by G Sauvé
“What’s that?”
It’s one of the hundred or so laws that govern our society here on Earth. Edict Seventeen renders the consumption of human energy illegal.
That’s good. Then again, it’s not like the law keeps humans safe. As long as there are officials to bribe and threaten, humans will remain on the menu. But that will all change once I complete my mission. Of course, the odds of that happening are slim, but I refuse to give up just yet. This kind alien and her friends saved me. It thus stands to reason they have my best interest at heart. Still, I refuse to lower my guard until I have proof they are allies.
“Who are you?” I ask.
My name is O’ra. I am the leader of the Human Liberation Group.
The Human Liberation Group? I think. Dammit! I was just beginning to trust her.
“Why did you save me?” I ask.
O’ra seems surprised.
What do you mean? We help humans. It’s what the HLG is all about.
I think back to the events that led to this moment. It all started with that propaganda drone. At first, the message seemed uplifting, but then it turned dark, and the drone exploded. I can still see the death and destruction when I close my eyes. As grateful as I am to O’ra for saving me, I refuse to let her soft voice and kind words lull me into a false sense of security. The HLG’s aim may be noble, but their approach is misguided.
“Where are we?” I ask, hoping to distract my guest before she realizes I know all about their terrorist activity.
This is the HLG headquarters, explains O’ra. It’s where we come up with strategies to spread our message.
More like ‘strategies to spread death,’ I think.
“What happened to me?” I ask, hoping to extract as much information as possible from my supposed saviours. “Where are my injuries?”
O’ra smiles.
We healed you. You were nearly dead when we found you.
“How did you find me?”
O’ra falters.
We received a message telling us there were humans in danger. There was an address and a time.
“Do you know who sent it?” I ask. I suspect Avalon is somehow involved, but I have no way of knowing for sure.
O’ra shakes her head.
The note was anonymous. I believe it came from one of our many supporters.
“Supporters?” I can’t help being surprised. Given what I’ve seen, I wouldn’t be surprised if the Kra’lors were marching the streets, calling for their deaths at this very moment.
Yes, says O’ra. We have fought for human rights for many years, and there are many among the Kra’lor population who support our cause. But there are also those who think they are above the law, those who think of humans as nothing more than cattle. Soon, they will be punished for the atrocities they have committed.
“Punished how?” I can’t help asking. “Will you blow them up?”
O’ra frowns.
What do you mean? Why would we—
“I saw what you did,” I interrupt. “I was there when your bomb went off. In fact, I nearly died.”
What are you talking about? What bo…
Her voice trails off, and her eyes grow wide.
Oh. That bomb.
I nod. I should probably be worried—after all, I just accused my saviours of killing innocents—but I’m not. The HLG is using the humans as an excuse to justify acts of terrorism.
“Yeah,” I say. “That bomb.”
Neither of us speaks for a while.
We’re not responsible for what happened, finally says O’ra. We’re pacifists.
That seems oddly convenient.
“What about the Kra’lors who tried to consume me?” I ask. “You shot them. I saw you.” The truth is I only remember a few fragments of my rescue, but O’ra doesn’t need to know that.
It’s true, she admits. We shot them, but we didn’t kill them. We merely knocked them out.
It seems unlikely, but it’s possible.
“Fine,” I say. “Let’s pretend I believe you. Who detonated the bomb?”
O’ra sighs.
We have many enemies. The aliens who consume humans. The employees who are also part owners of the Ros’tal Corporation. Even our leader refuses to admit our treatment of the humans is wrong. Any of them could have created the bomb.
“Why would they do that?”
To discredit us. If people think we’re terrorists, they will cease to support us, and our entire endeavour will collapse. If it does, the humans will forever remain enslaved.
I take a moment to consider O’ra’s claim. While I have no way of knowing whether or not she’s telling the truth, I’m inclined to believe her. If she truly were evil, she wouldn’t have saved me. The mere fact that I’m alive proves she and her companions are, in fact, trying to help the humans. But what of all my other unanswered questions?
“Dozens of Kra’lors died in the explosion,” I point out. “Why would they do that if their aim was to keep the humans enslaved?”
All they care about is power. They will do whatever it takes to maintain control, even if that means killing innocents.
It makes sense, yet I can’t help thinking of A’lara. She believed the lies, she thought the members of the HLG were terrorists, when they were, in fact, the good guys. Thinking of my friend reminds me of the direness of the situation. O’ra and her friends are doing everything in their power to help the humans, but their approach is doomed to fail. A’lara and I are the only ones who can free the humans. But first, I must find my friend.
The last time I saw A’lara she was falling. She managed to halt her descent, but she lost control and dropped me. Did she plummet alongside me? Is she alive? Even if she is, how am I supposed to find her? The city is huge, and I don’t even know where to look. I could wander around for weeks and never find her. Unless…
“That’s it,” I gasp.
I know where A’lara is.
Assuming she survived, she would have gone looking for me. Failing to locate my body, she would have assumed I was dead and proceeded with the mission. If I can locate the teleportation dais she spoke of, I can find her. But I can’t do it alone.
