I no longer fear death, for to live in this God-forsaken planet would be a far more terrible fate. Yet with death so close, I can't help but wonder: is this life all there is? Is there life after death? If all life in the universe evolved from the big bang, then life itself is nothing more than a cosmic accident. So even if Prin is right and life on Earth was created by some intelligent race, the question still remains: did they evolve, or were they created? Eventually, you must face the question, how did the first life or, for that matter, all the matter in the universe come into existence?
If there's no God, no Great Planner or Universal Force that designed everything, then why should we believe there to be anything beyond this material world? And if that's the case, then I should...no, I must seek a quick end to this physical suffering.
But...
What if I'm wrong? What if there really is a life after death? What if there's some sort of higher power that created everything? What is he or she or it—like? Is he a kind of big Santa Claus who answers the prayers of the faithful? Or is she a vengeful goddess who takes delight in causing suffering? Maybe it is asexual, like these creatures.
And does this god require anything from me to enter into paradise? Is there even a real paradise? Is there something one must do or believe before death? If there is—and I miss it or fail to do it—then death should indeed be something to fear, for my existence after death would be worse than life here.
Why is it that we humans have a tendency to overlook the most important questions in life until it's too late? For surely the most important question one can ever ask is: what will happen to me when I die? All of the choices we make in this life are determined by the answer to that one question. If we believe in evolution, then there is no life after death, so we should seek a life of physical pleasure. If we believe in reincarnation, then we should do as many good deeds as possible to build up good karma. If we believe in God, then we seek to follow his or her rules, whatever we believe those to be.
But is there even a way to know for certain what is true? What if that which I believe to be true is not really true? I may believe it sincerely, but I might be sincerely wrong. What if one of the many "gods" that men claim to have spoken to actually turned out to be real? How could we know for sure? The only way would be for the real god to somehow reveal himself/herself/itself to us. To prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that it is the real god by a display of power and knowledge that no one else could duplicate.
Then if one could know for sure that God was real, one could have hope. Only then would we have a reason to believe that life has any meaning or purpose, and we could know what requirements to meet before we die to be able to go to heaven. For if we believe we'll go to a real heaven, then this world is as bad as our eternal existence is going to get. Even Ch'ran, as insane as he was, had hope that when he died, he would go to be with Nix and live on in another, better life. In this case, ignorance truly was bliss.
But I don't have the luxury to enjoy such ignorance. Science has ruined my "happy ending." For I believe that it has explained the origin of life apart from any divine interference. The harsh reality is that we're all just dust in the wind. And as painful and horrifying as this universe is, there is nothing else. As hard and cruel as it is to accept, now that I face death, I must believe it. This is as good as my existence is ever going to get.
Rebecca clicked off the recorder and sat motionless for several seconds, her thoughts dwelling on recent events. Listening to her journal had reminded her that she still had the vial of poison Prin had given her stashed away in the inside pocket of her jumpsuit.
Should I do it? It would be so simple, her thoughts seemed to taunt her. The Torlig are going to torture me until I tell them everything about our technology, and then they'll simply dispose of me or make me some kind of slave. Better to die here and now.
Her mind made up, she slowly slid her hand into her pocket and removed the vial. She thought that once she had made the decision to go through with it, the actual act would be easy. Yet she fought to keep her hands from shaking as she pried the top off.
No! Somewhere within her, a voice broke through her subconscious to the surface of her mind. I don't want to die. I want to live! Don't give up now. There has to be hope.
Suddenly, the loud creak of rusted metal hinges being forced open echoed like a thunderclap in the stillness of the prison. In the split second she had to make her choice, she gave in to the new voice inside and replaced the cap. Returning the vial to its hidden pocket, she turned to face her cell door just as the lights in the corridor brightened.
The sounds of numerous claws clicking on stone reached her ears long before the party responsible came into view. Three wounded and battered prisoners were being led past her cell by eight burly Torlig. As they passed, Rebecca caught sight of two violet-colored eyes staring in her direction, one nearly swollen shut from some recent abuse.
Sikaris!
The sight of the familiar face despite all the recent experiences lifted her spirits. She almost called out to the alien but quickly decided against it. Moving a little closer to the prison door for a better view, Rebecca watched in silence as Rysth-nuul and Prin were paraded in front of her.
The change in the snake alien's countenance was striking. Where its long whip-like tail had once been, now only a stump remained. Its moss-green scales were now blackened with streaks of dried blood that crossed over the alien's yellow body markings like smeared paint.
Most remarkable, however, were the creature's eyes. Not only had one of them been lost in the fight, but the other three showed that Rysth-nuul had lost something else as well. Rebecca now saw the same look she had seen in the eyes of the rodent creature back in Breuun's throne room: defeat.
The same look you have in your eyes.
As the dark thought whispered through her consciousness, she swallowed hard, recognizing it to be the truth.
"Move it, Diodre scum," one of the guards spat as it shoved Prin from behind. Stumbling, the ferret creature pressed its two right forearms against the opposite wall for support. As Prin recovered its balance, Rebecca noticed that one of its right hands was curled in upon itself, clearly crippled from some injury during the battle. In addition, all four of its wrists were encircled by some kind of metal bracelet. She would have assumed it to be handcuffs except there was no chain linking them together.
