Children of Enochia

by Luke R. Mitchell

  I glanced back toward the flight room, then willed the wall open and stepped through.

  Inside, the room was larger than the flight deck had been, the walls all sporting the same purplish hue, and flowing oddly from corner to corner without any proper right angles. The deck was a slightly darker shade, with a lightly grated texture, and filled up toward the back with an assortment of well-secured shipping crates.

  It probably said something about my mental state, that I hardly even cared that I was exploring an alien vessel while in orbit of the planet I’d never thought to leave. The crates were clearly of Enochian origin, and silly as it might sound, that was about the most comforting thing I could have hoped to find right just then. I ignored the rest, sat down on my best link to home, and buried my face firmly in my hands, where I could pretend I wasn’t on an alien ship, drifting through space on a sea of damning revelations.

  What I wouldn’t have given to go back to that cramped supply closet with Elise and Johnny right then… Had that really only been this morning? How had my entire world so spectacularly exploded in just a handful of hours?

  Haven, Auckus, Glenbark. Parker and his Alpha-damned rakul. And the Sanctum, sitting on their devious haunches beneath it all, completely unaware—or maybe just not caring—that they were actively seeking to eradicate the only people on the planet who might have any chance at resisting another telepath invasion if and when it came.

  I extended the fingers of my left hand, thinking to check for news from below, only to remember my palmlight was gone—smashed in the woods by Parker.

  “I have spares aboard,” came Parker’s voice from the opening I hadn’t felt confident enough to seal closed behind me. “And the ship will be able to access the reels from orbit, if you’d like.”

  I looked up at the raknoth, wanting to hate him, hating that I was beginning to understand what he was running from, and why he did what he did. Not that I would ever forgive any of it. But even understanding was bad enough.

  “The hybrids,” I said quietly.

  “An army to overthrow the rakul,” Parker said. He didn’t sound particularly apologetic, but nor was there any illusion of grandness in his claim. “In all likelihood, it was a futile effort to begin with. But it was the best we had. I simply underestimated the problem of solving their eventual degradation. Clearly.”

  Underestimated, had he?

  All those living, breathing people he’d been gambling with. Thousands and thousands of lives claimed for his little science project—millions more profoundly affected by the chaos he and his clan had spilled across the planet. And he’d underestimated the problem?

  I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to slam him through the bulkhead and leave him to float in the cold empty darkness, reflecting on all the pain and death he’d wrought until the harshness of outer space finally took him. I wanted him to understand.

  But he already did. He already knew everything I could think to throw at him. He’d understood full well all along what he was doing, what his actions would mean for the people of Enochia. He’d understood, and he’d done it all anyway. I could see it in his eyes now. And it made me gropping sick.

  He was a monster. A monster fighting for his own survival, maybe. But a monster all the same. And nothing I said could make him feel it any more than he already did.

  “Why?” I whispered, pointing my gaze back down to the deck. “Why tell me about the rakul? Why go through all this effort?”

  I didn’t look up at the sound of his approaching footsteps. It was only when he knelt down in front of me that my surprise got the better of me. I met his eyes, and his expression was more earnest than I’d ever seen.

  “Because I want you to help me stop them, Haldin.”

  I just stared.

  Everything he’d just shown me—everything he’d done to my people—and now this?

  What else could I do but stare?

  “I understand your hesitation…” he started.

  And that was all it took to jiggle my shocked brain free and remind me exactly what I could do aside from stare.

  It felt good, letting the energy ride through me in the familiar crackling rush. Even better to hear the thud as Parker slammed into the front wall of the room, twenty feet away. I rose and followed at a more leisurely pace, keeping him firmly pinned to the wall with telekinesis.

  “I understand this reaction,” Parker said.

  I channeled deeper and fed him a solid telekinetic punch to the nose.

  “And that one too,” he grunted, as I closed in on him. “But none of it will change the facts.”

  “I thought changing facts was your specialty, Parker,” came Garrett’s wry voice from the doorway. I turned to find him and Siren both watching from the corridor—Siren looking wary, Garrett eager. “You need a hand with that?” he added, tilting his head toward Parker and fingering his dagger.

