Aspirant: A Sci-Fi Harem Adventure

by Whittaker, Maxx

  I rub my fingers. “Had to try.”

  This time when we slap our hands to the plate, there’s no fear in us.

  We’re ready.

  8

  Chamber 3

  Aspirant #2239

  Room Timer: 00:20:00

  We land in a forest glade.

  There’s a drop of a half foot as we step through the doorway, and Mika stumbles. I take her arm to steady her, but she barely notices.

  I don’t blame her. This place is gorgeous.

  It’s like every picture I’ve ever seen on the internet of a Nordic country; mighty trees waving in a lazy breeze, their green leaves and needles a wall so solid I can’t see fifteen feet into the forest beyond; mountains jutting like massive teeth, capped by snow that disappears into piles of mashed potato clouds; a sky so cerulean blue that I feel like I could fall off the face of the world if I look straight up. The wind sighs through the trees, carrying birdsong that ebbs and flows, ghostly music.

  “It’s beautiful…” Mika pulls away from me, takes a few steps, and plucks a flower from the clearing floor. It’s yellow and red, and despite the feeling that this place could be on Earth, something about the plant looks alien.

  “Incredible,” I say, taking it from her. I take a deep sniff; it smells like cotton candy. “But also, like everything else about this place, really weird.”

  “More holodeck fuckery. Images from our minds, but incomplete, or wrong.” She points out a nearby tree, whose bark is, for some reason, moving.

  I remember the orc, the dungeon, how generic they were, even if they were terrifying. I guess this makes sense, if whoever created this place scrubbed our minds for inspiration. If neither of us had ever been to a place like this, they’d have to make some shit up. “So, it’s fake.”

  “Yeah. I don’t mind, though.” She takes a long breath, inhaling air that carries the scents of clean sap and soft loam. She wriggles her toes in the rough grass at our feet, and sighs happily. “After puzzle chambers and dark dungeons, this is lovely.” She eyes me, a sad turn to her lips. “I wish we could have a picnic, right here, and forget about all this.”

  “That would be… really nice.”

  She holds up her wrist, stares at the dwindling timer for a moment. “After. Take me someplace like this? If we… If we make it out the other side?”

  I take her wrist and lower it, hiding the display. “Yes.”

  She sighs, then hefts her staff. “Wonder if I should test this thing out before we get started.”

  “Start what?” I turn a slow circle. There’s one exit to the clearing, but other than that, there’s nothing, no indication what we should be doing. “Timer’s longer than normal, which makes me think the door out is somewhere else.”

  “Good point. Seems pretty clear which way we’re supposed to go.” She points her staff toward the break in the clearing.

  “Yeah, let’s hustle. Getting tired of last-minute escapes, already.”

  She laughs as we start off. “Right? You watch movies and they always stop the bomb timer with one second left. I thought that was so unrealistic.”

  “Seems like a lot less bullshit when you’re living it.”

  “Definitely,” she says fervently.

  We make good time through the forest, along a long, treeless furrow that cuts a straight line along our path. In the real world, this could never exist unless it was manmade. Now, it’s a peaceful road, breathtaking and relaxing.

  Which is exactly why I don’t let my mind drift, or my attention wane. I don’t know if werewolves are going to pop from the trees or if a pit of snakes will open beneath our feet, but whatever’s coming, I’ll be ready. My new weapon is a comfort, and I lift it as we walk, examine it.

  It glows, just faintly, in a few spots; little lines that look like LED’s. I don’t see any use for them, but they look pretty damned cool running along the barrel and twined around the grip. There’s a little switch near the trigger, two symbols with a dial between that I’m pretty sure is the safety. Mostly because one symbol is a skull and the other is a baby.

  I lift it high enough for Mika to see. Her mouth quirks. “Hah, cheeky.”

  I flip to the skull but remember my trigger discipline and keep my finger the hell away from anyplace I could accidentally fire. “Target practice?” She asks.

