The Terran Cycle Boxset

by Philip C. Quaintrell

  Kalian used his physical strength to lift Esabelle from the table. Her long, dark hair flowed over his hand, reaching for the floor. Even in death, she was beautiful. For just a moment, Kalian stood in the open doorway, holding Esabelle in the light of her birth star. The echo of Savrick’s personality, which occasionally crept into his own identity, rose to the surface and settled in Kalian’s gut like a block of ice. All at once he felt as if a friend, mentor and daughter had been taken from him.

  When the moment passed, Kalian gritted his teeth, buried his anger and released Esabelle’s body. The daughter of Savrick rode telekinetic waves across the threshold and into space. The effect was similar to watching a person float under water. It was peaceful. Standing on the very edge of the threshold, where the artificial gravity came to an end, Kalian stood and watched Esabelle’s body drift into the void. It wasn’t long before her features sunk into darkness as her body became a silhouette against the sun.

  “Kalian.” Naydaalan’s voice spoke of alarm, breaking Kalian’s reverie.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Naydaalan sounded busy on the other end. “Sensors have detected movement in the debris field. It appears the nanocelium traps have formed a new design and are traversing the solar system. They will be at our location in minutes.”

  Kalian thought about the distance between them and the debris field and gave the nanocelium credit for their speed. With a lasting look at Esabelle, he closed the hold door and re-pressurised the room. She would be stardust once again.

  Falling back into his bridge chair once more, Kalian observed the feedback from the sensors. The nanocelium had clumped together to become three separate entities, each capable of near light speed. Naydaalan was all calm, his centuries of experience and training shining through.

  “Long-range sensors have located three Starforges in nearby systems.” The Novaarian was inputting all three coordinates into the nav-comm. “Any preference?”

  Kalian closed his eyes, hating what he was going to do next. After a quick play with the holographic menu in his suit’s palm, ALF’s image returned to the bridge.

  “I take this to mean you’ve seen reason?” the AI said lazily.

  “Just give us the coordinates to the Criterion, or I’ll put you back in your box.” Kalian was in no mood to barter words, having just released Esabelle back to her star. He purposefully kept his awareness to the confines of the ship, not wanting to touch her body as it descended into the sun.

  Naydaalan hesitated before inputting the new coordinates, but a firm nod from Kalian had the Advent turning to port. Alarms rang out, warning them of the nanocelium’s proximity.

  “This will be our last jump on our current fuel cells. We will need to recharge inside a sunspot in the next system.” Naydaalan primed the Advent’s weapon systems as well as the Solar Drive.

  “There is a perfectly good star in the Criterion’s system,” ALF explained. The AI looked at Kailan, aware that he had the final say.

  Kalian could see the closing gap between them and the weaponized nanocelium. They had to leave, whether it was to find a working Starforge or get the answers they sought. But something about ALF’s constant guidance to the Criterion put Kalian on edge.

  ALF said, “Don’t let Savrick’s feeling towards me cloud your judgement. We need answers, and the Criterion may hold some…”

  Kalian didn’t look at ALF but instead locked eyes with Naydaalan - who was keeping amazingly calm considering three murderous machines were closing on their position. The golden swirls of the Novaarian’s eyes, that always reminded Kalian of galaxies, held trust for him. Naydaalan would go wherever Kalian instructed; a trust the rest of the Conclave did not share.

  “Let’s get out of here.” Kalian nodded at the coordinates from ALF.

  Naydaalan activated the Solar Drive. “I do not think we were welcome here anyway…”

  The Advent was flung into sub-space, leaving Esabelle to return home.

  10

  Kel-var Tionis made the mistake of looking up. Above his head was a ceiling of jagged rock that stretched the breadth of the cavern, surrounding the Shay. Between him and the surface of Shandar was tons upon tons of earth. He felt momentarily trapped underground, claustrophobic even. The Protopcorps chief had spent his entire life looking down on the worlds he inhabited, whether that be from his office in the headquarters - situated at the top of Clave Tower - or his many homes in the floating towers above Shandar’s atmosphere.

