Titan Race

by Edentu D Oroso

  The nonchalance of Ramune and Hemse surprised him. He was at their mercy and their silence unnerved him. Another saucer came on a collision course with his. Finia directed the saucer with his mind and it veered in the direction of his thoughts, sparing him from getting into a fatal crash.

  "The saucer was thought-driven." Finia smiled at the thought.

  He had uncovered an integral piece of the Guardians puzzle.

  "The mind is such a funny thing to play tricks with," he joked.

  Finia sent his saucer off course, avoiding the oncoming ships.

  "These are the possibilities, the energy forge avails for us Guardians," Ramune said. "Our prerogative is to tinker with the mind whichever way it soothes us."

  "Little wonder this place is called the PlayToy" Finia said, his face glowing with a juvenile disposition.

  "Your feelings are what fuels the energy forge. It's the electricity that ultimately stirs the engines," Hemse cautioned.

  "Hey, watch out, another saucer is coming."

  Finia mind-controlled his saucer, deflecting it from the left flank in time, only to discover a missile fired by another fast-advancing one. Keeping Hemse’s warning in mind, he created another trajectory in his mind for the missile. It veered away almost without hitting his saucer.

  Ramune commended Finia. "Fast thinking!"

  "There is more to survival instincts than thinking on your feet. This craft should be your PlayToy. Play around with it a bit, Finia."

  Finia got the hint. He triggered the control panel with his mind. Missiles belched out from the flanks of his saucer, heading towards the attacking fleet.

  "A mind-guided war of saucers," he echoed with a smile. "This is it!"

  "Don't be too cocky about it, stay on course," Ramune warned.

  “You bet these Martians are in for a treat," boasted Finia. He laughed and rocked his head while stunting with his saucer.

  The ensuing crossfire of missiles was mind-guided by the Martians and Finia. They turned the reddish sphere into a crimson furnace and it became sparked by exploding canisters and projectiles. The aerial stunts, especially the mind-aided re-routing of missiles, appeared too real to be mistaken for mere simulations. Only Mikuthi, Hemse, Ramune, and the other Martians knew the script. The other saucers vanished from Finia's view. He heard a command from Hemse over the saucer's console unveil the plan of the Guardians.

  "The Furnace is over! Call off the attack, Mikuthi. We are making a detour," Hemse said with emphasis. "Turn the craft homeward, Finia."

  "Fine," Finia concurred, with a wry smile.

  He realized the import of the order, that it spared him further mind stunts. He steered the saucer with greater ease back to the belly of Lightship-2. The unexpected happened as he touched down on the saucer's holding.

  The holding caved in and the saucer fell into a vaporized hollow at the base of Lightship-2. Finia's heart skipped a couple of beats with the saucer's plunge, his face ashen with fear. Knowing what was at stake, Hemse and Ramune took the rude shock with calmness.

  The hollow’s size was bigger than the holding. A boiling substance almost filled it to the brim. Thick haze emitted through the air, enveloping the saucer at a high temperature. Intense heat seethed through the alloy of the saucer, trapping Finia and his companions in its lid. Beads of perspiration trickled down their faces.

  Finia overcame the initial shock from the plunge. He noticed something sinister about it. The saucer's alloy began to disintegrate, starting from its outer panels. This exposed the Guardians to the stark reality of the reddish liquid substance. The lack of life sustaining gas worsened their plight, almost asphyxiating them.

  Ramune and Hemse conjured up protective shields around their bodies, micro-swirls, before the remaining alloy buckled into the heat. Noticing his companions' desperate bid, Finia called forth the same shield from the depths of his being. It encased him, as the liquid broke through to their position by the saucer's control panels. By this time, the saucer remained an empty shell.

  The three Guardians floated in the fluid substance, like globules in a raging sea, before noticing the opening atop the hollow's lid. The liquid's level increased until it bore the floating bodies of Finia, Ramune and Hemse close to the brim. Some helmeted Martians in prosthetics lifted them off the liquid surface, onto safer ground on the belly of Lightship-2.

