by Drew Avera
Days had passed since T’anoi’s funeral and the only change was the stack of files she devoured for knowledge going into a separate stack as she finished them. “Millions of words and not one mention of a secret site to hoard research he did not want us to know about,” Hespha said, tossing another file behind her in anger. The loose sheets of paper floated like feathers before dropping to the stone floor. “Where did you come by this information you so freely shared on the ride back from your brother’s memorial? Was this supposed video footage doctored, is it a sham? You would think when physical evidence such as that exists, then finding more of it would be expected.” She painted her question with hostility as she wondered whether Ka’Hor’al spoke the truth or if it was grief that led him to utter fiction from his slippery tongue. That was the problem with dealing with people like T’anoi and Ka’Hor’al, their embellishments were often maddening.
“You have to read between the lines of things T’anoi said and some of his correspondences,” Ka’Hor’al replied. “He was meticulous with details, so if he wanted to hide it, then he wouldn’t make it easy for us.” Ka’Hor’al held his own stack of papers. His hair an unkempt mess atop his head, he looked more like T’anoi than usual to Hespha.
Hespha rose from her seat and stamped over to him, glowering. “Are you serious? We’ve gone through every file in his office, and not a goddamned thing jumped out regarding what you told me. These files were secured, his eyes only, so tell me, what fucking lines am I supposed to be reading between?” She spat a flurry of profanities as she turned away from him. She hated losing control like that, but nothing in her plan to take charge of CERCO was working out as planned. Just getting the files in T’anoi’s office required more bureaucracy than she could stomach, then finding out they did not contain the information she thought was enough to send her over the edge. This was supposed to be easy. Instead, I’m weeks behind schedule on a program with more secrets than expected.
“I’m sorry, but you know how T’anoi was. He kept his greatest secrets in his mind. Perhaps he did not document it in any way, but that does not mean we cannot find a paper trail. He could not have done everything himself. We just have to find the person he tasked with dealing with things outside the realm of CERCO’s power.”
Hespha blew a tuft of hair out of her face and turned back to him. “You do it. My eyeballs want to melt after combing through these files. Besides, I have a meeting later today about the inevitable turning over of the company to me. Of course, the board is now tap-dancing around the issue, requiring a vote for me to take office. It’s all bullshit, and I’m getting tired of it.”
Ka’Hor’al nodded. “I can do that. In the meantime, you should eat something. You know your blood sugar drops when you skip meals, and it makes it harder for you to concentrate.”
It was Hespha’s turn to nod. “Thank you for the reminder,” she said, falling back into her seat and sighing. “This week has been hard for me to process.”
“Tell me about it. I don’t go a day without thinking about what I have done.”
“It’s for the best,” Hespha assured him. “If we are going to stop that wicked empire from spreading its filthy fingers into our territory, then they must be stopped at any cost. T’anoi did not see the avenue to our survival as clearly as we do, but it was important for us to take the reins. You did the right thing. We did the right thing.”
Ka’Hor’al sat down, putting his face in his hands. “That remains to be seen, Hespha. Even your strongest supporters are tap-dancing, as you say. Until they grant you full access, this has not been worth the hardship, the loss.”
Hespha looked at T’anoi’s brother and wondered how they could be so different. If the shoe was on the other foot, T’anoi would not focus on the negative of the situation, but would cleverly devise a means to turn the situation into a positive. It was an attribute Ka’Hor’al seemed devoid of, especially peculiar considering their other similarities.
“Less complaining and more working,” she said as she rose from her seat. “I’m going to shower and get ready for the meeting. I need you to make headway on this.”
“Do you need some company?” Ka’Hor’al asked, his eyebrows raised. He became more vocal with his attraction to her since T’anoi’s passing which made her uncomfortable. The fling they had was over in her mind, and his inability to grasp that only dug deeper into her frustration. “I’ll use warm hands this time.” He made a juvenile gesture with his hands as he leaned closer to her, his eyes staring at hers almost like a pet begging.
Hespha looked at him and ignored the urge to slap the look off his face. “Not today,” she smiled, painting the fake expression on her face to cover her rage. It wasn’t the first time she wore the mask, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.
“Are you sure?”
Hespha rolled her eyes, despising herself as much as Ka’Hor’al, for relenting. “Fine, but don’t take all the hot water this time.” She felt his smirk without having to look back at him. He thinks he’s winning me over, but one day he will find out I don’t love him, that my heart belonged to the one we betrayed, and I will never forgive myself for the part I played. It’s only a matter of time before I repay debts.
7
Anki
The scenery changed every time Anki found herself thrust into pursuing Carista through the wasteland of a planet. The flowing, white robes enveloped her small body, whipping out like tendrils towards her follower. Anki could smell the rotten decay of death as she involuntarily did the bidding of the figure eerily in Carista’s image. In her mind, Anki knew none of it was real, but the experience still threatened to make her shut down emotionally, to just walk without volition, then crawl if she had to, towards whatever the apparition wanted to show her.