  Now he was stuck, hiding underground like some animal. He had everything he could possibly need inside the installation, food, drink, entertainment, girls even, should the mood strike. Nothing compared to his freedom. The Shay reminded himself that when they arrived and ascension was achieved, he would have ultimate freedom. The entire universe would be his to explore and enjoy, and the Conclave and their petty laws would be nothing but dust, nourishment for their glory.

  As ever, there was another voice in the back of his mind, a nagging, troublesome voice. Where he envisioned freedom and power, the little voice spoke of Kel-var’s fears. Would the Shay species transcend, or become slaves to their will? Every family member he had ever known had always spoken of their inevitable change when they finally arrived. The notion was firmly locked into his psyche, but after witnessing first-hand what the cubes did to Professor Garrett Jones and the Terran, known as Malekk, Kel-var was not so sure anymore.

  The Shay leaned against the railing and looked out on the Crucible. The machine was of a design that predated the Conclave, given to them by the first cube Kel-var’s family discovered so long ago. Four pyramids occupied the cavern, each structure the size of any tower that floated above Shandar. All four of the pyramids had been positioned and built into the cavern walls to ensure that their apexes met in the middle. One hung from the ceiling, while two others extended out from the walls and the last pyramid sat on the cavern floor.

  The machine had never been fully tested since once it was activated there would be no turning back. Small experiments had taken place over the centuries, but Kel-var knew that when the Crucible was turned on, no one could stand inside the cavern as he did now. The sheer power of the machines would turn any being’s insides to mush.

  The metallic clatter of robotic legs on the cavern floor resounded from behind Kel-var. A Shay guard, whose name he could not recall, approached with haste.

  “What is it?”

  The guard cleared his throat. “There’s a priority communication for you, sir.”

  “Gor-van?” Kel-var asked with a bored tone.

  The guard hesitated. “No, sir. It’s…”

  Kel-var swivelled on the guard. “I will take it in my office.” The Shay dismissed the guard and half ran, half walked to his office.

  The holographic emitters in his office were far too real for Kel-var’s liking. Pacing up and down, in front of his desk, Malekk never took his black eyes off the Shay.

  At last, he spoke. “I have received a data-packet from Gor-van Tanar.”

  Kel-var disguised his discomfort with a raised eyebrow. “Oh yes?”

  “When were you going to inform me that a hundred thousand more humans have entered the Conclave? Or that the Highclave has built a Starforge and Kalian Gaines has passed through it, to the Terran Empire?”

  Had Gor-van been sitting in the room with him, Kel-var would have killed him right there and then with his bare hands. It had always been an unspoken rule that Kel-var was to be the line of communication to the prophet, or Malekk, as he was all they were left with after the humans blew up the cube at Protocorps.

  “They are of little consequence.” Kel-var tried to act casual. “The humans are in their devolved state and pose no danger to our plans. They will die with the rest of them. And Kalian Gaines will likely never return from the Terran Empire. Our spies report that they didn’t even have a plan for getting themselves back to the Conclave.”

  “And what of the Starforge?” Malekk was standing still now, which
only worked to unnerve Kel-var all the more.

  “It is the first of its kind,” Kel-var explained. “The Highclave have already put plans in motion to erect surface-based Starforges on all the core worlds, it’s creating quite the stir. If anything, this will help us in the final stage, allowing for easy travel between worlds.”

  “Where did they learn to build such machines?” Malekk’s voice was not natural.

  “The AI, from the outpost on Naveen. It is from the -”

  “I know where it is from,” Malekk interrupted. “Is this ALF still in Conclave space, or has it fled with Kalian Gaines?” The holographic Terran approached Kel-var, walking right through his desk.

  “Yes, it is with Kalian. The AI is restricted to his exo-suit.” Kel-var could see the subtle changes across Malekk’s face. Even though his human features were hard for the Shay to read, he could see the concern creep across Malekk’s ruined face. “Is this a problem?”

