The Survivors | Book 15 | New Beginning

by Hystad, Nathan

  Jules was surprised by how astute the woman was, and shook her head, trying to act naïve. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re helping Patty settle at her new home. You know, after all the stuff with the Zan’ra and O’ri.”

  Suma’s eyes narrowed, and her snout shifted to the side. “Okay, but if you’re doing anything suspicious, be careful. If something happens to you or Dean, it’ll be my head on a platter.”

  Jules swallowed, trying not to show how nervous Papa’s old friend was making her. “You don’t have to worry about us, Suma.”

  “Good. Come on, they’re waiting.”

  Ten minutes later, they were all in the stark white portal room on Shimmal, and Jules recalled being in that very space only a couple of short weeks ago with Suma, but not this version of her. They’d been in an alternate dimension, with the threat of attack looming over their heads. Jules glanced around at how peaceful it was here, and how at ease the Shimmal people were. It was a far cry from the timeline she’d brought Magnus from.

  Perhaps it was the fact that her father, Dean Parker, was a Recaster. That this dimension was the center of it all. It made Jules feel an extra burden to be stronger. Since her return, she’d been so lost without her powers.

  She’d been able to float and perform wonderful feats since before she could talk, which was why it felt like a major sense had been torn from her, leaving her hollow. She watched Dean as they exited into the hallway. He was tall and handsome, so sure of himself. He’d never needed powers, but here he was, confident and capable.

  “Come, we’ll show you the facility, and then you can have some time with your brother and Jules before you start work,” Sarlun said. They walked past his office, and Jules had an idea.

  “Sarlun, Papa once told me about a special room full of antiquities and artifacts from around the universe.” Jules saw his expression change from affable to questioning. She’d always wanted to visit the place, but suddenly, something inside her demanded she ask to see it.

  “What of it?”

  “Could we check it out?” she asked.

  He glanced at Suma, who shrugged, and finally surrendered. “Why not? This way.”

  He used a private code, and the door slid open, revealing a dark chamber full of shelving and thousands of relics. The lights came on as Jules stepped forward, and a thrill ran through her veins. This was special.

  “It reminds me of Fontem’s collection. His secret one.” She’d never forget that place, or the fact that Fontem had abandoned them, begging the Deity to return him for another blissful redo with his wife. Even though he’d deceived them, she was glad the Terellion had comfort again and had finally met his life’s goal of returning to his paramour.

  Dean dropped his bag to the ground and quickly strode to the first shelf, trying to touch a wooden gun. An energy barrier blocked him. “Don’t bother reaching for anything.” Sarlun stepped beside Dean, stretching his hand out. It cleared the barrier, and he passed Dean the weapon. “Only I can access any of the treasures.”

  “What is this?” Dean asked as he hefted the object in his grip.

  “From the ancient Balzeki tribe of Ewentro. They died out millions of years ago. They lived in treetops, and with no mineral resources, they managed to make everything from wood. They respected their homes and land and would carve as little as possible, never harming the trees beyond repair,” Sarlun told them.

  “They made guns?”

  “Correct. They were invaded by a ground-dwelling race, and the wars went on for decades, each side advancing and being sent home wounded. Eventually, both populations were too devastated to continue, and a third race, a water-compatible people, took over the entire world. Quite the tale.” Sarlun accepted the gun and returned it to its home on the shelves.

  Jules and Patty walked through the rows, stopping to stare at beautiful items when they caught their eyes. Her mind tingled as she rounded a corner, and the moment she viewed the item, she nearly froze in position. “Sarlun, can you show me that?”

  It was the size of a baseball and had ornate gemstones embedded in intricate patterns along the outer shell.

  “I have a lot of items with no discernable origin, and that is one of them,” he said. “Do you recognize it?”

  Jules did but wasn’t sure how. It was like she was having déjà vu but couldn’t recall where she’d seen it before. She only nodded, unable to speak at first.

