Call of Courage: 7 Novels of the Galactic Frontier

by C. Gockel

  Figuring he was at her mercy anyway, Crasor spoke as he rose from the rough stone floor, “Who are you?” The words felt like a lame response, but he wanted to know the answer.

  “We, oh Crasor of the Ashamine, are everything you have ever wanted, everything you have ever dreamed of. You were drawn here for a purpose, and now, we offer everything to you. Yet we know you have questions, so ask.”

  Indeed, Crasor did, and he supposed the statement had been a logical guess, but something in the woman's tone suggested she knew more. Crasor had studied voice inflection as part of his training, and all his senses were telling him something was wrong. A vague memory of feeling violated passed through his mind, but vanished as soon as he tried to remember.

  “Forgive me for my impertinence, but could you explain your answer in more detail?” As he said this, he began to edge towards the wall, a plan forming that involved climbing back out of the deep crevasse.

  “Simply put, we are ,” the voice said, placing special emphasis on the last two words, making them sound like a title. “We are life. We are power. We are control. We are... the ultimate .”

  By this time, Crasor had made his way to the rough wall. When he grabbed the rock, pain shot through his hands, feeling like he’d touched a shuttle’s hot exhaust cowling. I can’t do it, he realized, knowing his hands were too raw and damaged to function.

  The feminine voice laughed delicately, and Crasor guessed she had known he would make the attempt. Dread welled up within him. All he wanted was to get away from this Founder's forsaken place. Since that was impossible, at least temporarily, he decided to play along.

  “OK,” he said, voice impassive. “You said I was led here for a purpose. Please tell me, what is it?”

  “Your destiny depends on a choice, one of greatest importance. It is simple. You can either take control and dominate the universe, or you can be absorbed and watch as someone else does. We can give you the Akked, Crasor of the Ashamine.”

  Crasor cocked his head, forgetting some of his anxiety. “It is my experience that gifts often require a reciprocal favor. What is it you would ask of me, were I to agree?”

  “Only for you to become the driving force behind the new order of this universe, to be at its center, its quintessence. No more will be asked of you, Crasor.” From what he could tell, the voice spoke truth. He was skilled at detecting lies, and he sensed no falsehood.

  “Let me ask you then, will this new order be humanitarian in nature?” As he continued, he couldn’t keep a greedy note from overriding his normally flat tone. “Or will it be subjugation?”

  The woman's voice laughed delicately. “Subjugation—most definitely.” All the mirth, fake or real, was gone now. It was cold, final, a fist to the face. “Crasor, we know .” He certainly didn't like the emphasis she put on the last word. “We know what you are qualified for, what you are willing to do. We know your actions prior to coming here, how many have died, and how many more have suffered from your actions. We know the joy you took in all of it. You were selected for this because of who and what you are. If we were humanitarian, we wouldn’t have separated from the Empress.” Crasor wondered what empress the voice spoke of, but had no time to think it over. “Any more questions?” The note of mirth returned to the voice.

  Crasor knew he could say no to her proposition, if he wanted to. All the mental compulsion that had been used to get him here was gone. The voice was permitting him to make this decision completely on his own.

  He paused for a moment, considering. The anticipation was exquisite. “What do I do?” Immediately after asking, he felt a directive in his mind. The voice said nothing, and Crasor decided it was his answer. He began following the crevasse down its length. Even though it was nearly pitch black, he had no problem navigating. He never faltered or stumbled. It was as if the directive was a map in his mind, leading him around jagged rocks and steep drop-offs he couldn't see. He felt empowered, like they’d unlocked his mind. After a short distance, he felt a weighty presence overhead. The crevasse has turned into a cave. His footfalls echoed and the floor begin sloping downward.

  After a few more minutes, he noticed a soft glow, growing as he neared its source. Rounding a bend, it became so bright he had to squint. Finally, his eyes adjusted and a small chamber came into focus, illuminated by harsh, cold light.

  There was power in the air—awe-inspiring and terrifying. It felt like electricity was arcing through the air. The place was malicious, dangerous. He momentarily thought about turning back. He could escape the blightheart his deepest self knew was coming. Crasor forcibly squashed the desire and entered the chamber.

