Aliens from Arapholanx: The Burn of Magic

by Adam Sipperly

  “Who is Patrick?” the voice of the Rojozic rang through everyone’s mind.

  Both Xavo and Roger stopped what they were doing as they tried to find the source of the voice.

  “Our weapon! We leave or you see.”

  “This is why we speak only to you.” The Rojozic yet again focused on communicating solely with Gin-us, blocking Gneiss and the others.

  “He is our leader. And I do believe he is the one sending those flames.”

  “Gin-us burn you too! Gneiss could not keep his mouth shut.

  “You have this power of fire?”

  “Yes.”

  “Show us.”

  “Please, do not make me use it.”

  “Why?”

  “Study a man’s journey to understand who he has become.”

  The Rojozic slowly spiraled up Gin-us' left leg, then his torso, and stopped at the base of his neck.

  “We want to understand.”

  “Go ahead.” Gin-us closed his eyes, understanding what was about to happen.

  The Rojozic advanced again, crawling up both sides of his face. The red liquid stopped just beneath his temples. There was a small sting as they invaded his mind. He then saw the events of his life flash before his eyes. He saw memories of life as a prince, relived happy mornings with his sister, and saw the small shack they had shared in a remote village. He saw himself dancing with Purt back on Earth and late-night conversations with Dr. Jont. But the Rojozic did not stop there. Gin-us also saw his father die in his arms, he relived his time-fighting in the pits, and then he saw the rage and destruction that destroyed his life and took everything from him. The Rojozic pulled back then before the memories could play any longer.

  “We are sorry.”

  “So am I.” Gin-us blinked away his tears.

  “You are free to go, Gin-us. Save your Patrick, and know that we are not enemies. We only ask one favor.”

  “Anything.”

  “The fire brings a danger you know all too well. When you have found balance with the danger in its opposite, return to us.” The Rojozic then deposited Gin-us and Gneiss on the ground next to Xavo and Roger. “Only then will we join you.

  ◆◆◆

  “You got them all!” Chowsin was screaming behind Patrick who was so focused on the fire he didn’t hear him. “Patrick, you need to stop!”

  Chowsin stepped closer, the heat radiating off of Patrick curling the loose fibers of his robe.

  “Dad, no!” A younger Yakopiz came running across the roof.

  Chowsin was shoved aside as his son tackled Patrick. Patrick’s concentration slipped as he fell to the ground in a puddle of kuat. His flames landed first and the ground around him jumped to life. Chowsin’s son was engulfed in a matter of seconds and there was nothing anybody could do to save him.

  Patrick tried to pull the flames back but the kuat made this difficult. Chowsin jumped into action and started to smother the flames with his robe. Together they had the fire out in less than a minute.

  Chowsin was badly burned on both of his arms and his chest. His son was lying on the ground, writhing in pain.

  “Chowsin,” Patrick chewed the inside of his cheek as he tried to find the right words.

  “Please, don’t.” Chowsin draped the remains of his cloak over his son. “I know this was not your fault. I’ll make sure he gets the care he needs. You have more urgent matters to attend to.” He reached into his pant pocket and pulled out a small device. “Here is a holographic map of the compound, our fastest vehicles will be here.”

  He shook the small device and a map lit up the space between them. Chowsin pointed out a building a few blocks over.

  “Chowsin, I’m sorry about your son. I truly am.”

  “You can’t keep everyone safe, Patrick.”

  “No, but we can try. Together, we will lead your people to heights you never thought possible. And we do it all in his name.”

  “Your words are a comfort to me, Patrick. Thank you for that.” He smiled weakly at Patrick, refusing to take his hands off of his son. “Go. Time is precious and you have a lot to do.”

  Without another word, Patrick left Chowsin on the roof, guilt in his chest and map in his hand. The map was straightforward and Patrick made it to where the vehicles were stored in no time.

  It was a massive hanger. There were hundreds of jetpacks hanging along the wall by the entryway. Laid out in rows throughout the rest of the hanger were ships that increased in size the deeper you went. From single rider ships up to ones large enough to carry an entire unit. The Yakopiz seemed to have everything.

  Patrick jumped into the nearest single rider ship, shocked to find dozens of knobs, buttons, and switches thrown haphazardly across the dashboard. Well, this isn’t going to work. He jumped back from the ship and began running through the hanger, stealing quick glances inside open ships in the hopes of finding something simple and straightforward.

  “Patrick?” A small voice behind him caused Patrick to jump and smack his head on the roof of a ship he had been looking in.

  “Yes?” He stepped back and rubbed the welt that was already starting to form on the back of his head.

  “The Chancellor sent me to find you. He realized after sending you on your way, that you may not know how to fly our ships.”

  “Where were you ten minutes ago?” His voice was sharp.