  “Ju, are you okay?” Dean asked, breaking the spell.

  “It’s… I think it has something to do with the Deities,” she told them. “I can’t remember, but I know it.”

  Sarlun looked intrigued, and he grabbed the ball, rotating it in front of his eyes. “We ran it through every test we could, and as far as I can tell, it’s nothing more than a hollow sphere with fancy gems. Would you like it, Jules? I can’t see a better owner, especially if it has some connection with your heritage.” He held it out, and her arms remained long at her sides.

  “It’s not my heritage,” she mumbled.

  “I didn’t mean to offend. If you’d prefer, I can return it…”

  “No. I’ll take it,” she said quietly. The ball wasn’t heavy, weighing less than something of its size should, and she stared at it, the light reflecting from clear gemstones into her eyes.

  “Can I have something cool too?” Patty asked, and Dean laughed.

  “I think not, child. Let’s go. We have much to show you today, and I don’t want the rest of your peers to believe you’re getting special treatment.” Sarlun led them out of the room, and Jules held the sphere tightly, unable to focus on anything but the object in her grip.

  ____________

  “What did you find?” I asked Regnig.

  Books and tablets were spread across Karo’s kitchen table, and I’d never seen Regnig so excited. His tongue jutted from his open beak as he flapped a wing in annoyance. There was far more information on the subject than I’d ever anticipated. I had ten students working twelve-hour days to sift through it all, but I think we’re getting close to something.

  “To what?” Slate asked.

  To the truth. Regnig opened one of the texts, an archaic leather-bound book with a heavily frayed spine. Once we looked into abductions similar to what the humans of Earth reported for the last century, we found at least fifty other cultures with the same scenarios. Most of them were recorded before interstellar space travel. Many were from tribes so old, we’d all but forgotten them.

  “How old?” I sat beside Karo, who listened with interest. The Theos had been around a long time, and it always surprised me to hear how many races had come and gone before them. The universe was ever changing.

  That is undeterminable in some cases, but I think many were millions or perhaps billions of years ago. This text was found preserved in ice a thousand years ago, and I came across it from a special collector when I was first starting out. I never expected to find something useful from it.

  “And what did you discover?” Karo asked. Ableen had gone to the city, and the kids were at the academy with Hugo, leaving the four of us alone in the usually hectic household.

  The claws were mentioned. Let me translate the text. Regnig closed his beak, and his talon settled on the page. The lights were unmistakable in their uniqueness. I had never seen such a beam, like the sky was on fire. I feared I was dead, but the shape emerged from a puff of smoke. I awoke somewhere foreign, but my memory is foggy. I was returned and was found two days later in a field near home, with little recollection of the events, save what I’ve recorded here.

  I tapped the table with a knuckle. “Sound familiar?”

  Slate’s fingers wrapped around his cup of coffee. “Why do I get the feeling like this isn’t the end of the story?”

  Regnig nodded, flipping to the end of the text. He talks about the history of his people further on, and we learn he was an important man among his race. A leader, a shaman, perhaps. But it all changes eventually. Let me read it.

&nbs
p; I am not myself. I have impulses and woke this morning drenched in sweat, memories of the light and that room in the clouds filling my head. I tasted blood in my mouth, and now I cannot return. They are demanding, the voices. I must kill.

  Regnig looked up at us, his eyeball wide and unblinking. Should I continue?

  “How bad is it?” I asked him.

  Bad. The last section is written in a different ink, and I think if I were to test it, we’d find it was drawn in blood. He tells a horrific story of massacring his people. Then he professes to have an awareness of it and claims he is going to end it all. The voices were too much.

  “So did he?” Slate wouldn’t look me in the eyes as he spoke.

  Regnig shut the book as he shook his head. We cannot know that, but I presume he did.

  “What good does this do? We know these beings have abducted people across the galaxies for a very long time. We know they’re still doing it. What we don’t know is where they come from. That’s the key, right?” Karo asked.