  "Welcome back from the Fiery Furnace," Mikuthi boomed through his helmet.

  "Thanks for the tour," Hemse said, diffusing his protective shield in the same mysterious manner he had conjured it.

  "It takes some guts to go through this, you know," Ramune bantered.

  "You can say that again," Finia said, with a hint of sarcasm. At last, like Ramune, he had undone his shield. "I suppose the saucer is gone?"

  Mikuthi shook his head. "No. You may want to take note of what transpired in there. Come with me."

  Mikuthi led the way through the tangle of saucers in the holding. They veered to the left of the belly of Lightship-2 and took a flight of stairs. They entered a room full of monitors, pressed against an arc panel wall.

  "Please, take your seats," Mikuthi said, indicating the seats in front of the panel. "Here are the records of the simulations."

  He fingered one of the buttons on the lower base of the panel, bringing up the scene of the hollow of liquid substance.

  Finia observed the gradual disintegration of the saucer, their floating globules, and the increase in the liquid levels. After their exit from the liquid surface, the dismembered saucer came back together like a jigsaw puzzle.

  Finia grinned. The liquid substance disappeared and the hollow transformed into the saucer's initial holding in the belly of Lightship-2.

  "A wonderful trip into the crypt, no doubt. You came out finer than you went in," Mikuthi said.

  "Really?" Finia felt ill-at-ease with the Martian’s dry sense of humour.

  "Instincts are often defined by the environment. This is a perfect example."

  "Mikuthi, riddles rather compound the problem," Finia remonstrated. "Speak to me in plain language."

  "We had to trigger your survival instincts, by creating an environment that stifles."

  "And?"

  "Alter your alchemy by way of our own injections as to what you saw in the liquid substance. You are certainly better than when you went in, Finia."

  "Is this all?"

  "If you can withstand the heat in there, you can withstand whatever pressure you'd face anywhere."

  "I understand," Finia said, realizing he had just been reprimanded.

  "Not exactly."

  "What do you mean?"

  "You believed everything you went through was reality based. These experiences materialized into something that appealed to your senses. Yet they were all illusions. We had to put those simulations in place. It's all a mind game. Illusions!" Mikuthi laughed.

  "Mikuthi, are you saying I ought to look at it from a different perspective? Would it be to my advantage, if I perceive the challenges of a Guardian as illusory as the simulations?"

  Mikuthi cleared his throat for emphasis.

  "Something close to it. When you were caught in the cauldron, you experienced the reddish fluid. A simulation, meant to mimic the atmospheric pressure you would face on the PlayToy. They are only illusions."

  "What do you mean?"

  "The human mind is capable of contemplating deep truths. Yet, we often limit our minds, seeing just a fragment of reality. In other words, you only observe things through the lens of your own desire, ignoring what you ought to see."

  Finia had no time to ponder this, for Hemse spoke, cutting through his thoughts. "Fellow Guardians, we must take our leave now," he announced, with a nonchalant air.

  Hemse rose from his seat and patted Finia on the shoulder.

  "It has been one hell of a
ride for you. You need to catch up with your body. On our part, we have a shuttle to make - to Blackhole."

  "Good work, Mikuthi. We are on our way now," Ramune said.

  "Should I arrange for your trip back?" Mikuthi said, with a patronising tone.

  "It won't be necessary. We still have enough strength as it is, to cross the void on our own," Ramune said.

  "Finia, get moving, your body needs you. We will meet again soon, at the Blackhole meetings," Hemse said.

  Finia felt an instant tug from within, returning him to his body. In a few micro-swirls, he crossed the void and stood above his stiff body. He lowered his higher self into it and in the next breath awoke with a start.

  The night creatures had begun their noisy chant. The sounds melting into the din of his friend's voices. They sat on the other side of the two bedroom apartment. Netu did not bother to turn on the light. A numb sensation fell across his hands and feet. He flexed them to get the blood circulating through his veins. He had been meditating for two hours.

