by Reg Franklin
One of the other Prelt answered, its accent quite mild compared to Zath’s. +You are a man of science?+
“Yes, I am Doctor Johnathon West.”
+I am known as Tla-mi-Nga.+ The Prelt made the three-fingered gesture, which West emulated back. The alien's eyes glowed brighter for a fraction of a second. +I also am a seeker of knowledge. Perhaps we may compare knowleges?+
“I’m sure we can arrange something.” Chris agreed.
“You also didn't answer his question.” Young snapped, growing impatient.
Tla-mi-Nga turned to the Councilman. +You are correct, and I apologize. It was impolite of me not to answer. Yes, we are fed through light emissions. They are necessary for our existence.+
The Prelt sat awkwardly on the chairs provided. It would have been humorous except for the aliens’ quiet dignity.
+So, we shall speak plainly then.+ Zath announced. +As I hope you will as well. As such I will ask a single question of you, on this small world below us, did you encounter pale creatures? Many legs?+
Chris nodded. “One of my people was killed by them. Another lies dying from their blood. You know them?”
All three Prelt hung their heads and linked three fingers together on each hand. +They are our creation.+
“You made those things?!” Kelly roared, jumping to his feet. “Your unleashing of them on us constitutes an act of war!”
“Sit down, Mr. Young.” Jennifer sighed. “Look at them. They're ashamed.”
All three Prelt had recoiled at the venom of Young’s words. They held out their linked fingers. +We beg forgiveness!+ Zath pleaded. +Please! Hear our tale, and judge us as you will then.+
“Councilman. Let's at least hear them out first.” Chris offered in a conciliatory tone.
Young continued to glare, but did sit.
With that, they began a story almost verbatim to that told in a holding cell on Numenor.
12.
+Many generations ago, our race thrived in this region.+ Tla-mi-Nga began the story. +We Prelt were vain, and played with the building blocks of existence. The cells of life itself.+
+About fifteen generations ago, we first encountered another race. They called themselves Salk’art. We called them something else. Cs’al-Vir: Tyrants. They sought to bring all under their control. We resisted as we could. We are not weapon crafters. But we resisted as best we could.+
Zath picked up the tale. +Early in the conflict, one of our great scientists, Qrd-ex-Dra, discovered a new species on the edge of the galaxy. Or, rather, the last survivor of that species. As far as Qrd-ex-Dra could determine, the survivor had originally been cast aside by her tribe for deformities of her face. In response, she struck from shadows and killed her tribe with brute strength and cunning. Then the rest of her kind. They were not numerous. He wondered if that murderous instinct could be genetically passed along.+
+He captured the female, calling her Lva-ne-Brn. And began the gene therapy upon her. He felt that were they able to cling to all surfaces, that would give a great advantage over the Salk’art. That if even in death they could kill their enemies, what victories could be achieved!+
+He called his new race the Vandleifdulus. The Pale Soldiers.+
“So you defeated these Salkarts?” Chris asked.
+Salk’art.+ Zath corrected. +And no. Although they have left this region of space, we had nothing to do with that.+ The oranges eyes dimmed slightly.
+What Qrd-ex-Dra did not suspect was that the tampering he performed on Lva-ne-Brn’s genes awoke something inside her. An ability to touch the minds of her unborn young.+
+It is believed among the Prelt that she taught her young to hate all life. That Qrd-ex-Dra’s experiments left her quite insane. That is not to say that Qrd-ex-Dra did not implement certain safeguards in his new creations. He was able to, through means unknown, encode a desire within the Vandleifdulus to destroy themselves upon the destruction of their enemies.+
The third, red-skinned, Prelt now spoke. +Finally, Qrd-ex-Dra was ready. At a relatively minor conflict, he released the Vandleifdulus.+
“How bad was it?” Jennifer asked, wincing.
The unnamed Prelt’s eyes dimmed. +The rout was total. Every Salk’art present was slaughtered utterly. And then Lva-ne-Brn saw her chance. Through her mind touch, she demanded her children free her. This rout was...almost complete. For reasons we find elusive, she merely took Qrd-ex-Dra prisoner. She now called herself Lavnabren, the Void Queen, in the language she formed based on our own tongue.+
“A three-way conflict. Terrible.” Chris shook his head.
+More terrible than you may think.+ Zath now. +Shortly after this, the Salk’art withdrew from this region. We didn't defeat them, nor did the Vandleifdulus. They simply...left. As if their goal was actually the creation of these abominations. They have not been seen since. So the Lavnabren turned her tender ministrations fully to us.+
+Less than half a generation ago, she succeeded in destroying our home world, but it cost her dearly. There were only a few thousands of her childer left to her. In addition, Qrd-ex-Dra was rescued. However, his mind was twisted by his years of confinement and torture. He had been the one to tell Lavnabren how to penetrate our world’s defenses, and had become a willing accomplice to genocide.+
+The knowledge of what to do with Qrd-ex-Dra escaped us. All we could consider was exile. He fled back to Lavnabren, at her new home. There she has been, lapping at her wounds, and repopulating her children. Until she was ready to continue her calling. When we released him, Qrd-ex-Dra stated that like his daughter, for that is how he saw Lavnabren, he would take a new name. Quordex.+
The unnamed third Prelt’s eyes glowed hotter. +I am called Hst-ur-Dra. Quordex is of my kin bloodline. He is a shame that can never be erased.+
Zath reached out a calming hand. +They are returning now. Billions strong, Lavnabren and Quordex have unleashed their forces. Scouts have been located and destroyed as quickly as possible. But it is a stalling tactic only. They will be upon you soon. And I am sorry that our attempt to save ourselves now threatens you all.+ Zath made the gesture with his linked fingers again. +What we allowed Quordex to do, it is unforgivable. We plead merely for understanding and allies, for we must undo his folly before the entirety of the universe burns under it.+
13.