  “Maybe not yet,” I say, eyeing the trees. “I have no idea what this thing actually does. I’m assuming this place wouldn’t have given it to me as an option if it didn’t make things dead real nice, but if I pull the trigger and it spits fireballs, well…”

  “What, don’t want to add running from for our lives from a forest fire to the list of attractions?”

  “Yeah, probably not.”

  Mika chuckles, lifts her staff. The gem’s glow is so powerful that even in the blinding sun, it’s easily visible as it rotates like a tiny ember.

  “You should really name that thing.”

  “What?”

  “You know,” I say, waving vaguely. “Powerful weapons always have names. Foehammer! Orcsbane!”

  I expect her to laugh, but instead her eyes go far away, considering. I’m joking, teasing her, but when she smiles and whispers ‘Inferno’ I don’t dare say so.

  “Not bad. Gonna be a little awkward if it doesn’t shoot fire, though.”

  Her grin is wicked. “Oh, it does. I can feel it.”

  “Feel it? How?”

  “Magic? Not sure. Here, see if you feel anything.”

  She hands it to me, and I’m surprised by its heft, far heavier than my rifle. “Damn, you’re gonna get some guns, handling this thing.”

  She pokes her bicep, frowning. “I could use some.”

  “Shut up. You’re hot as hell, no pun intended. Also, what the shit?”

  “What?” She says, but her eyes widen as she realizes the gem’s glow is waning, disappearing. Over a few seconds, it vanishes entirely, and its rotation slows. Finally, it settles back into the head of the staff, completely dead.

  “Uh, I hope I didn’t kill it.”

  “Hm.” She takes it back, and instantly, it lights back up, reigniting. “Interesting. And don’t think I missed that compliment, buddy.” She winks.

  “Wouldn’t think of it. So, what I’m getting is, make you start the campfire if we need one.”

  “Whoa there, hero.”

  “Oh, chivalry ain’t dead. I’ll even let you gather the firewood.”

  “Hah. Hey, let me see your gun a sec.”

  I hand it to her. The second my fingers leave the grip its LEDs die. The hum inside stops.

  “Good to know,” I say, taking it back. “No switching weapons.”

  Mika nods. “No swapping load-outs till the end of the game. And I think we found our destination.”

  Ahead sits another clearing, larger than the first. And at its center is… “Is that an arena?”

  “Looks like it.” Mika holds her staff closer.

  It sits among the trees like the Coliseum, made from a solid block of dark marble. An entrance gapes wide, inviting us in the worst way. Above it, pillars tower from its walls, anchoring flowing orange and blue awnings that wave us on. Or warn us away.

  No guards stand at its gates, waiting to take us inside. In fact, there are no signs of life at all.

  “Bizarre,” Mika whispers. “I mean, it looks kind of Roman? But in the middle of a forest like this? And the architecture is… alien. Like space alien”

  “Even stranger,” I say as we pass into the clearing, “I’m like a hundred percent sure this wasn’t here a minute ago.”

  “No, you’re right.” She turns and gasps. “The path!”

  It’s gone. A solid line of trees, huge oaks like prison bars stretch behind us. “As usual, everything’s wack.”

  “Nothing about this makes sense,” Mika finishes, and though she’s so much calmer than when we were first taken here, I can tell she’s freaked. “Why even make us walk here if this was our goal all along?” />
  “Another test?” High above us, and ink blot of birds wing their way across the perfect sky, the first signs of life we’ve seen. At least, animal life. The wind picks up and dies, rustling the thousands of leaves around us like an ocean’s current. “Remember what you said about the picnic?”

  Her eyes are haunted. “Yeah?”

  “Temptation. To stay here. To give up.”

  “Damn. When we got here… I almost suggested it. I mean, it’s so beautiful. To stay in a place like this, with you…”

  “I know. I wonder if anyone’s been here before us? I wonder if others have been brought, and have succumbed? Even knowing that the Shepherd would come?”

  “I never would,” she says, firming. “You owe me a date now. Gotta collect.”

  “Damn straight,” I say, hefting my rifle and flipping the safety back to armed. “Got fifteen minutes left. Let’s see what this place has waiting for us.”

