by G Sauvé
I watch, frozen in horror, as the shockwave of death heads toward us.
RUN! yells A’lara. I will my legs to move, but I seem to have lost all control of my body. I stand and watch as the wall of destruction grows closer. It’s not until the structure starts to crack that I realize the precariousness of the situation. If the shockwave doesn’t get us, the collapsing walkway will.
Emerging from my stupor, I turn and run. A’lara flees alongside me, her legs moving surprisingly fast for a being of her small stature. We progress quickly, but the wall of hot air and debris eventually catches us. It lifts us off the ground and propels us through the air.
The world goes askew before vanishing in a cloud of dust and smoke. Now trapped in a hazy mess of shapes and forms, I soar through the air. But the voyage is short and the landing brutal. The ground rushes up to meet me and knocks the air from my lungs. It bites my exposed skin as I skid across it. Agony fills me, yet I barely feel it.
Adrenaline is a beautiful thing. Not only does it dull the pain, but it increases your reflexes. I’m back on my feet within seconds. The world is still blurry, but I progress through it in search of my friend.
“A’lara!” I call out.
There’s no answer.
“A’LARA!” I repeat, this time with more force.
I’m fine, comes her voice. Get to safe ground. I’ll find you.
Relieved, I look around in search of the nearest safe zone. The air is still thick with smoke and flying debris, but I can make out my surroundings with enough clarity to notice the aliens scurrying about like ants fleeing a compromised anthill. Some are cloaked. Others aren’t. A few throw me questioning glances as they rush past, indicating my cloaking device was damaged during the explosion. But being visible is the least of my concerns. I fight the oncoming scourge, all while struggling to determine the best direction to take to reach safe ground. By the time the crowd thins, shrapnel and corpses are all that remain. I stand among them, wondering whether or not I will join them.
I scan my surroundings in search of safety. To my left stands a gaping hole. Its edges are riddled with cracks and fissures. It’s only a matter of time before the entire structure collapses. To my right lies one of the four bridges that lead away from the terrace. It overflows with Kra’lors. Most are fleeing, but a few stay behind to watch the carnage. One of them is A’lara.
Will! she says. This way!
I turn away from the gaping hole. I’m about to take my first step when I hear it.
A low rumbling sound. The shudders that accompany it leave little doubt in my mind as to what’s about to happen.
The platform is collapsing.
Memory 68
I lunge forward just as the ground gives out. I soar through the air for a moment then slam into a solid piece of the terrace. Scrambling to my feet, I race toward the nearby bridge. I do my best to outrun the expanding orifice, but it grows at an exponential rate. I only barely reach the bridge. I look around, but A’lara is nowhere to be found.
Keep going! Her voice echoes throughout my mind, urging me forward. I race across the bridge, praying my tired legs will carry me to the nearby building. I see it up ahead, overflowing with aliens. If I reach it, I will live to see another day. If not… well, I prefer not to think about that.
I sprint forward, lungs ablaze and heart galloping. Every step is a challenge, each inhale a struggle. My muscles scream for relief, but I refuse to give it to them. I race on, only barely managing to stay ahead of the collapsing bridge.
Dust fills the air, making it difficult to see. I observe the world through squinted eyes and try to plot the best course. But the fissuring of the bridge makes planning my advance difficult. I constantly have to readjust just to avoid being swallowed by a newly-formed hole. But I keep going, dodging fissures and leaping over shrapnel. More than once I feel the ground give way beneath me, but I always manage to regain my footing.
I progress quickly, but it’s not enough. The bridge collapses moments after I reach the mid-way point. I lunge forward and soar through the air for a moment before slamming into solid ground. The bridge fragment is angled, and I start to slide. I try to grab on to something but my hands find only air. I keep going until I reach the end. Moments later, gravity grabs hold of me.
I’m falling.
Memory 69
T he air whistles past my ears as I fall. The world is a blur. I’m terrified, yet at the same time, I’ve never been calmer.
I’m going to die, and that’s okay. While scary, the prospect of leaving this world no longer terrifies me. I have no friends, no family to call my own. My only regret is that I won’t get a chance to free the humans before I die. Hopefully, A’lara can complete the mission on her own. Either way, it’s no longer my problem.
I close my eyes and wait for the end, but it never comes. The whistling of the wind ceases. The feeling of freefall fades, giving way to weightlessness.
I open my eyes and look around.
I’m floating, suspended halfway between what little remains of the bridge that once supported me and the city that lies beneath.
“What the…” I begin, but my voice trails off when I focus on the buildings that stand beneath me. The mere sight of them makes my head spin. I close my eyes and wait for the feeling to pass. It takes a while, but I regain full control of my body.
Opening my eyes, I focus on the building where I last saw A’lara. Its summit stands well over a hundred metres away, yet I have no trouble making out the portion of the bridge that protrudes from it. Standing atop it is my friend. She stands erect, arms outstretched and trembling.
“What is she…” I begin, but my voice trails off once again when I realize she’s the one keeping me afloat with her telekinetic ability.
That explains my sudden weightlessness.
Are you injured? asks A’lara.