  “Correct. Regnig, we can keep reading about different instances of it, but what we need is some proof of the aliens and their craft. Is there any record…”

  Regnig held a tablet and cut me off as he stood on the chair. These people claim to have one of the ships.

  “They do?” Slate almost knocked his chair over. “Where are they?”

  I fear they’ve been extinct for a long time. But we’ve secured their location.

  “This is it, Boss. Regnig, tell us everything,” Slate said.

  “Even if we find this planet, what good will it do if they’re gone?” I watched my friend, hoping his excitement would remain intact.

  That didn’t seem to deter Slate one bit. “Then we find the damned ship and see who built it. Surely there’ll be something in it we can use to track them.”

  I considered this and agreed, since we had no other leads. “Is there a portal on this planet?”

  Conveniently, there is.

  “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s suit up and take a trip.” I stood, thanking Regnig for all his work on the subject. “If you find anything else, let us know.”

  Be cautious. From what I’ve read, Puver isn’t the most hospitable environment. The Grinlo were a strange people, and it’s on the no-travel list for the Gatekeepers, but we’re unsure why. The records are minimal at best. None have attempted to travel there in the last two hundred years.

  With so many new portal worlds being opened up since Jules had fixed the network, this news wasn’t shocking. “We’ll be careful, won’t we, Slate?”

  “Sure thing, Boss. Karo, you want to join us?” he asked the Theos.

  “I better not. Someone has to be here when the kids return from school.” Karo crossed his arms, staying at the table with Regnig.

  We said our goodbyes, and I had to jog to keep up to Slate as he rushed for the transport. “I don’t think the planet is going anywhere.”

  “I know, but did you hear that guy’s account? I don’t want to end up like him.” Slate ran into the ship, powering it to life before I’d even closed the doors. We lifted from the ground quickly as Slate aimed us for Haven’s portal.

  I could only hope there was some evidence of a clue from the Grinlo people.

  Ten

  Even though I was used to wearing our space suits, the air felt thin as we stepped into Puver’s Shandra room. Slate was himself: confident and ready for action.

  Considering how long it had been since anyone had used the portal here, the space was tidy, a gentle layer of dull dust lingering on the stone floor. Wooden beams braced the corners of the room, and an open archway led to a corridor beyond.

  Slate and I each held our pulse rifles, and he waved his forward, stepping for the exit. Just because the locals were dead didn’t mean there weren’t predators nearby.

  We walked through thick cobwebs, using our rifles’ lights to guide our way through the winding path. With no options, we kept stalking the corridor until we ultimately found a clearing. The sky was bleak, dark gray clouds hung low and heavy, but the ground was completely dry. We were up a hillside, on a cliff that overlooked a valley of dust and despair. I couldn’t see a single speck of vegetation, and the ground was cracked, fissures spreading and dancing in every direction.

  “Nice place,” Slate muttered.

  “I can see why no one would want to visit.” I glanced to the sky again, remembering Jules telling me about the dragon-like monsters from her search for Dean and Patty. There were no such creatures above.

  Slate pulled his tablet out, flipping to the crude map Regnig had sent. It showed the portal and our destination plotted. On the image, it appeared close, but it was over forty kilometers from our current position.

  “Good thing we brought the jetpacks.” Slate smirked from behind his helmet’s mask, and I double-checked my straps, making sure they were secured.

  “After you,” I told him, and he manipulated the hand controls, sending himself into the air. I didn’t love flying these things, but they were the most compact and fastest form of travel when utilizing the portals.

  His jetpack’s thrusters burned brightly, and I kicked mine on, jolting at the sudden explosion behind me. My feet lifted from the ground, and I focused on our destination.

  As we traveled a few hundred yards in the air, we passed by more of the same terrain. While we went, I used my suit’s exosensors to determine the gravity levels and air composition. This place would kill us quickly without our oxygen tanks, so there would be no room for error. Gravity was slightly higher than we were used to, but nothing drastic.

