by J. S. Fields
FOLLOWING THE OTHER group proved much easier than Arik had anticipated. Their route had obviously been closer to the central hub, as the body count increased the farther they went. After five minutes of winding around smoking corpses of guards and scientists, Kisak and Arik finally saw Tik’s backside jutting out through the opening of a double door.
Tik! Arik called. Our turn was a dead end. What did you find?
Tik was still visibly charged, but his body slumped when he turned, his long, thin arms hanging dead at his sides. Arik thought he remembered Tik having more color to his face, but the skin now was ashen. Want to know why there are so few staff here, Arik? Want to know why we were all shoved in that room together? Come see.
He moved to the side to allow Arik and Kisak entrance. Arik stepped down into the circular room, stepping over bodies. It was definitely the central communication hub. Seven desks sat in a circle around a large projector. Each of the chairs held a body except for the one Ukie sat on, its former occupant slumped on the floor, disemboweled. Kallik stood next to Ukie, looking vaguely sick. Above the desk, a screen hung suspended from the ceiling. Arik marveled at the finely woven cellulose that made the screen shimmer before realizing that a feed was playing.
Look familiar? Tik asked.
The common area. Arik returned. Where are the rest of us? Did they shove them all into the bedrooms? I can’t imagine everyone would fit.
No one answered. Instead, Ukie flicked the console, and the viewing angle changed. Now the screen showed the floor of the common room—a floor that wasn’t visible because covering every centimeter were the bodies of the other flares. Dried blood was visible near their mouths and noses. Not a single person was moving.
Kisak pushed Arik out of the way and stood as close to the screen as zie could. Arik could make out Waiketh’s form slumped in a corner, huddled next to two young second dons like himself. The edges of her mouth were stained maroon, as were patches of her clothes.
What happened in there? Arik demanded. We disabled all the guards between here and our rooms. Did they kill them remotely?! To himself, careful not to broadcast to the others, Arik offered up a small prayer. I’m sorry, Waiketh. May you be with the andal. May we see you again.
Kallik, trembling, tossed a rolled-up tablet to Kisak. Read for yourself. The Eld are trying to save energy before the move. Bringing only some of us here was their first cull. Those of us that made it here were randomly selected from our peers to be housed at this facility. We were all supposed to live here until after the move, when they’d redistribute us, but it seems something changed their minds. Instead, the Eld ordered complete termination. Didn’t even shoot them, although I can’t figure out how they died. It wasn’t chemically induced, of that I am sure. It’s more like someone reached into their bodies and pulled bits apart.
It felt colder in the hub, suddenly. Like someone had sucked the life from the station and left only dry air. Even titha were killed with more grace than the flares had been. The Eld regulated the slaughter of titha to ensure respectful treatment. This was…this was nothing. An absence of morality. A dismissal not only of sentience, but of inherent value. But it wasn’t something the Eld would just jump to, Arik surmised. Actions like this had to be built over time, or something had to press the issue. Something had forced the Eld’s hand in this, because no one was this callous. No one could be this callous. Right?
Arik tried to read the tablet over Kisak’s shoulder, but the text was too small to make out. Do we know what the catalyst was? he asked Kallik finally, giving up on the tablet.
Kallik’s bitter words echoed in his head. Yes, we do. Did you hear about the war the Charted Systems had? It wasn’t that long ago. The Mmnnuggls were part of it. She pointed to the tablet in Kisak’s hands. The Risalians were apparently sold some ‘sterilized’ versions of us, whatever that means. It looks like they figured out a way to reverse whatever the Eld did, because a flare, their word for us—a talking flare, I should add—is heading to Ardulum. The Eld are terrified. She’s trained, looks like, and powerful. Took out most of the Mmnnuggl fleet and a bunch of Systems ships.
A free flare. A trained flare. Ideas flew around Arik’s head faster than he could process them. The other flares were dead, simply discarded by the rulers they had all worshipped. There was majesty to the ancient andal—he’d never doubt that—but the Eld had clearly lost their course. As the only flares remaining, there was little the five of them could accomplish, little they could do to right this injustice. Not without training. But this new flare, this talking flare…that was promising.