  Netu recalled the lessons of his soul's flight with a sense of duty. The Guardians would not have taken the pain to drill him if they did not think it important; a sort of warning of the opposition he might come against and his capacity to cope. The thought did not frighten him. Rather, it inspired him to answer the call of duty with the doggedness it deserved. He still had a few hours before dawn and continued with his night's meditation. It seemed the only way he could keep a rein on these vile forces.

  # # #

  "Welcome back to Blackhole," Numa greeted Hemse and Ramune on their arrival at the Wisdom Hall, Blackhole.

  "Thank you, Father of the Blackhole," they chorused.

  "Finia has not lost much of his instincts," Ramune began. "He needed a little touch to ignite memories of the past. I believe he fared well."

  "I believe so too," Hemse said. "But my reservation is whether we did our part well.”

  "You did fine," Numa said. "Please, take your seats."

  "Couldn't we have given him more?" Ramune asked, taking his seat on Numa's right.

  "We will, later," Numa said.

  "I'm not sure he needs too much prepping."

  "I guess you're right, Hemse. But let's concern ourselves with what we should be doing now."

  "And what's that?" Ramune probed.

  "A little celebration for a job well done. Finia has all it takes to confront the inevitable for now. All our other playhouses are stable. So we deserve a moment of rest, don't you think?"

  Hemse liked Numa's suggestion. "Yes."

  "Come with me. We are going for a cruise on the Tamed Star. It's time you were rewarded for a job well done." Numa glowered.

  Together they walked out of the Wisdom Hall and boarded the Tamed Star, Blackhole's gigantic space vessel of diverse functions; in this particular case, used as a fun cruise through the cosmic sea.

  Chapter Four

  Newland, Riagena. January 14, 1996.

  The loud thud of feet on the granite-strewn driveway was amplified rhythmically towards the main door of the exquisite mansion. Lina Phillip Uwa had heard the semblance of faint drumming from far down the street a moment before her drift into dreamland. Now stirring under her blanket, she listened to the pattern of the sound with a strong presence of mind. The impact of the thud on pieces of granite, she reckoned, could not have come from one man’s feet.

  Her brow arched with a hint of fear, which overtook her calmness. Not a known tradition, for no stranger would dare to dawdle around the house late at night, with the security team doing alternate duty rounds. She had lived alone for a long time and never heard anything close.

  Lina sat up at the edge of her exquisite mahogany bed and threw off her blanket. She tried to understand the meaning of this late-night intrusion in the yard. She peered through the bedroom window and beyond the dark veil of night.

  “This is stupid,” she decided, knowing she had drawn the blinds, thumbed out the bed lamp and took cover under her blanket before the flurry of feet on the driveway stirred her out of sleep. Groping around her dressing table now, she switched on her bed lamp. Warm light flooded the room.

  Lina got up and whisked her fur coat from the dressing table where she had flung it before jumping to bed. She struggled into it with trembling hands. Taking a deep breath to calm her quaking nerves, she headed downstairs to confront the strange intruders.

  The first set of stampeding feet had reached the front door by the time she left the bedroom. She heard a slight though persistent bang against the door, a hastened attempt to undo the handle. She hurried down, throwing caution to the wind.

  What would Gabriel be looking for so late into the night? she cursed as she clattered down the stairs. Couldn't he wait till dawn to sort out whatever? He must have sold the screws of his stupid head to think he could rob me of my sleep.

  "Gabriel!" hollered Lina. "How dare you deprive me of sleep? Don't you have an iota of respect for me? Would you explain the rationale for this intrusion into my house?"

  She had reached the last rung of stairs, surprised that no response came from the other end. Had she miscalculated? No, it must be Gabriel – perhaps, just being mischievous, or trying to infuriate me, or scare me out of my pants. She quivered.

  "Stop ignoring me, Gabriel,” she fumed, fumbling with the key to the main door.

  “It is me. Please, open the door,” said a man in panicky voice.

  She braced herself for he didn’t sound anything like Gabriel. She quivered the more. “Who are you and what is your business in my house at this hour?"