The procession stopped just past her door, where one of the lead guards opened the gate to the cell that was diagonal to her own and herded the three prisoners inside. Slamming the door shut behind the dejected beings, the Torlig guards traipsed back down the corridor and disappeared into the darkness followed immediately by another thunderous creak and the dousing of the hallway lights.
She sat in silence for several long moments, wondering if she should call out to Sikaris or Prin. Why should I? They were going to kill me. Serves them right. Yet deep inside of her, that same voice rose up again with a thought that both surprised and disturbed her at the same time. They were only following their instincts. How can they be expected to show kindness when they have never seen it before? She paused, confused by her own thoughts. If evil breeds evil and good breeds good, then how could good ever evolve in a world of selfish evil? In the battle of good versus evil, good must be taught, but evil comes naturally.
"Rebecca."
The sound of her name being called brought her back from her reflections.
"Rebecca," again came the call, yet she did not immediately respond, for the voice didn't sound like it belonged to any of her former companions.
The raspy, hoarse-sounding voice called a third time, speaking in perfect English. "Rebecca, it is Sikaris. Can you hear me?"
Sikaris? "Yes, I can hear you," she responded, her voice inflectionless. "What happened to you?"
The feline alien coughed several times, then gathered in a rattling breath and continued. "Tarrsk must have told his clan mates about all of our abilities. Once we had reached the prison,
they made sure we would not be using them against our captors."
After another bout of coughing, it expounded. "They injected me with something that has affected my throat, they cut off Rysth-nuul's tail, and they put some kind of binders on Prin that are supposed to turn his electrical current back upon himself if he tries to use it."
Rebecca didn't respond. What was there to say? After a moment, Sikaris spoke again, apparently preferring even a one-sided conversation to the stillness of the prison. "If that was not bad enough, Tarrsk must also have told them where we kept our hidden vials of toxin, for they took them from us."
So Rysth-nuul's worst nightmare has come true, she thought cynically. It's a slave again, and it can't commit suicide. In her mind, she envisioned the snake alien doing different kinds of menial tasks for its new masters. It's nothing less than it deserves. May it rot here.
The loud creak of long-neglected hinges and the sudden lighting of the hallway lights abruptly ended the conversation as another group of Torlig guards dragged a cursing and struggling prisoner down the corridor. Once her eyes had adjusted to the light, she realized that the captive was none other than a bruised and beaten Tarrsk.
"No! They will murder me! Do not...Please! I can still be of use to Barraca."
Laughing sadistically, the guards opened the door to the same cell that Sikaris, Prin, and Rysth-nuul occupied and roughly threw the traitor inside. The sight of their former companion roused Rysth-nuul and Prin from their lethargic, defeated state of mind. Even before the rectangular cell door was shut, the snake alien sprang forward and pounced on Tarrsk, driving its diseased body into the cold, unyielding stones of the floor. The prison guards laughed uproariously as Prin and Rysth-nuul began to pummel Tarrsk with their fists.
Rebecca found herself caught between her curiosity of what kind of revenge Sikaris, Rysth-nuul, and Prin would exact from the traitor and her knowledge that it would probably not be something she would want to witness. For the moment, her curiosity won out. As Rysth-nuul and Prin rained down blow after blow upon the flaky, scaly flesh of the alligator being, she actually found herself wishing she was in the same cell so she could help deliver a few well-placed kicks of her own.
The prison guards began cheering and crowding closer to the door of the cell, obscuring her vision of what was transpiring inside. Inwardly cursing the creatures for blocking her view, she stepped back from the cell door, contenting herself with just listening to the screams of the traitorous creature.
What am I thinking? I can't believe I'm actually upset that I can't see what's going on! One day on this planet and I'm beginning to think like these things. Disgusted by her own bloodthirstiness, she sat down on the floor and listened as the guards hollered and hooted as each blow fell.
Then after one final shout from the spectators, it was over. The Torlig guards remained for a few moments longer, hoping for more entertainment. When none seemed to present itself, they headed back down the corridor, laughing and talking to each other in excited tones about the beating they had just witnessed, as if it were some sporting event. Several seconds later, the outer door shut noisily, and the lights flashed off, returning the prison to its previous state of eerie, black calmness.
Once her eyes had readjusted to the darkness, Rebecca looked across the hall to see if she could discern what had become of Tarrsk. The dim glow filtering down from the grate above afforded her just enough light to make out the traitorous alien's body lying sprawled on the floor in the back of the cell, its already disfigured and mutated face made even more revolting with the addition of blood and swelling. It appeared dead, but she couldn't see clearly enough to make an exact diagnosis.
No one moved or spoke for several minutes, leaving Rebecca to wonder what, if anything, Sikaris and the others were thinking. The only sounds that could be heard were the incessant dripping of water and the far-off moans of other prison occupants. Then breaking through the silence, Rebecca's translator picked up the harsh, grating sound of Rysth-nuul as it cursed.
