He looked at a small tube on the floor, and concentrated entirely on it. In his mind, he pictured it moving along the cold floor. When he looked at it again, he held his hand so it was facing it, and willed it to move. His eyes widen with amazement as it rolled along the floor, before standing on its edge. He chuckled; he could control things with his mind. Then he realised what he had done to Ilisa.
She was walking over now. “Strom, I –”
“I know Ilisa.” He walked over, and gathered her up in his arms. “And I am so sorry; I never meant to –”
“I know.” Ilisa said, kissing his cheek. “You'll – no, we'll, get used to it. Together.”
Strom nodded. “Yeah.” He pointed at the tube. “I moved that a minute ago.”
Ilisa smiled. “Not quite as big as me. Here.” She stood in front of him, arms spread wide. “You need to get used to it, control it. Lift me with your mind.”
Strom took a deep breath, and focuses, before his concentration broke. “No, Ilisa. I can't.”
“Yes.” Ilisa nodded. “You can do it.”
Strom shook his head. “It's not a case of whether I can do it or not. It's a case of I don't want to. I hurt you before, I could have injured or killed you.”
Ilisa walked up to him, and punched him in the arm. He looked at his arm, and then at her hand. “The hell was that for?”
“Now we're even.” Ilisa went back to her position. “Now lift me.”
Strom smiled; she was cute when she was trying to be angry. “Alright then. I'll try.”
He extended a hand, and imagined that he was holding her at her waist. He then raised his hand, imagining he was lifting her her up. Concentrating on that image, he saw past it, into reality, and saw that he was indeed lifting her with his mind through his outstretched hand. She looked down at the floor and laughed, and he did too. The sensation as the power bridged the gap between mind, hand, and Ilisa was a tingling feeling, which he found he rather enjoyed.
“I'm gonna try and set you down now, 'kay?” Strom called to her.
“Alright.”
Ilisa was carefully lowered, before Strom accidentally dropped her the rest of the way. She fell, limp, but able to land on her hands and feet. He ran over to her. “Ilisa! You alright?”
She stood up, and brushed herself down, laughing. “You need to practise putting people down.” She chuckled still, throwing her arms around him again. “That was amazing!”
“It felt it to me too.” Strom noticed how unusually cuddly Ilisa was being today.
“You did well Strom.” A voice echoed in his head. Strom turned around to see Sa'tui and another Orban. “For a human.”
“It's amazing.” Strom nodded. “Thank you.”
“It was an accident that you ended up with these powers.” Sa'tui continued. “But we will help train you to use them.”
Strom bowed his head. “Thank you.”
Sa'tui copied the bow. “Now, lift her again, and put her down. Carefully this time.”
Strom smiled as Ilisa took up her position again; they will learn together.
Chapter 45
Cinradahs 4
Cinradahs's shoulder was tender, and still hurt when touched, but the doctor had done a great job otherwise, especially in the time-frame he was given. When he put his shirt back on, he could still see a red mark and dent where it used to be, but at least the bullet had been dug out now. He leaned on Saiun as they hobbled towards Keinam's ship.
“You up for this now?” Saiun whispered in his ear.
“Yeah, I'm good.” Cinradahs muttered, annoyed at himself for having to rely on Saiun; they'd been through enough.
“No you're not.” Saiun touched his shoulder, making Cinradahs wince, proving his point.
“No, you're right.” He batted Saiun's hand off his shoulder. “But I'm OK for the journey.”
Keinam was walking over to Cinradahs, probably to stop him being in too much discomfort. “Are you ready now?”
Cinradahs nodded. “I think so. The troops are boarding the flagship, and the smaller ships are being loaded right now. We'll be ready in about
half an hour, I'm certain.”
Keinam nodded. “Good. The Adjeti will wait for you before we head off. Why are you loading the ships onto bigger ships? Waste of time.”
“They're not fit for interplanetary travel,” Cinradahs answered, “the engines are too large.”
“The ones we developed before we were almost destroyed were more advanced than that, then.” Keinam pointed at his own ship. “Did you humans not develop at all since then?”
“We had no need,” Saiun turned on the defensive, “we were busy replacing the technology that we relied on you for.”
“Blame the Pyrkagia, not us.” Keinam hissed.
“Oh, I do.” Saiun nodded. “I was just making a point.”