  The walk into the arena is terrifying and anticlimactic, by turns. We pass through the dark marble gate, and as soon as we cross the threshold, massive iron bars slam into the earth, blocking our escape. It scares the shit out of me, and I yelp, jumping forward.

  I’m saved from embarrassment by the fact that Mika’s shriek is louder than mine. But barely. We turn a slow circle, back to back, waiting for ambush, for something to come screaming down the tunnel.

  There’s nothing. Nothing but the whisper of distant trees.

  “Heh,” I say.

  “I won’t tell if you don’t,” she says.

  “Deal.”

  We continue, passing into the arena itself. It’s as bizarre as the rest of it; a wall at least ten-foot-high circles the field, and above it, seating for thousands stretches high. Everything is hewn from the same dark marble, and if not for the fact that it’s midday, I wouldn’t be able to make out details at all. All the features I’d expect from a Roman arena are present; elevated seating for the rich and elite, and even better seating for nobility. Huge arches that tunnel into darkness swallow pathways cut through the seats; access for no one. Above it all, the columns tower, challenging the sky, impossibly tall.

  In fact… “There’s no way this place was this big from the outside.”

  “I was just thinking the same thing,” Mika says. “Just didn’t want to say it because I’m already about to have a panic attack.”

  “Where is everyone?” The place is entirely deserted, as still as death. Perfectly rendered with room for thousands, and not a soul in sight. The sand below our feet is flat, unmarred by wind or the passage of anything living. Until us. “This is creeping me the fuck out.”

  Mika’s hand finds mine, and our fingers twine. “Me too.”

  We near the center of the arena. Jutting from the unbroken sand is a round dais, about a foot high. Made of the same dark marble as the rest of the place, but something about it seems different. “I think its… Glowing?”

  Mika casts me a sharp glance. “It is. Well, symbols around the outside of it are. Maybe you’re starting to be able to see them?”

  I squint, kneel to get a better look. “I don’t see a pattern, or any kind of symbol.”

  “I do. White glow, like before.”

  “What do the symbols say?”

  Mika squats next to me, tracing the base of the dais. “I don’t actually know what they say; it’s more of an impression. Almost emotion.”

  I put two fingers to my temple, pitch my voice up. “Captain, the alien being… He feels… I think he wants to mate!”

  She swats me. “Seriously, though. I don’t really understand it, but I can tell what it wants us to do.”

  We stand together, all humor evaporating. “And what’s that?”

  “Step onto it.”

  My display reads thirteen minutes. “No time to waste, then.”

  “Wait, before we do. I want to try something.”

  “Okay, but let's make it fast.”

  Mika hefts her staff. “Seems safe enough in here.” She points it opposite me, toward the door we entered, and grips it tightly. “Okay. I can kind of feel the magic in this thing, but I’m not sure how to activate it. Or what it’s going to do. Just… Stay behind me.”

  “Will do.” I take a few steps back, being careful to avoid the dais. “I’d better try mine out, too.”

  “Me first,” she grins. Hefting the length of gnarled wood, she points the crystal up, slightly into the stands. Her hands whiten against its dark wood, and she bites her lip in concentration. After a long moment where her whole body goes taut, she jabs her staff forward, yelling a battle cry.

  Nothing.

  “Did you check the batteries?”

  She throws me a withering glance. “Shut up. This is hard.”

  “Okay. No more jokes. Gandalf.”

  “Are you comparing me to a withered old wizard?” She turns the staff, bringing it in line with my torso.

  I hold my hands up in surrender. “Sorry! Sorry. More like Galadriel, then.”

  Mika’s eyes narrow. “So now you’re saying I look thousands of years old?”

  “Oh, God. The Shepherd might be preferable to this.” My joke sobers us. Twelve minutes. “Okay. Seriously shutting up now.”

  She tries again, concentrating so hard perspiration springs to her forehead. Still nothing. I’m getting antsy, worried at the delay, but going into battle with her not knowing how to use her staff sounds terrifying.

  And it will be a battle. Somehow, I know it.

  Finally, she groans in frustration. “I don’t get it. I can feel the heat of it inside. It wants to escape, to burn. But I can’t figure out how to let it free.”