  “I apologize.” The Yakopiz shrunk into herself. “If you are ready now, I can show you.”

  “Please.” Patrick calmed himself as he realized the Yakopiz before him couldn’t be older than ten. “Lead the way.”

  “Normally, we’d have our pilots train for many sestos before using the Implanter. But the Chancellor has waived the requirement for you.”

  “Implanter?”

  “Yes, right over here.”

  They rounded a corner at the end of an aisle of large ships. Sitting in a large open space was something that resembled a dentist chair.

  “This device will allow us to download any program to your mind, instantly. Today, we’ll be downloading flight lessons.”

  “Download to my mind? What’s the point of training for hours then?”

  “Not hours, sestos.” The Yakopiz said it matter-of-factly before registering the confusion on Patrick’s face. “Sestos, like how old you are?” Patrick’s face remained blank. “It’s a really long time.”

  “Why all of this training just to have a computer download a program?”

  “It’s not a foolproof system. The sestos of training is more of a backup, a built-in muscle memory that can take over if the program fails mid-flight.”

  “Fails mid-flight?”

  “I’ve only ever heard one story of it happening. And that was a very long time ago. I have total confidence in our system.” The Yakopiz waved to the chair. “If you wouldn’t mind sitting, I understand you’re on a time-sensitive mission.”

  “That I am.” Patrick was jumpy as he climbed into the chair.

  “This may sting for just a second.”

  Before he had a chance to respond, Patrick felt a probe enter the back of his skull. He wanted to scream out in pain but found that he was no longer in control of his own mind or body. His brain was on fire as he felt information get pumped into it, pages of manuals on how to fly flying across his vision by the second.

  “And, that’s it!” The Yakopiz flipped a switch and the probe retreated.

  The room slowly came back into focus as Patrick carefully made his way off the chair.

  “Drink this.” She handed Patrick a cup full of green liquid and he took it readily.

  “Thank you.”

  “All in a day’s work. Now, are you ready to fly?”

  Patrick nodded as the room came into focus around him and his eyes settled on the single rider ships at the far side of the room. Patrick took off and jumped into one of the ships. The dashboard was no longer a mystery to him. He flipped a switch at the top and the door closed behind him. He pushed a button on the ri
ght of the console, then flipped two switches that had lit up, and the engine roared to life. Three more switches and a seatbelt restrained him. A holographic steering wheel materialized and he was off. Patrick flew the ship away from the rolling city as fast as he could, racing towards his friends and praying he wasn’t too late.

  He flew for several hours with no sight of his army. He was shocked when he made it to the cave they had been hiding in, only to find it had filled with water. Whatever magic had been used to reveal life, had also changed the topography of the planet. He had spent well over an hour diving down to see if he could find the ships to no avail.

  After careful consideration, he realized Jane and Chelydra must have returned after the water had been revealed. Given that their ships were not sitting on the edge of the water, he knew his army must have taken off and was now hiding somewhere else.

  With no idea where they may have ended up, Patrick jumped back on his ship and sped back to the compound as quickly as he could.

  ◆◆◆

  Chowsin was waiting for Patrick when he returned to the hangars. He rushed to Patrick’s ship as he landed, not even waiting for the engines to die out.

  “Have you found your soldiers? The Plutonian forces have advanced to our position!”

  “I couldn’t find them, they appear to have left the area. Although I can’t say I blame them, looks like we may have parked ourselves right in the middle of a vast ocean.”

  “And they all drowned?” Chowsin grabbed Patrick by the collar and pulled him close. “We need all the soldiers we can get for this battle!”

  “No.” Patrick grasped Chowsin’s wrists firmly and yanked himself free. “They did not drown. The ship was no longer there, so they fled somewhere safer. We need to find them.”

  “I wish I could grant you more time to search for them, but we need your help here now!”

  “And I need to find my people now!”

  “I have already seen to that for you. We have scouts scouring the planet in every direction. They have been given strict instruction not to return until they have looked over every square inch of the planet.”

  “And have any reported back yet?”

  “We have to wait for their return. Our communication devices only reach so far.”

  “With all the incredible technology you have here, all you have to communicate is short-range devices?”

  “Up until today, we’ve never ventured far enough from our city to need them. Perhaps someday you can share with us your technology.”

  “Maybe someday. I’d certainly like to get my hands on some of the things I’ve seen around here.” His eyes went over Chowsin’s shoulder to the Implanter sitting in the corner.

  “A conversation for another day! Right now,” Chowsin placed a hand on Patrick’s shoulder and began to lead him out of the hangar, “we need to discuss a strategy to win this upcoming battle.”

  “How many soldiers do you have?”

  “We have thousands of soldiers!” He smiled widely down at Patrick. “And they’re yours to command!”

  “Two thousand, fifty thousand, what are we talking about here?” Patrick remained cautiously optimistic.