  “No,” I said. It came out harsher than expected. “We’re just having a private talk.”

  “Well, all the same…” Garrett shrugged and stepped into the room, Siren following more hesitantly.

  I didn’t want them there. Didn’t even want to be there myself. But it hardly seemed worth the breath to argue—or worth the exertion to keep Parker pinned, I decided, now that they’d interrupted. I dropped the raknoth. He didn’t try to catch himself, just slid down the wall and settled on the deck, looking up at me. The manipulative bastard probably thought the position would be ingratiating or something.

  “He wants help killing his old bosses,” I told the ex-Seekers, mostly because I didn’t know what else to say.

  “Sounds like a him problem,” Garrett said.

  “I was kinda thinking the same thing,” I agreed, still watching Parker.

  “Then you are both fools,” the raknoth said. So much for that ingratiating thing. “The rakul are a problem for all sentient life in the universe.”

  “Well as dire as that all sounds,” Garrett said, “we’ve already got our fair share of assholes here trying to—”

  He jerked at movement above, then ducked as a dark, serpentine something swept down from the ceiling for his torso without warning. Another descended. And another. Garrett growled a curse as one wrapped around his chest and yanked him up. Another caught Siren a moment later. Before I could blink, the two ex-Seekers were pinned face-first to the ceiling, shouting a steady stream of curses as more and more of the dark tendrils unfolded from the ceiling to circle their limbs and torsos.

  “Let them go,” I growled, slamming Parker back to the bulkhead with telekinesis.

  “My kin are numerous,” he said, unperturbed. “More numerous than the humans on Enochia. You’ve seen how strong we can become. And yet the entirety of my people live under the fear of the rakul.”

  “I said let them go, now.”

  “I am far from the first to dream of liberation. There have been revolts in the past. Direct challenge, too. All unsuccessful, but for one. Do you know what became of the first raknoth to defeat one of the Kul, eight-thousand years ago?”

  I barely processed his words, busy as I was watching the slithering ship arms continue ensnaring Garrett and Siren until I could barely see them at all up there. I reached out with my mind, thinking to try manipulating them in the same way I’d done with the corridor wall.

  “He simply joined their ranks,” Parker was saying. “And so Zar’Gada, hero of the raknoth, became Kul’Gada, fierce and fanatic oppressor of our people. Long live the masters.”

  I tested one of the tendrils around Siren’s leg and found my theory was accurate. The tendril quivered at my telepathic influence, but something still held it in place. Parker, I realized.

  “So why do you think I can do anything about it, then?” I cried, trying and failing to keep the strain out of my voice as I threw my will indirectly against Parker’s, first stealthily—a tendril here, another there—then all out.

  No good. Garrett and Siren remained well-secured, their squirms subdued an
d their cursing muffled.

  So I plucked the cloaking pendant from my neck, tossed it at Parker, and back pedaled away. As soon as I was clear of its range—and Parker was still bound by it—the tendrils parted to my will like fluid magic, so abruptly that I almost failed to catch the two ex-Seekers as they plummeted to the deck. Not that I would’ve been devastated to see either of them jostled.

  Parker was on his feet now. I tensed, preparing to fight, but he was smiling. “I think you can do something about it,” he said, nodding to where the tendrils had melded back into the ceiling with a satisfied expression, “because you never cease to surprise.”

  “I’ve got a surprise for you,” Garrett murmured, starting forward, “you scudspouting—”

  I’m not really sure why I felt compelled to stop Garrett from exacting his revenge, but my hand found his chest anyway. For a second, he clearly contemplated taking a swipe at me instead.

  “It’s all telepathically controlled on this ship,” I offered, nodding to the ceiling and hoping it might diffuse some of the tension.

  “Sure, naturally,” Siren said, rubbing at her wrists where the restraints had left marks. “Thanks for the assist, by the way.”

  I nodded. Garrett bristled for a few more seconds before backing off and composing himself.