Ukie, Arik asked. Do you know where the foreign flare is now?
Ukie tapped the interface again. Her shoulders sagged before she turned back to face him. She’s on her way to Ardulum.
Great. She’s walking right into their waiting syringes. Kallik snorted.
There was no time to debate. No time to discuss. If they were going to change anything on Ardulum, it had to be now. We have to get to her, Arik said. Fast. If she knows how to use her Talents—really use them—we need her. This has to stop. The Eld have to go. He pulled up his shirt sleeve, exposing hundreds of black veins streaking across translucent, yellow skin. We have multiple Talents. If anyone is qualified to lead Ardulum, it’s us. It should be us, because we have seen what happens when others try. We can never let flare containment happen again. We will lead Ardulum. That foreign flare is our key.
Well, unless we have the capability for matter transport, there is no way we can get to her anytime soon. Ukie pointed to the hanging screen, which now showed a topographic map of their current location and the kilometers of water that rested on top of them. Over the water was a contiguous landmass, with an opening large enough to fit a small dive ship and nothing else.
Arik studied the image, considering. The Eld really don’t take chances, do they?
The next submarine doesn’t arrive for three days. There aren’t any spares docked at the station. We’re stranded here, and if the warnings that went off when Kallik connected with the console were sent to the Eld…that submarine may never come.
On the upside, Tik said, his voice devoid of humor, by our count, we five are now the only living things left in this station.
Arik’s anger turned desperate. Can’t we just… He searched for ideas. Can we dig the station out? Float to the surface? Blast out with rockets or something? There has to be a way.
Kisak grunted. Maybe, if any of us had some level of training.
Tik straightened, a smile creeping across his face. He moved between Kisak and Arik, placing an arm around each of them. My family works in spaceship tech I’ve been building rockets and fuel cells since I could walk. How about we raid a few laboratories and see what kinds of chemicals the good scientists have here?
Chapter 18: Neek
The planet Neek has officially withdrawn from the Charted Systems. Remove all Risalian sheriffs from the area and post a sentry at the entrance to the Neek Wormhole. Monitor all traffic in the Alusian System. Additional forces will be arriving shortly.
—Communication from the Markin Council to the Risalian fleet, December 18th, 2060 CE
“WE’RE HERE,” MIKETH announced.
Ekimet watched the star field slow as the yellow and red swirls of the planet Neek came into view. Zie rubbed zir temples with zir palms, wishing the headache zie had had since the bird incident would go away. It had to have done something to Ekimet’s hearing as well, because Ekimet couldn’t seem to shake a persistent snapping sound, like branches cracking off in a storm. Maybe zie was just tired. They’d been put on their skiff so fast zie hadn’t even had time for a shower or change of clothes—they’d had to don their golden robes directly over their flight suits, which made for uncomfortable sitting with so much bunched fabric in their way.
“Are you ready for first contact?” Miketh prodded. “It’s been forever since an Ardulan was last here, and the Neek are still at least a century behind our technology. This is
going to take some finesse.”
“I’m prepared,” Ekimet responded, more confidently than zie felt. “Just remember to leave the talking to me. This species is religiously delicate. Get their ships and defenses up to speed. Everything else is my purview.”
Miketh nodded and fiddled with the interface. “You know that if the Eld were serious about building a defense force here, they’d have sent us with Aggression and Science Talents. Asking a Mind and Hearth to do this job alone…these people will be slaughtered. I realize that will placate the Mmnnuggls and keep the conflict from Ardulum, but it’s a pretty harsh deal for the Neek. They could have at least chosen a species we weren’t related to.”
A thin, green line shot across the front console, distracting Ekimet before zie could reply.
“We were just hailed by what appears to be some type of customs official. There is a small fleet of skiffs on the other side of the planet, but the hail came from the surface.” Ekimet watched Miketh’s hand hover over the console, a slight shiver giving away her apprehension.