“NO!” I yell. I can’t tell if she hears me, but I start moving moments after the word flies past my lips. I float toward a nearby building. It’s nowhere near as high as the bridge fragment atop which my friend stands, yet it towers high above the surrounding structures. I grow closer and closer until I’m floating directly above it. Its roof lies far beneath me, but it won’t be long before I reach it. I don’t realize how accurate that statement is until I look up.
I focus on A’lara just as the bridge collapses. She falls but manages to catch herself using her telekinetic ability. But the slower her descent, the faster mine becomes. By the time she has come to a complete standstill, I’m freefalling once more. I barely have time to realize what’s happening before I slam into a hard surface.
The world goes dark, and I slip into a slumber I may never wake from.
Memory 70
I come to in a small room. The good news is I’m still alive. The bad news is I feel as though I was trampled by a herd of wild rokks. My head throbs with such intensity my entire vision blurs with each new beat of my racing heart. My ribs scream in terror every time I inhale. My right arm is numb, though I’m not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing. All I know is I’m trapped.
I struggle to break free, but my restraints are too powerful for my broken body. Waves of pain wash over me at the slightest shift, and I soon find myself avoiding all major movements. Doing my best to remain still, I scan my surroundings.
The room is small. Both the floor and the ceiling are bare, but the walls are alive with chains and shackles. Their primitive nature clashes with the remainder of the décor, but I suspect their presence is more psychological than practical. Nonetheless, escape remains impossible. But I forget all about that when I realize I’m not alone.
A man stands nearby, his arms and legs bound to the wall. His lack of strength is made obvious by his inability to stand straight. He hangs from the chains, his body slumped forward in an unnatural position. His breathing is ragged, but he’s still alive.
“Hey,” I call out. “Can you hear me?”
No response.
I try
again, but the man remains unresponsive.
“Dammit!”
I look around once more but find nothing of use. There are no windows, and the single door remains out of reach. Not that opening it would accomplish much as my shackles are impossible to escape. I will remain trapped here until my captors see it fit to release me.
Now resigned to my fate, I do what I can to ease the strain on my wrist and ankles, and settle in for what may prove to be a very long wait. It takes a few hours, but a pair of Kra’lors eventually enters the room. They are fully visible, and each sport a glove gun. I don’t know what they have planned, but I suspect I won’t like it.
The aliens approach my unconscious companion and unshackle him. I expect him to crumble, but he springs to life as soon as he’s free. He tackles the nearest Kra’lor and lunges for the door, but a well-placed shot from the second alien’s glove gun sends him crashing to the ground. I can’t tell if he’s dead or alive, but I suspect it’s the latter. Why bother locking us up if they plan on killing us?
The Kra’lors grab the unconscious man and drag him out of the room. The door shuts behind them, leaving me alone with my thoughts and worries. I spend the next few minutes trying to escape, but it soon becomes evident such an endeavour is doomed to fail.
My body resigns itself to its fate, but my mind continues its vain struggle. Escape is impossible, but that doesn’t mean the situation is hopeless. Once upon a time, I would have had faith in Jonn and Kara to rescue me, but my survival now lies in the hands of another, far smaller, ally.
A’lara.
I have no idea what happened to her after she dropped me, but I choose to believe she survived. Unfortunately, the odds of her rescuing me are slim. And they grow even thinner when the Kra’lors return. My former cellmate is nowhere to be seen.
“Where is he?” I ask.
The aliens ignore my question. One approaches me and begins removing my shackles while the other keeps his glove weapon aimed at my chest. Once I’m free, they lead me out of the room. I consider trying to escape, but I know it will only make things worse, so I play along and wait for an opening.
My captors lead me along a narrow, dimly-lit corridor. We pass a few doors, but one stands out from the rest. It lies at the far end of the hallway and opens at our approach.
Enter, commands one of my captors as he pushes me. I stumble forward, and by the time I regain my balance, I’m standing in a small room. Twice the size of the one I left behind, it’s devoid of shackles. Gathered around me are five richly-dressed aliens. It’s the first time I see Kra’lors wearing clothes, and this fact alone tells me they are no ordinary aliens.
I don’t notice the odd contraption that stands at the centre of the room until my two jailers try to force me into it. It reminds me of the stone throne Avalon tried to use to extract my powers during my first adventure. Made entirely of metal, the massive chair comes equipped with half a dozen shackles. The sight of it fills me with a sense of unease, but it’s not until I notice the shrivelled corpse leaning against it that I understand what’s about to happen.
The body is so emaciated it looks like an unwrapped mummy, yet I have no trouble identifying it as my former cellmate. The sight of his corpse convinces me to attempt a jailbreak. I lash out at the nearest Kra’lor, but his partner blasts me with his glove gun, and the world fades to black.
I don’t know how long I remain unconscious, but I awake to a sense of helplessness. Five aliens are gathered around me, staring at me with the large, unblinking eyes. I try to stand, but my limbs refuse to obey. I focus on them and discover I have been strapped to the chair I noticed earlier. The corpse that once leaned against it is gone, though that does little to reassure me.
“What’s happening?” I ask. “What do you want from me?”
