by Gregg Vann
{Peaceful isolationists? They’ve fooled you all, Udek}
Maybe, Seeris. But it will be interesting to see what effect those weapons have on the Brenin when they arrive.
{None at all in my estimation, even if they do manage to breach the shield. And despite the information you’ve obtained, I highly doubt they’ll find a way through it. And even if they did, our hulls are designed to be incredibly resilient. I scanned this Obas ‘Secret Fleet’ myself, Udek; I know its capabilities. They will be lucky to present even a minor impediment to our armada, certainly no real danger. Regardless, I suggest we drop our passenger off with the stolen information and leave for Bodhi Prime—so we can straighten out our own peculiar situation. You’ve met your obligation to that misguided monk, Brother Dyson. Bodhi Prime is safe…for now}
You seem to forget, Seeris, if we can’t stop the Brenin, regaining my own body, and Dasi, will do me little good. Where could we go with your people destroying everything in sight? My future depends on stopping the Brenin. And now that I know more about your race, about how you view the universe and your place in it, I’m even more convinced of that than ever.
{Then we will all die in this futile pursuit of yours}
Maybe. Do all of you Brenin believe yourselves so infallible?
{Our successes speak for us. I see no reason to think otherwise}
“We are preparing to descend,” Boe announced.
He and Uli took the two chairs, while I grabbed a ceiling mounted handgrip, leaning forward to get a better view out of the forward window. Soon, we were dropping through the moisture-laden clouds of the lower atmosphere; our passage buffeted the ship slightly, causing it to gently sway side to side. As we broke through and into the open sky below, we were greeted by an expansive sea-view—azure waters stretching off to the far edges of the horizon in every direction. It was beautiful, and haunting at the same time; hundreds and hundreds of kilometers of water with no visible signs of life…or so it seemed. I heard Boe say something to the escort ships and then we veered off to the left—within minutes, a small land mass appeared in the distance. Details started to emerge as we got closer, buildings, vehicles, and finally, people. I recognized the island from Udek intelligence reports; it was Nuvrep, one of the few known Obas settlements.
“Understood,” I heard Boe say, then he spun his chair sideways to explain what was happening. “We will land here for a few minutes so our military can board and search the ship. They will be scanning for hidden weapons or explosives…anything that may present a danger. And they will search our bodies as well. I implore you to cooperate, we won’t be allowed to proceed if you don’t.”
“Is this really necessary?” Uli asked.
“What would you do in our position?”
“The same,” she admitted after a short pause. “Probably worse.”
“Very well,” I added. “Let’s get it over with.”
{Frightened children, terrified of their betters} Seeris commented.
I ignored him, and watched Boe bring the ship down in a small clearing—the escort craft continuing to hover high above us in the partially overcast sky. I was forced to admire the Obas’ skill in piloting the ship. It had only taken him a few minutes to gain proficiency with the vessel, and his first attempts were much better than mine had been back in Eraz’s hangar—a Master Pilot indeed. We touched down so softly that I barely took notice of it, my attention instead drawn to the group of heavily armed Obas filing out of a nearby building to approach the ship.
The majority of them took up guard positions, while a few others wrestled scanning equipment out of containers and then disappeared underneath the ship. I watched on the exterior monitors as they examined the entire hull—not a single port or extension remained untouched—then all of the Obas gathered together in a group to share their findings. Even through the window it was clear that the deliberations were heated. But eventually, they all agreed on a course of action and one of them held up a communication device to call Boe. The booming voice bounced throughout the ship.
“We are coming aboard. Back away from the hatch and make no threatening moves.”
The three of us remained at the front of the ship, away from the hatch as directed, listening as the voices grew louder outside. I checked the console to confirm that the security latch was off, and then watched as the hatch lights blinked red twice, before changing to yellow. The door clanked open and a gun rose up slowly though the opening. I saw that it was fitted with a remote camera sight, and the weapon pivoted around in a complete circle—looking for any signs of danger—before its owner popped up through the hatch to level the gun at the three of us. His mouth sagged open as he stared at Uli and me, almost as if he couldn’t believe his eyes, but then the Obas recovered himself enough to speak.
“Hands above your heads,” he directed. “All of you.”
We complied as Boe tried to explain the reaction. “Other than in pictures, or a few learning videos from their time at school, many of my people have never seen an off-worlder before. In fact, the majority of us haven’t; some even think you are all mythical. Certainly, no Obas has ever seen a Brenin.”
The soldier stepped up through the hatch and was quickly joined by two others; the first kept his gun trained on us the entire time, while his comrades scanned and searched every part of the ship. I watched in amusement as one of them picked up Toz’s hand and examined it closely. He showed it to the soldier guarding us, and I saw his grip tighten on the rifle. The Obas then held the hand out far away from himself, dangling it by one of the fingers as he yanked a plastic bag out of his waist pouch with his other hand.
“Decontamination procedures,” the other two Obas reminded him.
“I know. Believe me, I know.”
He hit a tiny blue patch on the bag with one of his fingers and it spread itself open, then he dropped the hand inside and the container re-sealed automatically.