  Malekk focused on Kel-var for a moment. “Rogue artificial intelligence is always a problem. Especially that one.”

  Kel-var scoffed in an attempt to downplay the level of danger posed to them. “I don’t think they can cause any disruption from the other side of the galaxy.” The Shay’s expression dropped under Malekk’s scrutiny. “Can they?”

  Malekk moved away. “They will be dealt with should they decide to meddle. For now, we will concentrate our efforts on the Conclave and the remaining humans. To that effect, my master wishes the Crucible to be tested. Should it fail to work in its moment of need, your race will never transcend. I trust you can see to it.”

  An idea was forming in Kel-var’s mind, an idea that would serve multiple purposes. “The human ship containing the new humans is currently undergoing repairs on the edge of Conclave space. A team of Shay engineers has been granted access…”

  “Align these goals and prove your worth, Tionis. Should either of us fail, the Vanguard will breach Conclave space and see to the humans' destruction personally. This will escalate events ahead of schedule and take away our element of surprise. This is not preferable, but inevitable should we fail. The Terran and their lineage must be wiped out.”

  “It will be done. However, the Crucible will require time to conduct an experiment on such a small scale. It was originally designed for a much larger activation.” Kel-var hated being the weakest person in a conversation and had to work at not fidgeting in his seat.

  “Just get it done.” Malekk looked about to leave when he turned back. “And I want the location of the Gomar, now.”

  “We’re working on…” Kel-var stopped speaking when the image of Malekk faded away.

  The Shay sat back in his chair and breathed a sigh of relief. He brought up the info on the four Shay engineers who had boarded the Paladin. Along with their personal details, Kel-var pulled up specific data pertaining to the operating implant inside their brains. The special microchip allowed the Shay to sync perfectly with their artificial limbs and attachments.

  This particular operating system had been mass produced and inserted into every Shay as a child. Thankfully, it was one of the hundreds of enhancements created for the Shay, as well as other species, and so had been overlooked by the Conclave’s investigative team. Even now, no one knew they were manufactured by Protocorps.

  Kel-var tapped the surface of his glass desk and waited for a response. “Prep the Crucible. I have four test subjects. Make certain to programme them for maximum destruction, I want them to kill everyone they see…”

  11

  Roland felt as if he were wearing a second skin, and technically he was, when he entered the Rackham’s hold in his usual floor length coat - made from an unknown animal with a brown hide. He enjoyed the weight of his dual Tri-rollers, nestled comfortably on either side of his thighs. Not one belt but two were wrapped around his waist, each stuffed with his favourite toys. He even had grav bombs strapped to his left arm, over the coat’s sleeve in case things got a little out of control. Roland really hoped things got out of control. There was nothing funnier than watching a group of mercenaries being flung around by fluctuating gravity fields.

  Using the flexi-screen, built into the sleeve on his right arm, Roland accessed the floor panel in the centre of the hold. The horizontal doors parted, hiding the dark stains of Shay blood, as the contents within rose up to meet the bounty hunter.

  “I can’t believe you’re actually going to go out on that deathtrap…” Ch’len had waddled up beside him, frowning at the machine before them.

  “I love the Hog!” Roland declared defensively. “You’re just jealous because you can’t ride it, on account of those teeny tiny legs of yours.”

  “It’s essentially an engine with a seat attached to it,” Ch’len observed, as he always did when the hoverbike came out.

  “Isn’t that the same as every ship in the galaxy?” Roland replied, checking the newest build-up of grime around the handlebars.

  “No!” Ch’len said in a condescending tone. “This is just where stupid meets moronic.” The Ch’kara held his hands out to encompass the bike. “There’s a reason they’re illegal. No sentient brain in the galaxy has the reflexes to successfully ride one of these things.”