  “It’s not just Haldin I’m interested in, for the record,” Parker said to the two ex-Seekers. “Your kind are the first I’ve ever encountered that might actually stand some chance of catching the rakul off guard. The more Shapers we can amass against them, the better.”

  “You can grop yourself if you think I’d ever help you after what you did,” Garrett said.

  “And I never said I’d help you, either,” I pointed out. “Which I won’t, by the way.”

  “Oh, I never expected you to help me,” Parker said. “But I know you won’t turn away from protecting your planet. That drive is in your blood, Haldin Raish. That much is clear. Just as clear as the fact that, if we do nothing, Enochia will one day fall to the rakul.”

  Siren and Garrett traded a silent look before Garrett turned to us. “Whatever bullscud you’re proposing, we’re out. Take us back down and we’ll be on our way.” He focused on me. “We came here to work on setting things straight for our people down there, not to play make believe with Alton Parker.”

  “Very well,” Parker said. “I can drop the two of you wherever you’d like, though it’s probably best if we wait for—”

  “The three of us,” I said, before the fear and indecision could stop me. “I’m with them.”

  Garrett and Siren looked surprised, but also pleased. I’m not sure if it was everything we’d been through in the past hours, or just my own growing desperation to find a scrap of solid footing in all of this, but for the first time since they’d shown up by the river, I decided to trust that they were on my side, at least as far as the war on Shapers was concerned. It was all I had right then.

  Parker, meanwhile, let out an exasperated sigh. “You don’t understand the futility of what you’re trying to do.”

  “Maybe not,” I said. “Or maybe it’s you who’s too old and jaded to understand, for all your cold-blooded wisdom. You asked if I understood after seeing the rakul why you’re not concerned about what’s happening on Enochia.”

  He watched with a faintly arched brow, waiting.

  “All I understand is that my planet has spent the past thousand years demonizing people like me, and that you and your clan kicked the tingler nest straight into the bonfire when you showed up. I don’t care what planet we came from, or what might theoretically be coming for us one day. All I know is that this planet needs people like us to make sure things like you can never hurt it again. So I’m going to go find those two kin of yours. I’m going to kill them. And then we’re going to show this world the truth, about all of it.”

  “There’s the crazy ass plan I was expecting,” Garrett muttered.

  “I told you he wouldn’t disappoint,” Siren said.

  Parker was only shaking his head—not in disagreement, but rather in abject disappointment. “I have half a mind to jump us to the next star system right now and give you all a few years to reflect on how ridiculously naive you’re being.” He tossed me my cloaking pendant. “I could do it with a single thought, you know. You’d never find your way back home.”

  I held his gaze, trying not to let him see just how terrified I was that he might not be bluffing. I had absolutely no way to know.

  “Maybe not,” Garrett said. “But we’d definitely kill the scud out of you as soon as we got there.”

  Parker showed us that reptilian smile of his. “Oh, I don’t doubt it.” He studied us for a long, tense moment, before finally letting out another uncharacteristically human sigh. “But what a waste that would be. Very well. I will take you back to your beloved planet. But first, might I at least suggest that you come up with something resembling a real plan before you march off against two of my gifted kin and an entire world religion?”

  I turned my pendant over and over in my fingertips, thinking about the simpler of the two problems first.

  “I think I’ve got a few ideas.”

  20

  Ship Mates

  For all our collective bravado about getting ground side and back to the mission, it was hard to argue that there was a strong reason to do so right that very minute. For one thing, judging from what we’d seen in the reels, half the damn planet was currently looking for us—or for Parker and myself, at least. And for another, we were still working on that plan.

  What little we did have was easily doable in Parker’s ship, from the safety of orbit. And so, since we had over another full day before our meeting with Elise and Franco anyway, we reluctantly agreed to stay aboard the ship for a day, crafting, testing, and refining the tools that would hopefully help us take down the last two raknoth when we found them.

  For the most part, Parker left us alone, aside from the occasional remark about what fools we were all being. I didn’t even talk to Garrett or Siren all that much beyond the time we spent working on my newest rune creations. To say there was tension on the ship would’ve been putting it lightly.