  Immediately, he sensed the power emanated from a multi-faceted crystalline structure jutting from one of the chamber's walls. Seared and melted rock surrounded it. The crystal's beauty and complexity entranced Crasor. Light was not shining through it, but from it, producing a yearning. Its power felt overwhelming. I'll do anything, he thought.

  “Kneel,” the woman said, voice as hard as diamond. He bent his knees and settled to the floor. Pride kept his head high, despite the demeaning position. He had no idea what to expect, so he readied himself for anything.

  A small, dark core appeared inside the crystal. As he watched, it enlarged and began swirling, its edges granular. It became fractal, growing larger than his fist. An appendage sprouted from the darkness, stretching in Crasor's direction. When it reached the wall of the crystal, a tiny stream of dust fell out onto the floor. It flowed towards Crasor. When it was ten feet away, the dust stopped advancing and started to mound up. More continued flowing from the crystal, and the pile grew higher. In less than a minute, a humanoid shape stood before him. The indistinct figure grew more defined, becoming that of a woman.

  As details clarified the woman's face and figure, Crasor realized who she was. It was Emili Trayfis, his first and only love from back on Ashamine-2. Her eyes were closed, her breathing soft.

  Conflicting emotions raged in Crasor's heart. Should he run? Should he embrace her? Should he kiss her familiar lips? But Emili is dead. Has been for eighteen years. Crasor had no doubts, because he had killed her.

  When the doppelganger opened its eyes, Crasor had to choke back a scream of horror. Shiny crystalline orbs replaced the cool, refreshing blue ones he’d once stared into.

  “Does my appearance please you?” the doppelganger said, flashing a sultry smile. He didn't know how to answer. She continued without a pause. “True, this body is not actually Emili, but it matches her in every way that matters. Details are as you remember them, even the dark, warm spots you loved so much. And this Emili will never die, no matter how you please yourself with her. The same can't be said of the original, can it? Are you ready for your transformation?”

  The second question was so abrupt and off topic it took a moment to sink into Crasor's excited mind. “Transformation?” was all he could say in response.

  “Surely you have experience with nano-machines? My appearance, my voice, my substance, is all created from the aggregate of these machines. The technology you’re familiar with is in its infancy by comparison. Imagine the difference between a pebble and a starship. Your transformation will be accomplished by our nano-tech. We will empower and network you. We will reconstruct you into an entity of domination. You will become .” The woman's last word contained an emphasis Crasor was drawn to. His desire was fully aroused, all misgivings discarded.

  “I am ready,” he said, voice rich with anticipation. The doppelganger's visage wavered momentarily and then shattered, individual nano-machines cascading to the floor like dust. The black flow of machines moved towards Crasor. It reached his kneeling form and swarmed over his skin. He threw his head back and bellowed a cry of triumph that rang harshly off the chamber's walls.

  Once the nano-machines had totally enveloped him, there was a moment of calm. In the stillness, Crasor could feel the legs of the tiny machines, although he knew their microscopic size made this impossible.

&nbs
p; Then, there was pain. It felt like every cell in his body was rent in two. He was invaded, desecrated, devoured. More than just physical anguish, this pain penetrated his life force. It was excruciating, engulfing, all consuming. The nano-machines should have been able to pass into his body without this punishing sensation. “What–is–happening?” he screamed in agony. Crasor thrashed, his body battering and tearing itself on the jagged stone floor.

  In the midst of the pain, an image and voice developed. Not just any voice, but the voice. It was huge, booming, and epic beyond all size or proportion. “We are , Crasor Tah Ahn, and now you are as well. You were chosen. Now you will become .” Crasor felt it. The cleaving was replaced with mending, his life force being knit back together. And something had been added, something mysterious and powerful.

  In the next instant, Crasor felt another shift, although this was solely in his mind. He could still feel his body on the floor, but his vantage point was now on a building far above a vast city. The star of this planet was a cold red, the atmosphere dry and arid. A battle raged on the streets below. “We are ancient, Crasor Tah Ahn, and now you are One . We are immortal, Crasor Tah Ahn, and now you are One .”