The humans and Alphite sat quietly following the aliens’ story. Finally, Jennifer stared at Zath. “You said all our questions would be answered. Yet, here we are, and you haven't explained why you were so desperate to have me here.”
It was Hst-ur-Dra who answered. +You are correct. Why were you so insistent she join us, Tzth-to-Urdo?+
Wait. Jennifer’s mind whirled. The others weren't even aware?? What is going on here?
+Forgive me, all of you.+ Zath beseeched. +I shall explain. My reasons for including you are...complex. First, I had hoped that you were an emissary of the near-humans, and could help bring them into an alliance. I did not know that you are an exile. Our sensors are delicate enough to detect a non-human lifesign, that is how I knew of your presence.+
Zath made a wheezing sound, possibly a sigh. +In addition, our agents last reported Quordex in the vicinity of the near-human planet. He must be recaptured or sadly, eliminated. Finally, your people may be our best chance at destroying the Vandleifdulus.+
“They are not-” Jennifer began to snap, then realized the implication, as did Chris.
“Let me guess, the Vandleafdulocs react really poorly to psionic probes?” He guessed.
+Vandleifdulus.+ Zath corrected. +And yes. Recently we uncovered some of Quordex’s notes, which revealed a frequency that a transmission upon would essentially shut down all Vandleifdulus in the immediate area. He meant it as a safeguard against betrayal...why he did not use it when they turned upon him is a great mystery.+ The Prelt shifted, his race’s equivalent of a shrug. +Quordex did not believe that the frequency existed naturally, but near-human brain waves travel upon it.+
Jennifer went bone pale. “So, I’
m a weapon then? You want to use me to genocide your weapons?”
Zath held up his hands. +No. We wish to study the method upon which you transmit. Yes, it is to be used as a weapon, but a limited one.+
+There are trillions of them now.+ spoke Tla-mi-Nga. +There is no way known to generate a signal that great. But in the interim, your abilities may be the humans’ greatest defense.+
Jennifer took a deep breath. “Ok. Fine. Last line of defence, though. I refuse to be used on a massive scale.”
+Acceptable. However,+ Hst-ur-Dra sniffed. +what if you were needed to remove Lavnabren?+
Jennifer stood. “We have a saying where I’m from. ‘We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it.’ If I am truly needed to end the threat this Quordex created, then I will face her. But, let's see what happens first.”
“Okay.” Chris nodded. “Zath, one of my people is on the verge of death from contact with Varndleefdurok blood.”
+Vandleifdulus.+ Zath corrected.
“Right. Can you help?”
Tla-mi-Nga stood. +It would be my honour to work with Dct-er-Wst.+
Chris took a minute to decode the Prelt pronunciation of West’s name. “Zath, we must return to Earth and warn our government of the Vandleefdu-” He caught himself. “Look, can we just call them Vandles? I'm never going to pronounce that correctly.”
The three Prelt looked at him with what Chris suspected was amusement in their glowing eyes. +If that is something you find easier, certainly.+
“As the ranking member of Earth’s government on board, Zath, I would like to invite you on board my vessel for the trip to our world. The Admiral here will need to communicate with our outposts, warn them of the coming threat.” He turned to West. “Doctor, I will need one of the Vandle bodies for further analysis on Earth. A sample of that blood of theirs too.”
West nodded. “All my notes are at your disposal, Councilman.”
Hst-ur-Dra stood. +So this conclave is concluded, Tzth-to-Urdo?+
Zath nodded. +You shall gather our habitat vessels at the agreed upon location and await transmission.+
+Ad-mr-ell, I request escort back to our shuttle so I may return to our habitat vessel.+
Chris nodded, signalling a guard. “Return Mr. Dra to docking bay three, ensign.”
The orange eyes fell upon him. +Hst-ur-Dra, this m’str designation you append to me does not apply. If you feel you must contract my name for simplicity, then Aster will suffice.+
Chris stood. “I apologize, Aster. I did not mean to offend.”
The Prelt merely looked at him, and glided from the room, his assigned ensign trailing him.
+I apologize for Hst-ur-Dra,+ Zath made what Chris was beginning to think of as the symbol of contrition. +Quordex was a highly respected and admired member of his kin bloodline. Discussion of this shame upsets him greatly.+
“I understand.” Chris nodded. “Zath, thank you for warning us.”