  “Boss, check it out!” Slate called into my earpiece, and I followed his pointed finger to the landscape below. A dozen animals ran through the rocky breadth, a trail of dust agitated behind them.

  Life continued to exist on this barren planet. I admired their strength as I watched the four-legged animals trample over the ground. They moved almost as fast as us, and I slowed, keeping pace with them, as well as modifying my trajectory to follow their path.

  Slate did the same, and we tracked them for a good five minutes before I understood what we were witnessing. “They’re being directed.” It became obvious. Something was stalking them, and they were purposely being herded to a cliffside. The pack slowed as they neared the wall, unsure which direction to take, but it didn’t matter. Two more of the hunters appeared, one on each end of the cliff’s bottom, trapping the animals.

  The hunters were enormous and moved on two legs.

  “Are those weapons?” Slate asked as I tapped my helmet’s zooming feature to check.

  The creatures were nearly ten feet tall, with legs like tree trunks and arms to match. They were gray, with pale scars depicting images on their skin. At first glance, I thought their heads were monstrous, with narrow eyes and giant teeth, but quickly realized they were wearing animal masks, likely created from kills they’d made.

  “How did they move so fast?” I asked, and they answered my question.

  One of the pack made a break for it, dashing away from the others. It looked young, similar to a brave deer leaping from a wolf. A hunter started after it, loping with its arms, moving faster than anything I’d ever seen. It was almost a blur, and soon it caught the victim, pulled a curved blade from its belt, and jammed it into the animal’s ribcage.

  “That was brutal,” Slate whispered.

  “Let’s get the hell out of here.” It wasn’t our place to intervene with nature, especially on Puver. We adjusted our trajectory again, but as I was about to kick my jetpack into high gear, one of the hunters peered toward the sky. “They saw us.”

  Slate squinted at me, his expression dark behind his helmet. “Then we’d better leave.”

  I swore I heard them howling in the distance as we raced from the scene.

  The rest of the forty kilometers went by without a hitch. We witnessed endless wildlife as we flew. A herd of long-necked, giraffe-like creatures drank water from a mostly dried-up ri
verbed, but they were a dusty brown color, no spots to be seen.

  The first signs of the once prevalent settlement emerged two kilometers from the city limits. Slate noticed the glint of metal protruding from the dirt, and we began our descent. We landed near the outskirts of the Grinlo city and powered off our jetpacks.

  Slate ran to the top of the structure. “Looks like they’ve been here a while. How long do you think it takes for a city to be buried under the dirt like this?”

  I peered over the landscape, noticing more points jutting from the ground. “Centuries.”

  “The destination is that way.” He pointed to my right, where the system’s pale star was moving behind the horizon. We’d be out of light soon.

  “We should wait until tomorrow,” I suggested.

  “Boss, I really don’t think…”

  A howl cut through the air, making Slate stiffen, clutching his pulse rifle. “Maybe I’m wrong.” He moved for the nearest building and set a gloved palm on it. The structure was covered in dust, and he wiped at it, years of caked grime dropping to the ground. The place was square, with a pointed peak twenty yards up. I wondered how deep this place was buried. It was impossible to tell.

  “There must be an entrance. A window, maybe.” I walked around the top floor. By the time we’d scraped off enough crusted soil and sand to find a window, the sun had fully set, leaving us in the dark.

  “What do you think? Break it?” Slate asked. Another howl carried to us, but this one sounded further away. I thought about that huge monster chasing its prey, and nodded. Slate made quick work of the pane, cleaning the shards off before climbing inside. The place had been sealed for years, hundreds probably.

  With my helmet’s lights on, I entered behind Slate, careful not to pierce my suit on any debris. Slate was already halfway into the room, scanning it with his rifle raised.

  “All clear,” he said firmly, and moved for a doorway. There was no slab, just a square opening. I gawked at the floor and told Slate to hold up.