“I need your help.”
I consider telling O’ra about our plan, but there’s still a chance she’s a terrorist, so I choose to tell her only the bare minimum.
“My friend and I are on a special mission,” I explain. “If we succeed, human slavery will come to an end. If we fail… well, I don’t even want to think of what will happen.”
O’ra cocks her head.
“I got separated from my friend,” I continue. “We’re supposed to meet at the teleportation dais, but I don’t know where it is. Can you help me?”
O’ra takes a moment to process what I just told her.
Are you sure your plan will work?
I hesitate.
“No,” I admit, “but I honestly believe it’s the best shot we have at freeing the humans.”
O’ra smiles.
In that case, I will help you.
I breathe a sigh of relief—the first one in a while.
“Can you tell me how to reach the teleportation dais?”
No, says O’ra, but I can show you.
I have a better chance of reaching my destination with a guide, but I’m still unsure whether or not I should trust the HLG.
“That’s not necessary,” I say. “Just tell me how to get there, and I’ll be on my way.”
I stand to indicate my eagerness to depart. O’ra leaps to her feet, stiff as a board.
This city is no place for a human, she says. You will never reach your destination without a guide.
I remember A’lara mentioning something about humans not being allowed at the centre of the Earth, but O’ra’s eagerness to inject herself into my life seems suspicious. Unfortunately, I don’t have a choice.
“All right,” I say. “You can come, but we part ways once we reach the teleportation dais.”
&
nbsp; O’ra nods. She makes her way around the room and addresses each of the dozen or so shimmering aliens that inhabit it. I can’t tell what they’re saying, but I suspect I’m the major topic of conversation. Now more than ever, I wonder if I made a mistake in trusting O’ra. I’m debating whether or not I should make a run for it when the door bursts open in an explosion of yellow energy and shrapnel.
Memory 72
T he blast of hot air and rubble slams into me and knocks me off my feet. I sail through the air, slam into a wall, and crumble into a heap atop the bed. The mattress breaks my fall, but it keeps me elevated, which means I’m now in the line of fire. Blasts of yellow energy erupt from the charred doorway and slam into the wall behind me. I can’t quite make out the exact provenance of the shots, but that’s the least of my concerns. I dive off the bed just as a blast of ‘tal energy lights up the mattress.
Now safe, I take a moment to wrap my head around what just happened. The door blew open and spheres of yellow light came flying through the opening. This means the attackers are Kra’lors. The fact that I was unable to see them indicates they’re shimmering. But why are they attacking us? And why aren’t the HLG members firing back? It makes no sense. Unless…
They’re pacifists.
They duck for cover, shimmering to make themselves harder to find, but not a single one fires back. Then again, it’s possible none of them are armed. All I know is—
One of the Kra’lors gets shot. He collapses, his once vibrating scales now immobile. I stare at his dead body, stunned by the violence of the act. But even more shocking is the fact that he’s wearing a glove gun. Why didn’t he use it? People do crazy things in the name of righteousness, but is this cause worth dying for?
The answer comes in the form of a dozen blasts of yellow energy erupting almost simultaneously from all around the room. They light up the doorway and cause it to vanish in a blinding blast of brilliance. The attacking Kra’lors retreat, but their withdrawal is only temporary. They retaliate with force, pouring into the room and blasting the HLG members. They defend themselves as best as they can, but it’s a losing battle. Within moments, two more of O’ra’s friends are dead.
Enough! she yells. Her voice invades my mind and causes me to wince.
The violence stops almost immediately. Moments later, the remaining HLG members appear and raise their arms in surrender, all eighteen of them. Only O’ra is missing. For a brief moment I think she managed to escape, but then I spot a shimmer moving toward the mass of shimmering air that stands by the doorway.
“Watch out!” I yell just as she makes her move. I still have no idea whether or not she’s a terrorist, but there has been enough killing for one day. The shimmer that is O’ra gets blasted with a sphere of yellow light and crumbles. She appears moments later, bloodied and unmoving. I can’t tell whether she’s dead or alive, but it doesn’t matter. The battle is over, and the bloodshed has come to an end.
I watch, half-hidden, as the attacking aliens grab the HLG members and escort them out of the room. The last one to go is O’ra. She’s unceremoniously dragged across the floor. I fear she’s dead, but she moves just as she vanishes from sight. I can’t tell how bad her injuries are, but I choose to believe she will survive. She may be a terrorist, but that doesn’t mean she deserves to die.
Speaking of death, only the three deceased HLG members remain. Every other alien is gone. I don’t know why they chose not to detain me, but I don’t plan on sticking around to find out. Leaping to my feet, I approach the nearest fallen Kra’lor. His body is twisted in an unnatural position, and his corpse is still smoking, but that’s of no consequence. I reach for his right hand and carefully remove the glove gun. I don’t know whether or not I’ll need it, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.