  Close to ten minutes. “Maybe we’ll figure it out as we go, but I don’t think we have more time to experiment.”

  Mika’s face crumples. “I’m sorry.”

  “Hey, none of that. This is your first magic staff. We’ll get this.”

  She sniffs. “Okay. You next.”

  I’ve been waiting for this, but I didn’t want to break her concentration. I have to admit, I’m excited as fuck.

  I raise my rifle to my shoulder, bracing it. I have no idea what kind of recoil this thing might have, and I’m not taking chances. I bring my eyes down, sighting for one of the royal seating areas.

  I pull the trigger.

  There’s no buck, and a bullet, white, hissing and crackling like ice, explodes from the barrel. It hurtles toward the seats with a high, odd whine, slower than a regular bullet from a gun but still almost faster than I can track. When it impacts marble, it explodes spectacularly, sending a shower of stone hurling upward and out over the arena.

  “Damn.”

  Mika’s eyes are wide. “Kind of bummed we can’t trade, honestly.”

  I knock her staff with the tip of my rifle. “Don’t fret. You’ll be blasting flame in no time.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Anyway.” I swallow. “Ten minutes. We’d better skedaddle.”

  “Ske-what?”

  I don’t answer, just heave a huge breath.

  I step onto the dais.

  Nothing happens.

  “Must need us both,” Mika says. Her breath comes in small pants, and her face is pale.

  “Hey. I mean it. We’ll figure this out. And did you see what my gun did? We’ll be okay.”

  She nods, takes my outstretched hand. “Okay.”

  I tug her up. The moment her feet are both planted, the dais lights green.

  A huge door, directly across from the entrance, rumbles.

  I go to one knee while Mika stands over my shoulder, and I aim at the rising gateway. “Ready?”

  “No.”

  “Mika.”

  “I’m with you, Sam.” Her hands rests on my shoulder, clammy, but steady. “And Sam?”

  “Yes?”

  “Whatever happens here… If we don’t make it through this one…”

  “Hey. We will.”

  “But if we don’t. ” She takes a shuddering br
eath. “I wanted you to know that I’m… I’m happy I found you here. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

  I almost quip, something about not trading this for her life? But it dies on my lips. She’s right. Being here, with her… It’s the first in what feels like… well… my entire life that I’ve been really happy. Orcs and traps included.

  I look up to find her almond eyes locked on mine. “I don’t know what the hell is going on, or why we’re here. But every minute of it has been great with you.”

  Her smile melts me, and the banked desire in her eyes makes my heart beat faster than the doors sliding upward across the arena.

  From here we’re silent, waiting in trepidation as the door crawls open. I can’t see what’s inside, which is a lot goddamned scarier than anything I can imagine. After long seconds that make me wish we’d hustled a bit faster through the forest, the doorway stands open.

  The entrance illuminates without a source.

  But there are statues.

  Seven of them stand arrayed in a straight line, each one identical. The arena makes it hard to grasp scale, but I’d guess the figures stand ten feet tall. Black armor turns them into shadows. Their onyx helmets have no openings for eyes or mouths.

  I almost wish their armor was fancy, with scrollwork or something, because it’d pull my eyes from the midnight blades they carry. They’re not as long as the Shepherd’s but are equally terrifying. Mounted to their other arms are shields, kite shaped, large enough to cover their torsos and faces easily.

  Mika takes my arm. “Why,” she whispers, “Do I have the feeling they’re about to–”

  They take a long step forward in unison.

  “Move.”

  I inch closer to her. My heart tries to climb my throat as my aim through the holographic reticle shakes.

  The statues charge, ground eating strides that close distance with predatory speed.

  I squeeze the trigger, aim steady on the center statue. The moment I fire his shield comes up to block. Energy explodes, leaving a fist-sized dent but the shield doesn’t break.

  But the impact is enough that the statue spins and falls to one knee.

  His companions grind to a halt. “At least we can slow them down!”

  Mika steps ahead of me. “Why’d they stop?”

  “Maybe they can only move together?”