Keinam nodded. “Fair. I await your word to go.” He turned, and walked away.
When he was out of earshot, Saiun whispered “He's kinda intense, isn't he?”
“Can you blame him?”
“Course not. Maybe he shouldn't be such a dick to us though; we're helping them too.”
“I think they'd be fine on there own,” Cinradahs pointed at the ships, “they beat off the Xaosian army in minutes; we're simply tagging along.”
“Let's hope they don't turn on us then.”
Cinradahs nodded. “I doubt it'll happen.”
“I hope not.”
A dishevelled-looking woman run up to Cinradahs and stood haughtily before him. It took him a moment before he realised that it was Yuki, Raanian president. “I demand you take me with you.”
Cinradahs felt his chest tense and an anger rose inside him. Brushing Saiun off, he walked slowly to Yuki, standing up straight as he did so. She backed away slightly, before remembering to stand her ground. “You do not demand from me.” Cinradahs hissed, pointing a finger at her, almost touching. “I owe you nothing. Nothing! I saved you, I saved all you stuck-up diplomats while you did nothing! You've done nothing to help your world. In fact, what you did do could've hurt it more than it already is; count yourself lucky Xaos was going to use the Earth-Scorcher anyway, or you would be held accountable too.” He moved away from her. “You do not demand. From me. This is to keep you safe, and out of my way.”
Cinradahs walked past the shocked Yuki, and he imagined that Saiun made an apologetic face at her, like he always did when Cinradahs got annoyed.
“Was that really necessary?” Cinradahs detected anger in Saiun's whisper.
“Probably not.” Cinradahs reflected. “But she's an irritating bitch, and she deserved every word of it.”
Saiun considered this for a moment. “You could probably have phrased it better.”
“Probably.”
*
The ships were loaded onto the flagship, and there were just a few troops still sauntering around; new recruits, trying to find where exactly they were meant to be.
“Get a move on!” Cinradahs entered the hangar bay, dressed in his black commander's armour, carrying his helmet with his uninjured arm. Saiun had already put his grey helmet on, but its visor was up, as he didn't really need it down in a non-combat scenario; the visor displayed holograms showing the user's vitals and ammunition count. “We haven't got all day.”
“Well, we might do.” Saiun remarked. “Only real reports are from Xaos, and I imagine he's not all that reliable.”
“So, far everything he said has been true.” Cinradahs realised. “Aside from perhaps the Irinian allies; they never showed up.”
“Maybe they misled him.”
“Hopefully.” Cinradahs nodded. “Especially with the Narcsia victims there.”
They gathered up the rookies and got them on board at last. Cinradahs and Saiun took the long walk through the military flagship, past the small hangar bays, past the armouries, path the engine room, the medical bays, the troop quarters, and the exterior weapon stations, until they finally reached the bridge. Cinradahs sat down in the commander's seat, where he could watch over the navigators and various techies below. Saiun stood next to him, as if he was a bodyguard. “Are we ready for departure?”
“Yes commander, just waiting for the Adjeti's confirmation.” A pretty blond girl spoke up, catching the attention of some of the young men in the room.
Cinradahs opened a com channel. “Keinam, you ready to go?”
Keinam quickly replied. “Of course.”
“Alright, let's go.” Cinradahs cut the connection, and turned to Saiun. “That guy is starting to piss me off.”
The hangar doors opened, and the ship began to move out. The engines roared, and Cinradahs imagined the red flare they made as the ship began speed up, until it left the bay completely and careened upwards through the sky.
“Enabling L-Drive now, Commander.” Tarib, the blond girl, informed them as they reached the optimum point away from New Orbus.
Cinradahs waved her along, letting her know that he approved of the action. “I hate being in charge of this.” He muttered to Saiun. “Not meant to be actually in war, I'm sure.”
“No-one is.”
*
Even from space, Cinradahs could see some of the damage to Raan's oil sea. Flames raged across the coast bordering the Sea of Oil, and the sea itself seemed orange-tinted; perhaps that was on fire too. Smoke made dark clouds over the once-bustling landscape, and he couldn't see any life beyond them. “Take us down to Tapal; there should be somewhere we can set down.”