  One side of the combatants, which was obviously human, fought on foot as well as with armored vehicles Crasor was unfamiliar with. Each rolled on tracks and had a large tube protruding horizontally over the main body. Every so often the tube would boom, launching an explosive projectile that made giant geysers of dirt spray from the ground.

  The force attacking the humans was composed of strange looking creatures. While they looked humanoid, many of their features told him they were definitely not human. At this distance, Crasor couldn't pick out details, but their major features were visible. Their skin was pale gray, absorbing more light than it reflected. The creatures' heads were tall and narrow with jaws full of sharp, symmetrical teeth. The vertical leading edge of their heads glinted brilliantly, suggesting some type of metal. An elongated, powerful neck joined the head to a lean, strongly built body. The creatures' legs propelled them swiftly over the battlefield’s broken terrain, effortlessly leaping over ten meters in a jump. Their arms were much longer than a human’s and each forearm had a jutting appendage that reached out past the elbow and reflected light. It reminded Crasor of a sword. Long, slender fingers tapered down to sharp points which also shone in the waning light of the red star.

  “Gaze, Crasor Tah Ahn, and see the subjugation of your forebears in a previous age.” Crasor watched in awe as one of the creatures jumped towards a human target twenty meters away. As it landed, the man was easily cleaved in two by the attacker’s slender head. Others used their forearm weapons to brutally dismember their human adversaries. They weren’t killing everyone, however. Sometimes, they used their fingers to penetrate a human's thin flesh, causing them to spasm and convulse. After several minutes of writhing, the human would rise. Crasor watched with a twisted grin.

  “Those not chosen are exterminated. Only humans with a certain penchant can become One . It takes time for them to mature, but they serve and are loyal immediately.” As if to illustrate this fact, one of the converted staggered his way towards a human. The convert knocked the woman down, and after a brief struggle, tore open her throat with his teeth. He raised his blood spattered face, searching for his next target. Crasor delighted in the dominance of the creatures. Excitement pulsed through him as he considered his own transformation.

  “This is but a small foretaste of what is to come. In times past when we ascended, the universe was disinclined. Now, there is richness for harvest. We can sustain. We will fully consume and the universe will ascend to the higher plane with us. But first many things must be broken, and you, Crasor Tah Ahn, will do the breaking. The humans and the Entho-la-ah-mines will be crushed under you. Both young and old will fall. You will subjugate the weak and you will obliterate the strong. Space-time is no match for what you will become. The dominion of flesh is at its end. Their ascension will not come—cannot come—because you, Crasor Tah Ahn will break their Dawn.”

  22 - Cazz-ak-tak

  Cazz-ak marveled at the crystal cave's fractal structure. He wondered, for the hundredth time, what had formed it. Thousands of Entho-la-ah-mine queens had been brought to this Great Chamber to usher them into adulthood. Its walls emanated a pale blue luminescence that made his exoskeleton glow. Cazz-ak could feel the group's increasing excitement as they walked further into the depths. It was a special place, a structure revered and treasured by their race. There would be no Entho-la-ah-mine species without it.

  Cazz-ak led them into the chamber’s center, and they formed a rough circle directly beneath the enormous primary crystal. Elth-eo-lan and her ward stood in the center. She looks nervous, but excited. As long as everything proceeded properly, there would be a new queen at the Awakening’s conclusion.

  The ritual was precise, the formula ancient. Remembering the Entho-la-ah-mine history in unison was the first step. We will relive the path of our species through the Great Thought, using the power of the crystal to bind it to the ward's mind. It was important the group be large, so the history wouldn't be interpreted through an individual’s perception. We must be balanced, Cazz-ak thought, linking his mind to those around him. The ritual would show everything, no matter how brutal or gory, so the new queen would understand their history.

  The group's sense of fear heightened as they stared down the shaft. The proto-Entho-la-ah-mine whose memory they were reliving thought there might be food below. It could also harbor predators. There was no scent trail. None of his kin had ever ventured down. The hive was hungry. He must check.