  Roland stood back to take it all in, while ignoring every word that came out of Ch’len’s mouth. The Hog was yellow, or at least it had been when he acquired it, with a wide leather seat towards the back end. The front of the bike was all engine and a chunky one at that, with multiple exhausts and vents designed to keep the bike cool at high temperatures. There were no wheels to speak of, as the bike could hover above the ground up to thirty feet. Today he would be going no more than ten feet, in order to avoid detection.

  The bounty hunter lifted his leg and flicked his coat over the seat, getting comfy, since the ride to Gor-van’s safe house was several miles away. After a moment of searching, he found the dirty goggles hiding under the carriage and put them over his head. The adrenaline was already pumping in anticipation of the ride and the inevitable fight on the other end.

  Ch’len reached up on his tiptoes and depressed the button, activating the ramp. The sun was rising again, with Byzantial’s days only being thirteen hours long. Brilliant white light poured into the hold, creating silhouettes of everything. Beyond the ramp lay the sprawling desert of the Qelt Wastes, a flat, open land dotted with the tallest stalagmites Roland had ever seen.

  “If I’m not back by nightfall, I’m probably dead. So…” Roland met Ch’len’s tiny eyes, “you’ll probably die as well in the next few days.”

  Ch’len dashed to the Hog’s side. “Then why don’t you just give me the ignition codes for the Rackham and I can save myself.”

  Roland looked as if he were considering it. “Nah. I think I’ll hang onto those.” The bounty hunter tapped his temple with a smug smile on his face. “You should probably think about rationing. It’s a long walk back to civilisation.”

  Ch’len dropped his head, exhausted with the topic they had fought over many times before.

  Roland keyed the Hog’s ignition three or four times, before it finally came to life with a roar loud enough to knock Ch’len back a few steps. The bounty hunter laughed and removed a small hip flask from the inside pocket of his coat. The swig was warm and spicy, its alcoholic kick quick to set in.

  “Oh, that’ll help…” Ch’len rolled his eyes.

  “See you later, dipshit!” Roland pulled on the throttle and shot out of the Rackham’s hold.

  The journey was exhilarating, for about twenty minutes. After which, Roland lost all feeling in his ass and the goggles pressing into his eye sockets were beginning to hurt. The landscape didn’t get any more interesting either, with every rounded stalagmite giving way to more desert. He nearly killed himself evading the towering rocks, as his brain struggled to keep up with the rapidly approaching terrain. There were times in the flat areas where he was forced to slow down just so he could breathe.

  Roland dared to glance at the screen, situat
ed under his chin. The coordinates for the safe house was coming up, nestled in a canyon a half mile wide. The Hog chuddered to a stop, as Roland was aware of the dust cloud the bike spewed out of the back, visible from afar. It took several minutes for the feeling to return to his hands and for his legs to stop shaking.

  He rounded the last mound of stalagmites on foot and dropped to his knees behind a rock large enough to conceal him. Using a small pair of binoculars, the bounty hunter scouted the terrain. The building wasn’t much more than a two-storey shack. From this range, the binoculars were unable to probe the walls and highlight those within.

  “Time to set you little buggers free…” Roland retrieved the tracking spheres from his belt and poured them into the dusty ground. Using the flexi-screen on his forearm, the spheres were given the coordinates.

  Roland continued to scan the terrain for possible snipers, while the trackers crossed the distance to the shack. If there was anyone waiting for him out there, they were well hidden. A quiet alert notified him when the spheres were at the house, each separating and finding different ways inside. Once the building was breached, the trackers ran up walls and round objects until they had a collective view of both floors. A three-dimensional hologram rose above the flexi-screen and showed Roland what was going on inside.

  There were four armed beings inside, Shay by the looks of their artificial arms and legs, all with various attachments that clung to their faces. The one on the first floor was packing a larger weapon than the three downstairs. Sniper, then. The other three appeared to be playing some kind of game around a table, their weapons propped against the table legs. None of them were Gor-van.

  Roland had to think about his approach. If he went on foot the sniper would easily spot him and take the shot. If he commanded the trackers to find a target and self-destruct he would lose any element of surprise, since Gor-van had to be in the installation underneath the house.