“Ivos,” he called down through the hatch. “Catch.”
He dropped the hand through the opening, and then unclipped a canister from his belt—spraying his hand and arm repeatedly with disinfectant. Even though his hand dripped with the clear fluid, he appeared unconvinced that it was clean.
{I find it amusing that this barbarian feels the same way about us as we do about him}
“Where did that voice come from?” our guard asked nervously, his eyes darting around the ship.
“Look over there…on the counter,” I replied, gesturing toward it with one hand while continuing to hold my arms up in the air. “It’s a medical scanner.”
“And why would a voice be coming from a medical scanner?” he asked skeptically.
“It’s a long story.”
“Well…you are not going anywhere until I hear it.”
“We don’t have time for this nonsense,” Boe interjected. “I need to see the assembly. Now. Scan the device and finish your examinations. We must go on to Edo.”
The soldier was respectful, but adamant. “We have to be certain there is no threat, Master Pilot. I apologize, but we must be thorough. We don’t understand some of this technology.”
Boe snapped. “You will never understand this technology. Finish your work and get us on our way!”
The soldier’s attitude shifted rapidly. “Yes, Master Pilot.”
The guard gestured for the other two to hurry up, and they quickly finished checking the ship’s interior. Then they came over to us and meticulously scanned our bodies. They kept their distance, I noticed, reluctant to actually touch us. I expected alarms to go off when they detected the soul chamber inside of me, but because of the strange Brenin physiology, all of their readings probably seemed equally suspicious. The soldier scanning me did pause when he got to my arm with the missing bledi; he re-scanned my other wrist and frowned at the difference. But eventually, they were satisfied and our guard dropped his gun…mostly. The other two Obas stepped back out through the hatch and closed it behind them. As the tension in the air
lessened, we lowered our arms.
“My name is Corporal Miz,” the Obas announced. “I will be accompanying you to Edo.” He spoke into his communicator, never taking his eyes off of us. “This is Miz. As far as we can determine, everything is safe. The alien ship may resume its flight now. I will be remaining aboard as a precaution.”
“We await your liftoff.”
Miz turned to Boe. “Whenever you are ready, Master Pilot.”
Boe nodded at him, then sat down in the primary flight chair and engaged the ship’s flight systems. We gently rose back into the air, barely reaching a hundred meters before starting to cruise forward slowly. I watched the display as our escort craft resumed their previous stations, so close now that I could see flashes of movement as their crews moved around the flight deck. We’d traveled barely two kilometers over the placid waters before Boe slowed the ship to a hover, then pitched the nose down to begin gliding toward to the ocean’s surface; I grabbed one of the hand-grips and saw Miz do the same. It was impossible to tell when we hit the water, sliding below the surface in a smooth, light movement—trading air for water in a seamless transition that could have easily gone unnoticed, unless you were looking out one of the windows…which I was.
As we sank into the sea, I saw one of our escorts peel away, and then another—leaving one ship ahead of us and one behind. A brightly colored school of tube-shaped fish swarmed over the area, their skin flickering in the filtered light as they darted through the water. The mass of creatures flowed over, under, and between our ships, before moving off in a synchronized wave to find something more interesting to look at.
Diving even deeper, the natural light faded away, and our escorts turned on their running lights and rotating search beams. Boe did the same with our ship, although its comparative illumination was minimal; it was designed for space flight, not deep-sea diving. Regardless, it was holding up well under the ever-increasing pressure.
For several minutes, there was nothing visible outside the radius of our external lighting, nothing but an ebony void—the type of deep darkness that causes the mind to conjure up monsters. But then I saw a glow in the distance, a pinpoint of light that grew larger as we descended—becoming exponentially brighter every hundred meters we traversed. Soon, its source filled our field of view; it was a massive undersea city, one whose illumination rivaled that of the sun’s natural light, far above. Its brilliance extended for kilometers in every direction, as did the city’s structures.
I was astonished by the sheer size and complexity of what I was witnessing—the sprawling metropolis clearly housed millions of Obas. And then I remembered Boe’s confession to us during the journey here; that this was only one of many such cities, scattered across the ocean floor—and that they also inhabited the undersea caverns located all over the planet. All of this…in addition to the token presence on the surface.
Eight billion Obas?
That might be a conservative estimate.
Chapter Twenty
Boe leveled the ship off and moved slowly over the city, giving me plenty of time to look around at the impressive structures and unique architecture. There were large, clear domes—reaching hundreds of meters above the ocean floor—each mounted on thick pillars that jutted out from the bedrock below. I could see buildings inside the domes, with small, open vehicles ferrying passengers back and forth between them—the Obas going on with their normal lives as if oblivious to the impending danger.
Beneath the massive domes were even larger structures, stretched out across the ocean floor. Spaced between them were smaller, individual buildings—some connected by clear travel tubes, others completely set apart with external airlocks to the ocean outside. And the surrounding water was full of vehicles, ranging in size from large, clear-canopied ferries, to smaller single-person transports. There were even construction vehicles, and I watched as one of them landed on a dome’s exterior; the crew grabbed their equipment and stepped out onto its glass-like surface. But none of the conveyances ever came close to us. In fact, all of them steered far clear of our ship. Sometimes, obviously so.