  The creature made his way into the shaft, tenuously clinging to the unnaturally smooth walls. He carefully moved each of his six legs. A single slip would send him plummeting into the darkness below. He felt very exposed to predators. There was no place to hide. It took him quite some time to get to the bottom, but when he finally did, he quickly slid behind one of the large crystal structures, listening. Silence. He tried to smell out possible food sources, but again, nothing.

  Moving from behind the pillar, the creature began exploring the large cave. Inadvertently, he wandered under the large central crystal. A surge of energy flowed through his brain, creating new pathways and complex cognizance. New emotions welled up within the creature as he saw the world in a new light. Who am I?

  As the ancestor left the cave, he noticed details that had escaped him before. Questions about his surroundings flooded through him. It felt overwhelming and it took him time to organize his thoughts and emotions. There is so much I have to learn, he thought, excitement welling.

  When he ran into another of his species, he tried to explain what had happened. I have found something great and wonderful. It is a place that brings your mind to life.

  The other rubbed his front legs together, signaling he didn’t understand.

  Come, the proto-Entho-la-ah-mine sent mentally, desperately trying to communicate. Without further exchange, the other departed, continuing the hunt for nourishment.

  The proto-Entho-la-ah-mine's newfound intelligence made him realize he was the only one of his kind. I need someone to talk to, he thought, wishing for a friend. This desire inspired a plan: I can signal I found food in the cave. They will follow. Once I lead them under the crystal, it will change them and give this new method of communication. So he did just that.

  The group watched through the proto-Entho-la-ah-mine’s eyes as he and the newly developed members of his population slowly converted their entire hive. Eventually, the only one left without cognizance was the Queen. She is too frail to climb down The Way, the first ancestor, now called Del-ele-ex, told the hive through the newly discovered group mind. Sadness ran through them, but they all knew it was true. They had barely been able to help the other old members of their group down the steep tunnel. The Queen was far less agile than the worst of them.

  As cycles passed, Del-ele-ex and his mate had children, as did all the o
ther mating pairs. Each egg hatched, producing offspring connected to the group mind without need of the crystal. The species had evolved, or so they thought.

  When the revered Queen passed, her daughter succeeded her, as was the custom. The queen, while not required for procreation of the species, was a vital component in shaping their culture and developing its leadership. They could survive without her, at least for a little while, but morale dropped and the species' faltered. She was a vital binding agent, a benevolent leader shepherding their path and psyche.

  Del-ele-ex was there when the new Queen's daughter was born. The egg hatched and the Queen-to-be was healthy, but she had no connection to the group mind. This was easily solved by taking her to the crystal chamber, but no one understood why she was born without the connection. In later years, Entho-la-ah-mine scientists discovered the male genetic component was needed to pass on the trait. Since queens procreated asexually, they had the increased brain capabilities, but lacked the ability to give their progeny the connection.

  Now, Cazz-ak watched the species’ history through the perspective of the group mind, which slowly evolved into the Great Thought. The hive, now more intelligent and able to communicate efficiently, quickly built several new colonies on Haak-ah-tar. As generations passed, their mental power increased. Science became a beloved field of study. They built starships and ventured to other planets and then to other solar systems. They built underground colonies on worlds that suited them. They studied the universe.

  Their harmonious hive mind prevented major conflict, and lacking wars, they advanced quickly. Soon after the Entho-la-ah-mines developed interstellar travel, they ran across humans. Initially, they were overjoyed. It was great to find other life in the galaxy, and they felt excited to share their culture and scientific discoveries.

  The humans were on the brink of extinction, their planets polluted and overpopulated. The Ashamine seemed a good government, but its citizens weren't united. The Entho-la-ah-mines offered to share some of their resource rich planets and the Ashamine gladly accepted. At first, everything worked quite well, but then the humans started breaking agreements. They encroached on Entho-la-ah-mine settlements and mining areas. The Slaughter of Kii-la-ta revealed humanity’s true nature.