  Perplexed, the man behind the door replied, "Don't you recognize my voice, Lina?" A mixture of fear and anxiety perceptible in his voice.

  "No, I don't," she said.

  "I'm Netu. Now would you let me in or not?"

  "Netu? Netu Deo, you mean?" she enquired eagerly, pressing her ear to the doorframe. She realized how dumb she had been not to have recognized the soft, enthralling voice that was almost part of her life.

  “Yes, the same Netu.”

  "Pardon me, Netu. Honestly, I didn't recognize your voice. You got me anxious, you know."

  "Netu, are you okay?" she asked, opening the door. "Is something wrong?"

  "I'm okay, I guess," he said, looking over his shoulders. “Please get rid of them.”

  "You are not alone?" probed Lina, remembering the loud clambering from the driveway before.

  She observed him. Nothing ruffled his cool, easy-going mien beyond the presence of two young ladies with glazed-eyes who stood near the edge of the steps to the porch. Their poise hinted Lina of wild animals out for a diabolic feast.

  "Who are they?"

  Netu’s gaze dropped to her feet. "Some friends of mine," he said, somewhat ashamed of them.

  Lina screwed her eyes near-shut and studied him, and then, the duo. They hissed and taunted her by their defiant attitude.

  "I see." Rage rose within her and she fixed Netu a stern gaze. "Would you now tell me what their business is in my house, Netu?”

  Netu scratched his brow instead of a reply. The help he needed from Lina, he knew she would give, but not without explanations. As much as he hated to admit it, he could not shy away from the truth. He needed her shepherding to feel safe. Lina perched on the tree of his life like a mother eagle, ever watchful of the tender eaglet in the nest, daring any creature to come near.

  "They sort of stalked me here," Netu explained in a low voice, still afraid to confront Lina's gaze. He sensed he had said the wrong words and was sure he would regret it later.

  Lina weighed what he had said as ambiguous. She hunched her weight on the door panel, stood akimbo, tapping the polished tiles with her foot. Friends do not stalk friends, she reasoned. It did not make sense to her. Someone was playing smart.

  Lina leered at his unexpected guest. "If th
ey are your friends, how come they stalked you?”

  "I think you should ask them."

  “Oh no, no! I'm asking you, Netu. These ladies don't mean anything to me, but you do – the reason you must tell me the simple truth. That’s all I'm interested in."

  Netu turned half way on his heels and stared at the ladies. "They seem to have this wrong notion I have something of theirs," he said with derision in his voice.

  "Really?" pried Lina. She fidgeted with the door panel. "What did they say their possession is that you have?"

  Netu shrugged. "I don't know. I'm not a keeper of people's possessions."

  Lina’s face glistened with surprise. "You say you don't know what it is, yet, they chased you all the way here?"

  Netu gave a grave nod. "Yes, correct."

  "He's lying," growled one of the ladies, fire burning in her eyes. She had average height, and lithesome, ebony skin. "Tell him to return my gift or else I will unleash the fury of hell."

  Lina looked at the vociferous lady and riveted the glance on Netu. "Go on, Romeo! Tell us about her precious gift and why you’re keeping it.”

  Netu gave Lina a ‘don’t you push me’ kind of look. "I said I don't know anything about it," he snapped. "Can I go in now? Or are these vixens the reason you won't let me in?"

  Lina held up a hand in warning. "Hold on a minute!” she crooned. “You'd enter as usual when we shall have cleared this mess. Now, I want it all straightened out. Who is fooling who?"

  "You know too well he's not telling you the truth,” said the frail lady of ebony skin. She sounded more embittered than before. “How could Netu be so unreasonable? How could he do this to me? He promised me heaven itself and left me hanging, hoping against hope. He made me part with the one thing I cherished with all my life and then vanished. Perfidious, don’t you think?”

  Her veins rose like high tide on her perspiring face. "I want my gift back right away,” she went on. “He must give it or he’ll ever regret knowing me. I'll make him pay with his last pint of blood. No one ever cheats me and goes Scot free." Her hands looked gnarled by the force of her clenched fists.