+I only hope our warning has not arrived too late. The Vandle are rededicated to killing us all.+ The Prelt’s orange eyes dimmed briefly. +Such a shame it would be if our sole legacy were the root cause of galactic genocide.+
14.
Paul Stragdoc had returned to his throne room, briefly stopping to check on his dear Callixta, who had lapsed into unconsciousness. There, his chief advisors had gathered. Admiral Tilial Dalth of the fleet, Praxus Truk to represent the Neuromancers, Simon Peters of the scientific corps, and General Peter Curwin of the Planetary Defense Force.
Stragdoc ascended to his throne, his face grim. Seating himself, he looked over his attendants.
“Prepare for invasion.” He snarled.
Almost as if on cue, alarms began sounding in the city. A page raced into the chamber. “Emperor! An unknown force is assaulting Derverstand!”
He returned to his feet, hands clenching and unclenching. “Move to the council chambers and begin preparing our defense. Except you, Praxus. You and I are going to defend our people on the front line.”
Deep within the palace, in an isolation cell, the creature that had identified itself as Codex made his species equivalent of a smile, its eyes brightening.
For it heard the alarms and Quordex knew what that signalled. Its grandchildren were coming to free it.
---
Derverstand’s financial district was in chaos from the assault. Several Alphites lay dead, ripped apart in such a fashion that rendered even their incredible regenerative powers useless.
Paul Stragdoc and Praxus Truk stood surveying the destruction. “Thoughts?” The Emperor asked his brightest student.
Praxus glanced around. “This isn't an invasion, this is just chaos and destruction.”
“Ah, but there is a purpose in the chaos caused.” Stragdoc grinned. “Fear. Confusion. Our enemy wields these weapons like a surgeon. A being strong enough to mangle a body like that,” he pointed to a nearby corpse “doesn't need to. It could just as simply have dashed their head against the pavement, twisted their head right off...but instead chose complete dismemberment and evisceration.”
Praxus felt an approaching presence and armed his rifle. “Of course, it's possible as well that they just like to kill like that.”
“Very true.” The Emperor sniffed the air. “Wait, do you smell-”
That was as far as he got before a pale, screaming form rocketed out a nearby window at them. Stragdoc calmly lifted a hand, holding the flailing creature in mid-air. Praxus choked back a horrified scream at the flailing arms, tentacles, and the pure, unbridled hate in the thing’s eyes.
“My, you certainly are vile, aren't you?” Stragdoc’s grin widened as he examined his catch. Another of the creatures plummeted down behind him, withholding its scream in order to achieve its ambush.
It never got a chance, for the Emperor had felt the impact behind him, caught the increased odour of rotting fish and eggs, and mentally reached out to snap the alien creature’s neck.
“So rude to interrupt an introduction.” Stragdoc chuckled. Another creature ran down the side of a nearby skyscraper, forgoing the idea of silent ambush, ululating a scream heard for miles.
Praxus took this one, telekinetically propelling himself into the air while opening fire. His shot bisected the alien, its torso falling free, the tentacles still clutching the wall a moment before joining the plummet.
Praxus slowed his own fall, watching as the Emperor, his smile growing further, gestured at the ground. Two more aliens blasted through the pavement, the impact shattering them before they were wrenched loose.
“I don't sense any more of them, sir.” Praxus kept his rifle pointed at the Emperor’s catch, still suspended in mid air, flailing impotently.
“Keep your guard up, anyway.” Stragdoc instructed, then began a slow walk around his captive. Praxus radioed an all-clear, then alerted Simon Peters’ science division, knowing that they’d want the corpses for analysis. Then he heard the Emperor whisper something that sounded like gibberish.
“Vandleifdulus.”
Almost instantly, the creature stopped thrashing. The hate still radiated from its eyes, but now it stared at the Emperor with curiosity as well.
“Sir? How did you-?”
Stragdoc held up a hand. “Sshh.” He smirked at the alien. “Lavnabren.”
The creature shrieked this time almost in ecstasy. Praxus thought he heard those same nonsense syllables in the thing's scream.
“Absolutely fascinating.” Stragdoc murmured. “A perfect engine of destruction, born to hate and kill anything that is different.”
“Sir? My lord? Do we take it prisoner?” Praxus lowered his rifle slightly.
“We probably should.” Stragdoc agreed. Then there was a sickening crunch as he snapped its neck. “But I refuse to risk it escaping.”
---
Quordex sat, wondering what was taking the Vandleifdulus so long. These near-humans were certainly no match for his greatest creation.
As opposed to the tale Zath had told, Quordex h
ad left certain details out. Namely, his hand in their creation. In fact he’d given the impression that the creator of the Vandleifdulus had indeed been killed at their hands.
He heard the door open, and saw the hateful creature that thought itself an Emperor standing there. He smiled, that curious human facial expression, and lobbed something into the room. Then the door slid shut again.
But Quordex barely registered that. His attention was entirely upon the severed head of a Vandleifdulus that had been tossed inside. The message was clear: Your tales do not scare me.
Quordex knew he could no longer rely on his grandchildren to rescue him. He was on his own. Fine. He’d been on his own before, and won through. This was nothing. Wasn't it?