Anki slowed, prompting the veiled Carista to turn and wave her closer. The haunting image of the innocent girl burned into Anki’s mind. The smoldering remains of the terra seeming to try to entrap her in its snare. Should I stay and be devoured or follow this girl I know is not really Carista? It was the same question every time, preceding the seizure-like experience overcoming her in her dreamlike state. But this time was different. This time Carista did not descend upon Anki to save her. This time it was someone else, a woman with dark hair and glowering eyes. Anki gasped for air as the putrid smells of the planet crept inside her nostrils, attempting to choke the life from her. But she did not run. Instead, she watched the woman, then Carista, whose face contorted into a scream.
Around her, blue light formed into an orb. It grew outward, encasing the three of them in its protective shell. Anki did not know how she knew this, she simply understood and did not question it, taking comfort in the fact she could be protected during such a horrifying experience. But comfort faded like an ember’s dying light when the woman turned back, a wicked smile on her face when she lifted an object in her hand, pointing it towards Carista. Is it a gun?
Anki’s choking sensation evaporated as if an invisible force released its grip from her. She found her body burning under the heat of the blue orb.
“Run, Carista!” Anki shouted over the sound of roaring wind whipping around her in a torrent. Grit pelted her in the face as a storm rose inside the orb, obscuring her vision. Still, the dark-haired woman stood threateningly, her gaze shifting back and forth between Anki and Carista.
The ground rumbled beneath Anki, the dirt rising as cracks formed under her feet. She shifted to a solid portion, kneeling to keep from toppling over. She screamed, her throat aching as her voice disappeared into a cacophony of sound. She looked desperately to Carista, but the girl was gone, as was the woman.
She’s taken her! Anki looked around her, the rumbling growing louder, piercing as the wind wailed, screeching past her, whipping her hair behind her. “Carista?” She called.
“Carista?”
She listened for a sound, squinting her eyes and hoping to find the young girl standing where she was moments before, but she was gone and Anki w
as alone. She had lost the girl. Again. Her guilt tore her apart emotionally, tears smearing the grit on her face as she fell to her knees.
“Carista?” Her voice cracked.
“Carista?” She cried louder, desperate.
“Carista!”
“Anki.” She heard her name, but she could not tell from which direction.
“Anki.” Her body lifted from the ground and she fell hard, the wind knocked out of her. She convulsed, the seizure coming over her more fiercely than it had before. Her eyes bulged, the grit burning against them as she lost motor function.
In her mind she screamed out to Carista, hoping beyond hope for the girl to hear her and come to her aid, but she met only the windstorm and isolation. She felt the lapping flames of eternal death burning beneath her. Half alive, and half dead, Anki experienced the torment of one thousand deaths.
And it brought her to the brink of madness.
8
Ilium
His mind raced with his heart as he regained awareness in a med cart, his head wrapped, and his vision obscured somewhat by gauze. All around him, members of the crew lay in various states of consciousness. Most of them looked comatose, with wires and tubes protruding from their bodies leading to a bank of beeping life support machines. The constant chirping reverberated in his brain, its cadence piercing like an ice pick driven into his cerebral cortex to a steady rhythm. It was torturous in its cruel, yet lifesaving purpose.
“Help,” he croaked with great difficulty. He tried to reach towards his face to remove whatever was lodged in his mouth, but he found his hands bound to the cart, sending him further into a panic. “Help!” The shout, almost muted by the obstruction, caused him further pain.
Ilium yanked on his restraints, desperate to break free. What is happening to me? If not for the pain, he would think himself dead, unless this was the other side, in which he knew he had been damned.
“Commander Gyl, please settle down, sir. You will cause yourself further injury,” came from behind him and he strained to look in the direction the feminine voice originated. He heard a few steps approaching, and the ship’s surgeon appeared, her uniform stained with blood and a wild look in her eyes as if she was part of a ground assault unit.
“What’s happening?” He asked, his words choked and distorted. He felt tears welling in his eyes and looked away, trying not to draw attention to them. Fear and pain mixed inside him, disrupting his usual perception of himself as he discovered how absolute his helplessness was.
The surgeon placed a compassionate hand on his shoulder and spoke, “Sir, I’m Dr. Remes, and you sustained significant injuries during the attack. The head wound is a result of blunt-force trauma. When you were escorted to the med bay, you blacked out due to excessive swelling in your brain. We had to perform emergency surgery to relieve the pressure. The good news is the swelling has dissipated over the last three days since you were placed in a medically induced coma.” She paused and asked whether he understood what she was saying. At his nod, she continued. “The bad news is that during that time, Captain Crexon passed away due to his own injuries. Commander Murta has taken charge of the ship until you are well enough to resume command.”
Everything the woman had said evaporated except the part about Crexon being dead. Ilium struggled against his restraints, wanting to hide his face from the tears pouring from his eyes. Why? Why did he have to die? He tried to speak, but no words formed, just a muffled groan.