  I cringed at the footage of me and Parker escaping Haven when I finally saw it in the reels. Somewhere between fighting off supercharged raknoth in the woods and drifting around in Parker’s memories of the rakul, I’d almost managed to momentarily forget just how deep of a hole I’d dug for my reputation back on Enochia. Deep enough that I couldn’t help wonder if Parker wasn’t right that I was beyond foolish to even attempt going back. But what choice did I have?

  I knew the truth—about the Sanctum, and about why we were likely going to one day need every Shaper we could get our hands on. There were twelve rakul out there. There were apparently a whole scudload more raknoth. And even down below, there were more dark secrets than I could count, lurking beneath the surface. The origins of our beloved Sanctum. The origins of all gropping life on Enochia…

  They needed to know. All of it.

  If only that single resolve could’ve made me impervious to the rest of the crushing doubt. Because as good as it sounded—the truth and nothing but the truth—I honestly had no idea how I could ever hope to convince the world about any of it, much less what might happen if I somehow did.

  It would be revolution. Maybe one of blood and violence. Maybe one of radical inner turmoil. It might be utter anarchy, pure and simple. But no matter what it was, I was pretty sure things would only be getting messier before they could possibly hope to get any better. After all the scud I’d been through in the past few seasons, to think that it had all merely been the eye of the storm, and that we were now preparing to fly into the true chaos…

  It almost made me want to tell Parker right then and there to jump the ship across the stars and to never look back.

  But that wasn’t an option. It just wasn’t. As much as it chaffed my spirit to admit it, Parker hadn’t been wrong about my inability to turn
away from the safety of Enochia. It was in my blood. Maybe it was an inherited trait, passed down hereditarily from Captain Martin Raish. Or maybe it was simply in the weight I still felt each and every day—the quiet reminder of what my parents and Carlisle had all sacrificed to keep me here.

  Not too long ago, that weight had nearly driven me over the edge with guilt-ridden compulsions, grinding myself to the bone in a futile attempt to propagate their legacy. I couldn’t count the number of times I’d let my actions be ruled by the singular question, What would Carlisle do? I still wondered about that plenty. What would Carlisle do? What would my dad say about this? I doubted I’d ever stop asking. But it had taken nearly losing Elise to finally accept the truth on the other side of that mountain of blackened guilt.

  They hadn’t died so that I could carry on mindlessly doing their will, accepting none of the responsibility. They’d laid down their lives to give me the chance to make my own mark on the world. They’d sacrificed themselves because they’d believed in me.

  It was a terrifying realization.

  But it only solidified my certainty in what needed to be done. I felt it clinging on, from the deepest depths of my gut to the farthest fringes of my conflicted thoughts. It needed to be done. And if the past cycles had taught me anything, it was that the intangible certainty tingling through my insides was the only pole to which I could orient my compass if I wished to maintain my sanity.

  Alpha knew I needed all the help I could get in that department.

  Given that none of us were exactly comfortable sleeping on an orbiting spaceship with an alien who, as far as I knew, didn’t actually require sleep, by the time the second night rolled around, all of us were growing delirious with sleep deprivation. All of us but Parker, of course. The rest of us fluctuated erratically between loopy-and-unusually-friendly, and moody-and-overly-aggressive. It didn’t help when the official news of the abrupt change in Legion leadership finally hit the reels.

  Where the footage of me and Parker had made me cringe, the first official statement of the newly-anointed High General Auckus just made me nauseous. He apologized for the repugnant indecision the previous leadership had displayed in the Sanctum’s oh-so-clearly righteous war on demons. He profusely condemned the actions of Freya Glenbark—who was to be put on trial immediately for high treason—as well as the actions of her supporters, who were soon to follow. And finally, with his most aggressively wolfish, scud-eating smile yet, he revealed the exciting prize he’d claimed in his takeover of Haven: two live-and-kicking demons, locked safely away in the brig, ripe for the slaughter.