"Stupid, diseased, screel-infested Torlig. I cannot believe that he was allowed to join Clan Grinath. Breuun should have known better. And then to let him come with us as the technician, that was just stupid. I bet it was part of his plan to break the piece we needed for our transport too."
"Does that make any sense?" Sikaris shot back in the dark, fighting to keep from lapsing into another fit of coughing. "He said himself that he didn't want the Mrdangam to disable our transport. Why would he then break the part we needed to fix it?"
"I do not know," Rysth-nuul sneered in frustration. "But I still think it was too much of a coincidence, and a Krin power regulator does not crack easily."
Before the snake alien could say more, a soft moan rose up from the floor where Tarrsk lay.
"Well," Rysth-nuul said viciously. "It sounds like he is waking up. Maybe I should just ask him myself."
Rysth-nuul's shadowy form reached down and grabbed Tarrsk by the throat and hauled the creature to its feet. Several more groans escaped from the battered creature's abdominal mouth. Then as Tarrsk became fully conscious, it rapidly sucked in a panicked breath.
"No! Please...wait! Do not hit me again!" it cried.
"Sikaris," Rysth-nuul said. "Ask him why he broke the part we needed for the transport."
Prin stood and walked over to where the three of them stood, its eyes lighting up in interest. Sikaris stared at the traitor sternly and relayed the question, indicating to Rebecca that although the Torlig had not taken her translator, they obviously must have removed them from the others. Immediately, Tarrsk began to gasp and choke. "I...I did not want our transport to be broken, but when I contacted my clan from the Joktan ruins, they told me it may be better if we were on foot because there was a hunting party of Torlig on the edge of the mountain waiting for us."
"So you did break it, you slime," Rysth-nuul spat after hearing the translation from Sikaris. Lashing out in anger, it threw the alligator being into the wall. "I told you, Sikaris. I knew it. We should just murder him now and be done with it."
"What is going on?" Prin asked, to which Sikaris quickly recounted the situation.
"Yes, yes," Prin remarked evilly. "I agree with Rysth-nuul. Let us murder him."
"Wait! Wait!" Tarrsk pleaded. "I know a way that we can escape!"
This last statement caught Rebecca's attention. Coming closer to the door of her cell until her face was pressed up against the cold metal bars, she made sure her translator was able to pick up every word.
Prin and Rysth-nuul, however, having not understood, were preparing to follow through with their suggestion when Sikaris stopped them. "Wait."
Crouching down next to the beaten Torlig, Sikaris ceased translating for Prin and Rysth-nuul and instead spoke directly to Tarrsk. "How?"
"Rebecca's weapon," it said in desperation. "We can use it to escape from the prison. Once we are out, we can steal a transport or something. I know many secret ways around the base from when I used to live here before my disease."
Leaning into the crooked bars, Rebecca called out, "What 'weapon? What are you talking about? I lost my gun in the caves, remember?"
By this time, Rysth-nuul and Prin had become impatient, sensing that something important was being discussed. "What is it? What are you talking about?" they each said in their own language.
Frantically trying to plead its case, Tarrsk ignored them and spoke directly to Rebecca. "I was afraid this might happen. I thought it would be good to have another plan in case my clan might betray me, so I lied to them and told them that you would die if they took your protective suit off. I did this so they would not find the weapon in your lower pocket, tucked inside your boot."
For a moment, Rebecca didn't move, her mind completely perplexed. Suddenly, the truth struck her. My tool! I'd completely forgotten about it. I hid it there back in the Grinathian base when I was...
"Wait a minute," she said aloud. "How did you know I had it hidden in my boot?"
"We figured that the easiest way to find out what your various items were used for was to give them to you and watch what you did with them," Sikaris replied nonchalantly, the last words dissolving into a fit of wheezing.
"Someone had better tell me what is going on!" Rysth-nuul demanded impatiently.
While Sikaris translated for Prin and Rysth-nuul, Rebecca sat in her cell, thankful that the darkness hid the flush in her cheeks. Rebecca, you fool! You should've known. They don't trust anybody. Of course they were watching. Well, in this case, it was a good thing. Having finished chiding herself, she extracted the small tool from its hiding place and opened it to the laser cutter. However, before lighting it, a thought suddenly struck her.
"Sikaris, ask Tarrsk if his clan mates have any hidden cameras set up in here." Let's not make the same mistake twice, shall we?
Once she received a negative confirmation from Tarrsk, she pressed the button and activated the laser. The tiny reddish-orange beam nearly brought tears to her eyes as new hope rose up within her. Satisfied that it was fully functional, she turned it off again.
"So what's the plan?"
20
Desperate measures
AS MUCH as Rebecca hated to admit it, she was going to be forced to trust these creatures once again. She thought about the possibility of opening her cell and leaving them but quickly discarded the idea, for she knew she wouldn't get very far without their help. But once they were free, she would need something to keep them dependent on her.
"You want to trust this diseased Torlig scum again?" Rysth-nuul commented after hearing Sikaris's translation of the previous conversation between Tarrsk and Rebecca.
"We have no choice," Sikaris said gruffly. "Besides, Tarrsk would not betray us again. Our escape is his only hope now."
Logic's End Page 25