“I’m sorry to break this news to you, sir, but I thought you would want to know. Lieutenant Stavis mentioned your concern for the captain after the attack was the reason you found your way down here. That act may have resulted in our finding you as soon as we did. With the initial chaos on the bridge, who knows what might have happened. I am sorry about Captain Crexon. He was a good man, very compassionate.”
It was the understatement of the millennium in Ilium’s mind. In the briefest amount of time, Captain Crexon changed the way Ilium thought of his service and where his loyalty lay. The captain made Ilium want to be a better person, to overcome his past and forge a better future. He owed much to the man, and now he was gone. Such a waste.
“I also apologize that the tubes must remain for the next forty-eight hours. You need to be monitored closely after the procedure you endured.” Dr. Remes frowned, obviously noticing the pain Ilium felt, not just from the surgery, but from losing Captain Crexon as well. “If you need anything from me, please press this button here.” She pointed to a square device mounted to his med cart. “In the meantime, if you promise not to try to remove my equipment, or attempt to get up, I will take the restraints off. But if you so much as tug on one tube, you’re going to be sedated and secured. Do you understand?”
Ilium looked at her and nodded, wanting nothing more than to do the things she told him not to do, but knowing she was serious with her threats.
“All right, let’s see if we can’t get you a bit more comfortable.” Dr. Remes reached over him and unclasped the strap attached to his right wrist before moving her attention to the one on his left. Once the restraints were detached, Ilium grabbed her by the wrist and stared her in the eye. He did not speak, knowing his words would not be understood, but he had something to say that he could not let pass another moment.
His eyes felt puffy, and he knew he was crying, feeling the warm, salty tears streak down his face and drip onto the bedsheets. Dr. Remes stood there, gazing at him with as much emotion as he felt.
“I will miss the captain too, Commander. He was the best commanding officer I’ve served under in the eighteen years of my career. But,” she stopped speaking and took Ilium’s hand in hers. “I see that potential in you too, sir. Please don’t mess with the equipment. The crew needs you to make a full recovery. They’re counting on you.”
With those words hanging in the air, Dr. Remes left Ilium alone to reflect. Captain Crexon was at the forefront of his thoughts, but lingering in the back of his mind was another.
Revenge.
9
Brendle
Brendle leaped from the bed after hearing Anki crashing to the deck, the sound of her body striking the surface with a dull thud sending a chill down his spine. “Lights,” he said, the lighting of the room illuminating as he crawled over the bed to Anki’s side and peered over the edge where she lay, eyes rolled back in her head as she shook uncontrollably. “Anki!” He shouted, falling off the bed in his hustle to get to her. He landed hard on his knees, pain shooting up both legs and he winced, trying to ignore the pain to help her. “Pilot, Anki needs help,” he said before shouting. “Help! Deis. Malikea. One of you, help!”
He held her down, trying to keep her convulsions from slamming her head back onto the deck. “Help!” Brendle shouted again, his panic growing because no one arrived yet. “Guys, help! Anki, it’s going to be all right, I’m here with you.” He watched helplessly as her amber eyes fluttered.
Deis ran into the room, his robe flying behind him. “What happened?”
Brendle stammered as he tried to formulate a response. “I think it’s a seizure, but she’s never done this before.”
Deis looked around the room and grabbed Anki’s belt from the floor. “Have her bite down on this so she doesn’t hurt herself,” he ordered. Brendle complied, trying to slip the belt between her teeth, between convulsions.
“What now?” He asked.
Deis turned to his husband standing in the doorway. Brendle hadn’t noticed he was there, but the shock on Malikea’s face matched his own. “Get some warm water and rags.”
Malikea ran and Deis turned back around, placing the back of his hand on Anki’s forehead. “She cold as ice. We need to warm her up.” He jumped up and snatched a blanket from the bed and placed it around her body, tucking the edges underneath her. A pillow followed as he placed it gently under her head as the seizing continued.
“What do we do now?” Brendle asked, his voice shrill. He’d never experienced anything like this, especi
ally with someone he cared about, and he could barely think straight.
“We make her as comfortable as possible and we wait it out,” Deis answered.
Unacceptable. “We have to stop this. What about the medical cart?”
Deis shook his head. “It isn’t going to help.”
“How do you know?” Brendle asked accusingly.
Malikea entered the room with a large bowl of water and rags. “Here,” he said, kneeling next to Deis. Together they dipped the rags into the water and placed them around her face and neck.
“Because I’ve seen someone go through this before and the medical cart didn’t help,” Deis replied. “When the seizure subsides, then we will take her to the med cart. Until then, we wait for it to subside. If we move her now, we could cause more harm.”
Brendle watched helplessly. No amount of training in the Greshian Navy prepared him for this kind of emergency. Her seizure came out of nowhere. If not for the sound startling him from his sleep, he might not have known she needed help. Dark thoughts of what could have happened flooded into his mind, yet they still were not sure if she would be all right. He just needed a glimmer of hope to keep his sanity in check.
“I’m here, Anki. We’re all here. Pilot, can you scan her to see if there’s anything obvious causing this?”