  “Twenty thousand easy, broken into four divisions. The survival and rescue division has just over two thousand enlisted. We have roughly a hundred already out looking for your people.”

  “I don’t see them being very useful in the fight to come. What are the other divisions?”

  “The Peace Squad is five thousand strong. They are responsible for local law enforcement. The third would be the Ground Force. Eleven thousand soldiers trained in hand to hand combat as well as all the weapons we possess. Finally, our Air Force has two thousand trained to fly aircraft and drive tanks.”

  “The Ground Force and the Peace Squad, if the pilots can get them onto the ships, will they be prepared to fight?”

  “The Peace Squad is trained in very minimalistic ways. Some forms of hand to hand combat and basic weaponry. I do not see them being a great help in the battle. I would suggest we position them throughout the city, as a backup.” He quickly added, “just in case!”

  “It’s a good idea. So, that will leave me with eleven thousand soldiers and two thousand pilots.”

  “I would like to keep a small group, perhaps one unit of five hundred soldiers from the Ground Force here as well. The Peace Squad wasn’t made for this type of activity, and they’ll need leadership.”

  “We can do that. Ships? I saw some large ones in the hangar, what’s the most you can pack into one?”

  “With ten thousand five hundred soldiers, you could probably take the tankers. Each one holds five hundred soldiers but will need a crew of five pilots.”

  “Okay, so that leaves us with,” he did some quick math in his head, “about nineteen hundred pilots left. We should leave some down here with the tanks as well, guard the perimeter of the city?”

  “Yes, please. Five hundred should suffice in covering the perimeter, leaving you with fourteen hundred. I would suggest the Multicraft. It allows each pilot to simultaneously fly three smaller ships.”

  “Giving us just around four thousand ships. Chowsin,” Patrick stopped in the hallway and Chowsin turned to face him, “you realize there may be a great loss of life here, yes?”

  “Some of my men may fall, but they know what is at risk and each of them is willing to fight to avoid the alternative. They do not wish to see their families fall to the rule of an outsider. Our numbers may be small, but we are resilient.”

  “You’re doing the right thing.”

  “I know we are. Please, in here.” Chowsin ushered Patrick into a small room.

  The room was dimly lit with a single light that hung over a rusty desk in the corner. Surrounding the desk was heavy metal wired fencing. There was a single Yakopiz sitting at the desk, his face tired and battle-worn. He looked up to Patrick and Chowsin as they entered, and stood quickly, sending his chair falling backward. He placed a fist over his chest.

  “Chancellor!” The Yakopiz had an oddly high pitched voice for such a gruff appearance.

  “At ease Armish. Patrick needs access to the vaults. I’d like for you to outfit him with his own propulsion unit.”

  “I’m sure we can find something for the freak.” His upper lip curled and his left eyebrow rose as he gave Patrick a once over.

  Chowsin nodded, ignoring the clear disdain Armish had for Patrick. “Patrick, I must leave you now but we will meet again in the mess hall shortly. I have a few things to arrange before the battle commences.”

  Patrick nodded and Chowsin took his leave. Armish waited until Chowsin had left and then started to rummage around in his desk, finally procuring a key to the cage.

  “Come on in,” he said to Patrick as he pulled the door open.

  Patrick stepped in and followed Armish to another gate at the back of the cage.

  “You a righty or a lefty?”

  “Me? I’m a righty.”

  “Who else would I be talking to?” He held his hands up and looked around the empty cage.

  “If you’re a righty, we best go for Model 75M-9OX. That one comes with an attachment for the right hand to control a small ship that flies with you. Unless you want to keep it basic, we can get you a 38S-I90. You’ll need both hands to control it, but it’s more stable for beginners and comes with a breathing apparatus. Of course, if you think you’ll be getting more up close and personal and you're not worried about breathing up there,” he pointed over his head, “we’ve got the 91I-W45 model. That one gives you freedom of flight but leaves both hands free to carry a weapon. The choice is yours.”

  Patrick just stared at Armish, not really sure what to make of anything he had just said. “Clocks ticking kid,” Armish said through clenched teeth.

  “Right.” Patrick snapped out if and quickly ran over his options in his head. “I think the 91I-W45 model is the best choice.”

  “You realize this thing isn’t fast enough to get you on the
ir ship before your lungs explode?”

  “I’m not worried about that.” Patrick touched the scar behind his ear. “I should have no problem breathing up there.”

  “If you’re sure, let’s get you fitted up then. Wait here, I’ll go find one.”

  Armish exited through the door at the back of the cage, leaving Patrick alone. After a few moments had passed, his curiosity got the best of him and he walked into the room. It was nothing like he had expected. Given the secrecy, he was expecting a beautiful lab, with bright lights, white tables, and hundreds of engineers running around. Instead, he found a scrapyard with junk piled high, no real organization.