Putting it on now could be interpreted as a sign of hostility, so I place it in my rear pocket and scan the room in search of an escape route. Unfortunately, the smoking doorway through which the HLG members were escorted remains the room’s only exit. Sneaking past the attacking aliens unnoticed will be impossible, but if I’m lucky, they will ignore me like they did during the firefight. If not, I can put on the glove gun and blast my way out.
I head toward the exit but only make it a short distance before an alien enters the room. Hidden behind a layer of shimmering scales, the Kra’lor remains impossible to identify.
“Who are you?” I ask.
A friend, says a voice. It sounds familiar, but I don’t recognize it until the alien reveals itself.
It’s A’lara.
Memory 73
A ’lara?” I ask. “What are you doing here?”
My friend chuckles silently.
I will explain everything, but we must go before the Kra’lor soldiers decide you’re a threat.
She’s right.
“How do we get out?”
Follow me. She turns and walks out the main door. I hesitate for a moment before following.
“Are you sure it’s safe?” I ask. We have emerged from the small dwelling and are now progressing through a quarantined area. Holographic barriers surround the residence and keep the crowd that has gathered from getting too close. Within the secluded area, Kra’lor soldiers are restraining the captured HLG members and keeping them subdued.
I receive curious glances from both the soldiers and the prisoners, but not a single one of them tries to intercept me. We leave the quarantined zone and push through the crowd.
“What happened?” I ask once we’re at a safe distance.
It’s a long story, says A’lara. What is the last thing you remember?
“I was falling, and you caught me, but then the bridge collapsed, and you fell. That’s the last thing I remember before I hit something and passed out. After that, things are kind of blurry. I remember Kra’lors trying to consume me, but that could have been a dream.”
It wasn’t.
So much for that theory.
“What happened?” I ask.
I managed to halt my fall, but I inadvertently dropped you in the process. I tried finding you, but you were already gone.
“Gone?”
A’lara nods. I asked around and learned you had been taken by Kra’lors. I kept investigating and eventually located the house where you were being kept. By then, you were already gone.
“How did you find me?”
The Kra’lors who kidnapped you were all dead except for one. He told me what happened, explained how the Human Liberation Group shot them in cold blood and left them for dead.
“What? That’s impossible.”
O’ra may have been slightly overzealous, but there’s no way she would have condoned murder, especially not that of her own kind. Then again, she did try to murder that soldier. Not to mention the fact that she and her people may well be terrorists. Still, the thought of O’ra committing murder doesn’t sit well with me.
The members of the HLG are expert manipulators. They are obsessed with their cause and will stop at nothing to achieve their goals. You saw what they did up on that bridge.
She’s right. I may not want to believe it, but O’ra and her friends are terrorists, and we’re all better off now that they’re out of commission.
“How did you find me?” I ask.
The HLG once tried to recruit me. Back then, I was eager to join, but they refused to let me in because I wasn’t willing to kill for the cause. I thought it was just a figure of speech. She bows her head. I had no idea they would one day use a bomb to get their message across.
“I don’t understand,” I admit. “How did you find me?”
They took me to their headquarters when they tried to recruit me. When I realized what happened to you, I alerted the authorities and led them to their home base. The rest you know.
We walk in silence for a while before something starts bugging me.
“If you knew where they were, why didn’t you do something before?”
A’lara sighs.
I never ag
reed with their methods, but I allowed myself to believe they were, in their own way, trying to do what was right. It wasn’t until they detonated the bomb that I realized I was wrong.
She falls silent.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply—”
It’s fine. Had I not waited so long, none of this would have happened.
We progress in silence for a while. Though I can’t see them, I feel the Kra’lors staring at me.
“Is it safe?” I ask.
You should be fine as long as you stay near me.
I was hoping for more, but it will have to do. We keep going until we reach a secluded area. Devoid of buildings, the clearing is filled with hundreds of stone pillars. Each is as massive as my entire frame and stands at twice my height. They are packed so tightly I can’t see past the first few rows.
“What is this place?” I ask.
Follow me, says A’lara. She leads me into the field of pillars. Deeper and deeper we travel until we reach the far side of the stone forest. Or so I think until I realize the open space before us is, in fact, a clearing. It lies deep within the field of columns. At its centre stands a small circular platform.
The teleportation dais.
The good news is we reached our destination. The bad news is it’s guarded by a giant robot.
Memory 74
T he hope that once inhabited me is gone. All that now remains is despair. I stare at the teleportation dais, fully aware that I will never get to set foot on it. My gaze lingers for a moment before travelling to the massive automaton that guards it.
The robot is similar to sentinels, but there are a few minor differences that make it a far deadlier adversary. Not only does its brutish head stand more than three metres off the ground, but its frame is far bulkier, and thus more resistant. But most impressive of all is the blast cannon that stands where the metallic being’s right hand should be. Its massive barrel glows yellow, indicating it’s ready to fire at a moment’s notice. The sheer intensity of the radiance puts the robot’s glowing chest to shame.
“What is that?” I ask, my gaze still on the robot.