“Go ahead and answer it. I’m ready.” Zie ran a hand down the front of zir robe, smoothing the wrinkles. Fashion had been very different the last time Ardulum had come this way, and Ekimet wanted to be as historically accurate as possible. Still, it put zir on edge to wear Eld robe colors, even if everyone had worn them in centuries past.
There was a brief flash of static, and then an image of a bored Neek filled the screen. The man’s eyes—at least, Ekimet assumed they were male—were puffy and bloodshot. Combined with the thin sheen of stuk that glistened on the man’s forehead, Ekimet concluded visitors, especially high-ranking ones, did not often visit the planet.
“State your business on Neek,” the man said in the popping sounds of the Neek language, not bothering to look up. A small pendant bobbed on the male’s neck—a tiny wood sphere suspended on a silver chain.
Ekimet chose zir words carefully, not wanting to make a mistake in a language zie was not entirely comfortable with.
“Your planet sleeps, Neek. Your andal wilts. The Charted Systems move against us, and so, too, they move against you.” Ekimet looked sternly at Miketh, concerned that her stifled chortling could be heard over the audio. “We do not forget our children. We have heard the cries of your religious leaders, and we have come to answer them.”
Slowly, the Neek’s head rose. He studied Ekimet without speaking, mouth slightly agape. “I’m sorry,” the man said, his voice thick. “You’re here to…to what now?”
Ekimet was prepared. Zie stood and let the robe fall from zir left shoulder, where zie had already peeled away the flight suit, revealing the black outlines of four perfectly aligned hexagons. “I am Ekimet, second-don Hearth. Traveling with me is Miketh, a third-don Mind Talent. The Eld have sent us to Neek. We have been sent to aid you.”
“Andal help us,” the man breathed. His fingers flew across the screen, thin trails of stuk left in their wake. “Forgiveness, please, Ekimet and Miketh. The day is long. I should have recognized you. Why didn’t I recognize you?” The man started babbling as he futzed with controls just below view. “I’ve contacted the High Priest of Neek. I’m sure you know, but we’ve had some reorganization as of late.” A chime and several short beeps sounded from the Neek’s console. “He’ll meet you when you land. Your clearance is all set.” The man took a number of shallow breaths and finally managed to close his mouth.
“We still require landing coordinates,” Ekimet prodded.
The man’s eyes flew wide open, and he smacked the screen. “Of course! I’m so sorry. Forgive me. There, sending now.”
Ekimet looked to zir left and saw the confirmation nod from Miketh. “Thank you so much for your help, dear Neek. I am certain we will see you again.”
The man puffed with pleasure but wisely refrained from talking. The connection terminated.
“How do you keep a straight face when you talk like that?” Miketh asked as she sent the navigation instructions to the computer. “I’d rather sheer a titha than keep up that façade.”
“At least the Neek respect all of us.” Ekimet sat back down and watched the thick clouds move past the viewscreen as the ship descended to the planet’s surface. “They have a third gender here, too, with similar breeding mores. I’d rather be a god than have fruit pelted at me.”
“Let’s see if you change your mind after some time on-planet,” Miketh said dourly. The ship gave the slightest jostle, and then the boarding hatch opened, sending sunlight streaming into the cockpit. “At least it smells better than Ggllot.”
Ekimet stood, rearranged the collar of zir robe, and then stepped from the ship onto a wooden landing pad. Just beyond, an older male in similarly styled gold robes waited, flanked by a group of Neek bedecked in gold and green. Crimson settees sat in an arc behind the group, the nose of each tilted ever so slightly upwards, towards the heavens.
The old man took two steps forward, but then hesitated. Miketh gave Ekimet a nudge with her elbow. They’re waiting for you.
Embarrassed, Ekimet took a deep breath, clasped zir hands behind zir back, and stepped forward into the sunlight. “Children of Neek.” Zir voice boomed across the landing pad. “We have returned.”