As they descended, Cinradahs made his way over to the viewing screens and looked at the devastation outside. Smoke was rising from everywhere, pillars of it where constructed in the sky. Some buildings stood proud and tall, but Cinradahs had no idea how; the fallen around them were naught but bricks and mortar now. Some where leaning on other, similar to how Cinradahs was leaning on Saiun earlier. He shuddered to think how many corpses were buried in the rubble, or cremated in the smoke plumes.
The flagship set down in one of the fields on the outskirts of Tapal, Cinradahs took the long walk out of the flagship once more, Saiun behind him. As he walked past the soldiers' quarters, he signalled to two soldiers to accompany him.
“What're your names?” Cinradahs asked.
“Maron.” The older one had a somewhat hoarse voice.
“I'm Rals.” The younger one seemed nervous.
“Good to know.” Cinradahs left the ship, and hoped to see light, but there was none. A sepia landscape greeted him; even the sky seemed to be a shade of brown. He turned to Saiun. “Any idea where the Adjeti ships are?”
Saiun pointed to the sky. “Looks like Keinam's got a load of them scouting the place from the air, but I don't see his ship up there.”
Cinradahs spoke into his com. “Keinam, where are you?”
“Not far from you, I saw your hulking beast of a ship land; I wanted to wait before speaking to the Raanians, my presence could have freaked them out.” Keinam replied bluntly, before cutting communication.
“He's got a point.” Saiun said, noticing how annoyed Cinradahs seemed.
After much debating with himself, Cinradahs reluctantly agreed. “Doesn't have to keep insulting our tech though.”
“He's a soldier from a long-thought dead race that has better and sleeker ships than ours despite a couple of centuries of no technological development.” Maron pointed out. “He's not gonna be impressed by them.”
Rals nodded in agreement. “It's not as if he doesn't have beef with humans.”
Cinradahs sighed; they were both right. Of course the Adjeti would hate humans; Ardican, the final operator of the World-Burner, had been a human. “Yeah, fair enough. You're right.”
Keinam's larger Wing-Ship descended gracefully, landing next to the relatively colossal Empire flagship. As he left the ship, Cinradahs noticed how quickly Keinam moved, almost superhumanly fast. “My scouts found a group of humans not far east of here.” He proclaimed. “They seem to be the only human life around.”
Cinradahs noted his use of words. “Human life? Is there any Corlen life detected then?”
“Possi
bly.” Keinam nodded. “But it is hard to tell; they're not alive in the same way we are. We are alive thanks to a complex system of organs. They are alive simply because they somehow gained sentience. They cannot be killed, only destroyed, and that's a bitch to do. So we destroyed a load of them, then drove them down into the core of this world.” Keinam looked into Cinradahs's eyes. “It was the only way to stop them taking the Empire for their own.”
Cinradahs looked into Keinam's eyes, and saw a lifetime of pain stare back at him. Those eyes had seen so much death and destruction, betrayal and war. But they were hardened now, and portrayed no emotion other than anger. Anger more poignant than any he had ever seen. Anger at the humans, at the Pyrkagia, at the Corlens.
In that moment, Cinradahs finally understood Keinam's bitterness and hatred for everything that wasn't Adjeti or Orban. They formed the Empire, they gave it their secrets, their technology. They saved the Empire from the Corlens, and they couldn't even defeat them. Cinradahs shuddered to think how many Adjeti that war had cost.
Keinam gave him a strange look, half-annoyed, half-curious. Cinradahs looked away immediately, turning to Maron, Rals and Saiun. “Let's go find these survivors.”
Chapter 46
Foton 6
The journey back to Prauw gave Foton time to think. He had no idea what Tujin Diank had done to warrant the assassination, but he was almost certain that wasn't the purpose of the mission. The silver cube worried him, and the crackling between it and Tujin's implanted augmentation was all the more unsettling.
“Can I get you anything, Mr Fown?”
He turned towards the strange falsetto to see a Trasman flight attendant; he'd forgotten the pleasures of first-class commercial flights. For some reason, he was upgraded on the way back to Prauw. Foton assumed it was something to do with Blind Assassin; evidently, he pleased with Foton's handiwork.
Foton smiled a smile as fake as the flight attendant's. “No thank you.”
The smile faltered for a moment, before he moved on to his next customer. Foton frowned, and then remembered one of the luxuries of first-class flights; the television. He turned his one on, throwing a cheap pair of headphones over his ears. Switching through the channels, he found the Irinian news channel.