And everywhere…everywhere…there were Obas.
In the distance, I saw a dark wall rising up from behind the city, pushing through the deep water to ascend out of sight. And as we got closer, I realized that it was an underwater mountain. The immense wall of rock was dotted with small buildings and elaborate rows of lights, all set in obvious, purposeful placement. But the majority of the surface was undeveloped, and thickly covered by bright, red sea-grass that swayed in the gentle ocean currents. A pink-tinged glow surrounded each source of light, as the illumination caught the diluted color of the ubiquitous plants and broadcast it away from the mountain.
We were on a collision course with the rock face, and I noted with increasing alarm that we’d barely slowed down. But before I had a chance to say anything, two large doors parted through the red grass and a bright light came spilling out from within the mountain. Two ships emerged and situated themselves on either side of the doors, and then our leading escort veered off to the right, turning around to head back over the city. The rear guard abandoned us as well.
“We will be landing in approximately five minutes,” Boe announced.
Our speed decreased, and we passed unimpeded through the doors—entering a rock chamber carved out of the mountain and coming to a complete stop. A metal wall stood solidly in our path, and the ship’s lights reflected brightly off the large, gray monolith, illuminating the entire chamber. I heard a loud clank as the exterior doors closed behind us, and then air bubbles started to rise all around the ship—some as large as a meter across. The water level began to drop rapidly, and I watched as it drained past the front window to recede below the ship. Boe kept the craft steady and level throughout the transition, and within a few moments, the entire chamber was dry.
The ‘wall’ in front of us began sinking into the floor, and as it did, a huge space became visible on the other side of it. I leaned forward as far as the strap I was holding allowed and peered inside. As my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw twenty-five…maybe thirty ships, just like the ones that had escorted us from orbit. Parked between them and beyond were hundreds of other smaller craft.
“This is one of our small-craft maintenance and servicing facilities,” Boe explained. “The capital ships, destroyers, and other large vessels, are all kept in the bigger caverns.”
“Bigger caverns?” I remarked.
{Much larger} Seeris answered.
“He’s right,” Boe said angrily. The Obas was visibly upset that their secrets were out, but he also practical enough to realize that further deception was pointless.
I looked out of the window again, taking in more detail this time and reflexively making a tactical assessment; there were more ships in this one hangar, with much greater firepower, than we thought all of Obas possessed. But despite this impressive display of ships and armaments—and the enormity of the space itself—I was still able to easily pinpoint our destination as we moved deeper into the hangar. There was a large clearing ahead of us, set far apart from the other ships, and around it were standing at least fifty armed soldiers—presenting a perimeter of firepower more than enough to deal with any potential threat our ship contained. As we came to a stop and descended into the carefully prepared area, I noted four Obas in civilian attire also awaiting our arrival, each flanked by personal bodyguards.
“Do you afford all visitors to Edo such a hospitable welcome?” I asked.
Miz, who’d said nothing the entire trip, chose this moment to break his silence. “There have never been any visitors to Edo before. This is a simple precaution, nothing more.”
“I see.”
Boe adeptly put the ship down in the middle of the gathering and shut the engines down.
“Let’s go,” Miz said, reassuming the alert, military demeanor he’d possessed on the surface.
I walked over to the hatch and opened it; a pop sounded when the latch
es released—no doubt caused by a slight difference in pressure between the ship’s interior and the hangar’s atmosphere.
“You three go out first,” Miz directed.
I helped Uli down through the opening first, and then Boe followed her out. Once they’d moved out of the way, I stepped through myself, walking out from underneath the flight wing to join them at the front of the scout ship. Miz made his way out as well and took up a position behind us with his rifle at the ready.
The four civilian Obas approached us confidently, leaving their guards behind. But by the wary looks on the soldier’s faces, I knew that if anything untoward happened they would be ready to react within seconds. The Obas came to a halt a few feet in front of us and stared.
“Amazing,” one of them exclaimed. “Even for off-worlders, these two are so…different.” The others nodded in agreement, and then they all gawked for a few more uncomfortable moments before one of them finally stepped forward.
“I am Lews, Speaker for the Ki Assembly. I’m sure that designation means absolutely nothing at all to you, but I am the elected leader of Obas.”
He glanced over at Uli for a second, and then back at me, unsure of which one of us to address. “And you are…?”
“That requires a complicated answer,” I replied.
“Then do give me an abbreviated version, please. As you can see,” Lews spread his arms out wide and spun slightly to indicate the armed perimeter, “there is some concern about your presence here.”
“Of course. I am Kiro Tien, Udek Special Corp, placed inside this body by Brother Dyson…one of the Bodhi.”
“Dyson? Yes…yes…I know him. We’ve had limited dealings with the Bodhi in the past. That would certainly explain that chamber in your chest our crew on the surface detected, and some of your actions, but I wasn’t aware that the Bodhi could transfer someone’s consciousness into an alien body like this.”