Chapter 19: Research Station K47, Ardulum
Tolerate no imperfection. Strive past your limits. Find within yourself the capacity for greatness. You are not tied to this world. You are not tied to your old ways. You are Neek, but this does not always have to be so.
—Excerpt from The Book of the Uplifting, original edition
WE ARE EITHER going to kill ourselves instantaneously, or die a long, painful death from pressure changes, Kisak muttered. This plan is terrible.
We are going to die one way or the other, Arik countered. We’ll not leave you here to starve to death. You deserve more than that. We all deserve more than that. He pointed to the large pile of glass drums filled with dichloromethane, all propped against the copper wall of the central core. This does have a reasonable chance of working. Also— He tugged on the sleeve of Kisak’s wet suit, the cellulose fiber reinforcements coarse against his fingers. This should help deal with the water. The inside tag says they are rated for this depth as long as you make sure there are no open seams between pieces.
Arik heard wisps of grumbling in his mind as the gatoi latched the helmet onto zir suit and powered the flow of oxygen. Arik sent reassurance. This escape was daunting for all of them, but Kisak’s age—combined with zir early life as a protected gender—would make the journey much more difficult for zir. Gatois seldom engaged in manual labor or strenuous activities unless they specifically requested them. The escape might be beyond Kisak’s developed abilities.
Turn the heat on, too, or you’ll freeze to death, he reminded the gatoi. The switch is in the left armpit.
Kisak’s mental tone became a growl. So let’s say that stupid organic solvent does corrode at an acceptable rate and we get our exit hole. Then what? We are underground, not just underwater. How do we break the surface?
I can answer that one. Ukie shuffled forward, her face obscured by the dense vein work of cellulose on her helmet. I just finished sifting through the records in the computer about our location. There’s a small fishing village not far from here, where the supplies for the station are purchased. There’s a one-kilometer break in the bi-layer two meters west of our current location, which is the only route the ships can take to access the village. It was extensively detailed on that map we pulled earlier.
We just need to aim ourselves up and a bit west, Arik sent. If you miss the opening, in theory you can use the compass in the suit to navigate in the right direction. To himself, Arik added that, if they died in the attempt, at least it would probably be quick, unlike the slow, lingering death that awaited them in the station. Let’s get to the surface, and we can plan from there.
Everyone ready, then? Tik glanced around and received a nod from each of the flares before snapping his own helmet on. Using his right
hand, he picked up a flask of water with a rubber stopper. Okay, everyone back to the far wall. If something sparks, we’re all in trouble. I’ll let you know when it is safe to venture through the hole.
Tik gave the stopper another firm push and then threw the flask at the farthest drum. The glass on both vessels broke. The dichloromethane mixed with the water and both seeped onto the wall, corroding the surface and allowing the ocean to pour in. Well, trickle in. The corrosion was slower than Arik had hoped, which meant more time to wallow in nervousness. He would have preferred using the extra air tanks as propulsion and just exiting out a door, but Tik was right. They needed a much more powerful boost to reach the surface. In theory, the suits could handle a quick change in pressure, but that, too, remained to be seen.
Get ready, Tik said as the hole widened from the size of a fingernail to the size of a fist. We have to get out the moment the hole is big enough. Don’t dawdle. Once the corrosion reaches the nitric acid in the main console, this whole place is going to explode. We need to be far enough away that we can ride the force without being torn apart. The cellulose in the suits makes them sturdy, but not enough to deal with a direct blast.
The hole was growing faster now, the degradation of the copper increasing exponentially as more water entered in from the ocean. The trickle became a stream, knocking a drum into another and shattering both. After that, the reaction went much more quickly. The wall disappeared handspans at a time. Arik looked back at the wood barrier they’d built around the console. It was holding back the mix of water and chemicals for now, but he didn’t think it would last much longer. Even he was having a hard time standing upright as the water beat against him.
Now! Tik shouted. He dove down and forced himself against the rush of the water. Ukie swam behind him and pushed him out, bracing herself against a quickly corroding wall.