No one answers. They do, however, start chanting. The ominous, sect-like hymn fills my mind. There are no words. Only sounds. Deep, guttural, animalistic. Terrifying.
I try to escape. Pain rises from my bruised frame, but I ignore it. I keep struggling for a while before accepting the inevitability of my fate.
The chanting continues for a while then fades. One of the Kra’lors steps forward. I recoil, but my shackles keep me from escaping. The alien advances until he stands within reach of me and places a hand to my chest. It’s so delicate I barely feel it, yet a strange warmth ignites the surrounding tissue. I wonder what it means until I sense the rest of my body grow cold. It’s almost as if the alien is controlling me, forcing my energy to gather in my chest.
“What’s happening?” I croak. My limbs are shaking, though I can’t tell whether it’s due to fear or cold.
The Kra’lor ignores me. He presses his palm into my chest until it loses its consistency and slides into my thorax. I watch, wide-eyed, as the fingers explore my insides. I can’t see them, yet I feel every shift, every twitch. I sense the slender digits stroking my heart, exploring my lungs. But they seem uninterested to my anatomy. They keep searching until they find it.
The warmth. It has gathered within my chest, so hot it’s almost painful. But the Kra’lor seems indifferent to the heat. In fact, he appears to enjoy it. Grabbing a portion of it, he yanks it from my body.
Pain explodes from my chest as the energy leaves me. It feels as though part of me has been taken. I stare, weakened, as the Kra’lor plays with the white energy he extracted from my body. I don’t know what it is, but a shiver runs through me when I realize I will never get it back.
“No,” I groan when the alien brings the white glow toward his chest.
He ignores me. Cupping his hands, he slams them into his thorax, forcing the energy into his body. The light spreads throughout his frame. Now glowing softly, the alien steps back and another takes his place.
“Don’t,” I croak as he places a palm to my chest. Ignoring me, the Kra’lor slides his hand into me and extracts a portion of my energy. Chills spread through my body, and I lose all sensation in my extremities. Exhaustion washes over me, making the mere act of remaining conscious a struggle. I don’t know what’s happening, but unless I find a way to fight it, I will meet the same fate as my former cellmate.
“Please,” I beg. “Stop.”
The aliens ignore me and continue extracting my life-force. Before long, I’m so weak I can barely see. The world has been reduced to a dark, blurry mess. My entire body is numb, and I’m so cold I can’t help shivering. My teeth chatter, and tears stream down my cheeks. One more extraction and I will die.
I wait for the end, but it never comes. The fifth and final alien appears before me, but an explosion of light and noise interrupts him before he can extract what little remains of my energy. What follows is a confusing mess of yellow lights and mental screams. I can tell we’re being attacked, but my eyelids feel so heavy I can’t seem to keep them open for more than a few seconds at a time. The confusion persists for a while before the light show fades and the shouts die out.
Nothing happens for a while, then a face appears before me. I can barely make it out, but I can tell it’s an alien. The feminine nature of the visage tells me she’s a female.
“Who are you?” I croak.
We’re friends. The voice echoes throughout my mind, soft and friendly. It’s the last thing I hear before I pass out.
Memory 71
I awake feeling rested and refreshed. The cold that once inhabited me is missing. So is the numbness. Even my injuries are gone.
“What happened?” I ask.
I sit and look around, but my surroundings are unfamiliar. The room is large and perfectly round. The furniture is foreign and, for the most part, perplexing. There’s a tree-looking thing with a thick trunk and flailing tentacles. A floating tube that looks suspiciously like a Chinese dragon undulates through the air, weightless. An abstract painting hangs from the nearby wall. At least, I think it’s an abstract until I realize the colours aren’t blurry; they’re moving. I keep studying my surroundings until I notice them.
K
ra’lors.
They stand all around the room, hidden behind shimmering walls of scales. Only one remains visible, and she sits at the foot of my bed, smiling. The twinkle in her eyes tells me she’s no threat, but recent events keep me from trusting her.
“Where am I?” I ask.
You’re safe, she says. Her voice sounds familiar, though I can’t figure out why.
“What happened?”
You were being consumed.
“Consumed? What does that mean?”
Do you remember the robed Kra’lors?
A chill runs through me at the memory of my near death. I nod.
They were consuming your vital energy. Had we not stopped them when we did, they would have drained you completely, and you would be dead.
I gulp.
“Why would they do that?”
The alien sighs silently.
I assume you know Kra’lors require energy to stay alive. But did you know ‘tals are only one of many sources that can replenish our life-force?
I shake my head.
Ros’tal crystals are potent, but there’s one other source that’s even more powerful. She pauses for dramatic effect. Humans.
I nearly choke.
“Excuse me? Are you saying you eat humans?”
The Kra’lor shakes her head. Not eat. Consume. Human energy is considered a delicacy by many.
Another gulp. I eye the shimmering aliens, worried they will attack me and consume my life-force, but they keep going about their business as though I weren’t even here.
“Is consuming humans legal?” I ask.
Of course not. She sighs. But that doesn’t stop the most powerful among us from using their influence to counteract Edict Seventeen.
