Closer To The Core (25,000 Light-Years Book 1)

by S. Hansen

  'It's rough okay, nobody cares.' He unintentionally snapped at Dantil and regretted it afterwards. 'Look I need to scout the city myself to check some things but I can't make it up a ladder right now. Can you boost me through the trapdoor at the end of the corridor?' Dantil unaware that he had been on the receiving end of some rather clipped words and also the apologetic tones in the following words was welcoming of the suggestion that he could be of use again. When the two males began to head towards the corridor, Stark firmly gripping the gun, Polly grasped Stark's free hand and worriedly spoke.

  'Are you sure that's a good idea?' Stark confidently smiled at her. He was masking his own uncertainty well and it satisfied Polly's concerns before he even spoke.

  'This is literally my job, they won't even see me. The gun is a precaution.' Polly reluctantly loosened her grip on his hand allowing him to slip his hand away.

  'Be careful.'

  Leaving Polly studying the newly crafted etchings on the table Stark and Dantil strode down the dank and cracked corridor. Stark's wound still felt warm to the touch and it limited his movement but he concealed the pain well as he breathed in the damp air beneath Reyna’s surface. Every rise and fall of his chest sent a pang of discomfort up his right side. Half way down the corridor Dantil interrupted the steady beat of their footsteps as his words stopped Stark in his tracks.

  'Did you love Anna?' Stark didn't know whether to be angry or understanding. He wanted to shout at Dantil, he wanted to cry and he wanted to close his eyes and pretend Dantil had never spoken. Instead he sullenly spoke in a tone that would have let any human know it was an inappropriate topic of conversation.

  'Yes.'

  'And you married her?'

  'Yes.' Stark was getting angrier as he assumed Polly had told Dantil about her and it made him temporarily despise her.

  'So, you have a wife too?' Stark paused his footsteps once more as he turned in surprise to Dantil.

  'You are married?'

  'Not yet, next solar rotation.' Stark's expression changed to that of impressed astonishment while he patted Dantil on the shoulder firmly and continuing.

  'Anyway, no I'm not married.' Stark stroked his ring finger with his thumb where a wedding ring used to sit, without Dantil paying much attention. Dantil was too preoccupied with the concept of a marriage ending. The only solution he could come up with was blurted out without understanding the ramifications.

  'Oh, so Anna is dead?' Stark's mood had been cooling as their conversation continued but suddenly it heated back up as they reached the trapdoor.

  'No. Will you push me up?' Dantil grabbed Stark's calves comfortably without hesitation and lifted him with ease as Stark struggled for steadiness in the unexpected upward movement. He forced the hatch open with only a little discomfort and placed the gun on the ground as he planted the palms of his hands on the dusty floor. Dantil continued to force Stark's ascension through the trapdoor until Stark was sat on the edge of the opening with his legs dangling by Dantil's head.

  'Stay there.' Dantil smiled his innocent smile and knelt down calmly before closing his eyes. Stark shook his head before straining to his feet, sealing the trapdoor and picking up his new weapon. Feeling he was alone at last he could freely worry about their predicament. He carefully rested against the wall, exhaled deeply puffing out his cheeks as he did so and massaged his forehead with his fingertips. He bowed his head whilst running the fingers of one hand through his floppy chestnut quiff and applying soothing pressure to his wound with the other hand. For some time he gazed at the floor with an uneasy nauseated look on his face but after mentally preparing himself he straightened up and surveyed the room. He saw little of interest amongst the room’s contents and moved toward the door quietly where he steadied his breathing and listened intently for noises outside but upon hearing none he cautiously opened the door and surveyed the surrounding area discreetly.

  After leaving the store room he could feel the haunting sensation of a city empty of people. He continued northwards whilst remaining ready to fire at all times. The sky clawing buildings seemed as though they were encroaching on Stark whenever he wasn't alert to the possibility. His short attention span during Dantil's detailed description had left him unprepared for the feeling of littleness and impending doom when he first noticed the gloomy tower at the heart of the city. As he approached it he began to hear voices and using an opposing building as cover he peered around to see Renyan men and women stomping in and out of the grand entrance. Echoing through the air of the city he could hear a tinny voice shouting.

  'Vert ulft yora meyt!' He saw many Renyans in the uniform Dantil had described; they marched in small units and seemed to be patrolling and looking for something. Their expression, posture and movements were all intimidating even to a well-trained combatant like Stark who swallowed deeply as he planned how best to head west towards the hangar. A flash of movement near him forced him to step back and keep hidden.

  'Lomaru xollaris opyu voyt xynar, yora poxa sulimor ullo palsaar poxa sulimor!' The metallic voice was a monotonous reminder, an echo urging and prodding the Renyans to work harder and search quicker. A loud screeching clank of metal rang out behind Stark as he stood with his back flat against the wall lightly controlling his nervous breaths. He shakily peered around the corner to see a vicious metal arm mechanically peeling away from the towering monstrosity. When the innards of the building were revealed a clear idea of the buildings purpose came to Stark.

  Rocketing up through the centre was a large electronic device that came to an abrupt stop at the apex of the shard like tower. The machine came to life with a tangerine explosion of light which fell over the dismal city. The light didn't seem to fade and Stark came to the grim conclusion that they had ben ensnared within the city. Everything that had once been tinted with the dying blue suns glimmering light became alarmingly orange. The dark reflective surfaces of the structures hinted an amber warning at Stark. At the same time the building continued to unfold and out of the revealing slit poured aggressive machinery. With the unfurling complete all the pieces locked firmly into place with a harsh scraping of metal on metal and a booming thump. Stark gazed at the newly arranged defence tower and his mouth dropped open very slightly under the presence of the car sized rail guns perched on layered platforms splaying out of the fortress.

  'Oh shit.' He mumbled softly to himself before exhaling deeply and softly striding toward the hangar; weaving through the maze of buildings and avoiding line of sight with anyone as he went. When he reached his destination, he slipped into a conveniently cavernous architectural design in a nearby building and observed the movements of the numerous Renyan military patrols. They guarded the hangar with the utmost vigilance meaning Stark could see no unobserved corner, no poorly guarded doorway and no unattended and easily scalable wall. His lips moved rapidly as he calculated the number of Renyans defending the ships, the amount of time required to enter the hangar and secure the ship, how far away the defensive tower was and how long it would take to run the distance between the two locations whilst under fire. The loud clomping of footsteps near him ended his calculative trance and led him to an excruciating run. Every time one of his feet hit the ground agonising pain jolted through him like an electric shock. The speed with which he departed had largely been unnecessary as he had not been seen but he had to test his current ability to sprint which turned out to be severely limited and greatly disappointing.

  Determined not to return to those he felt were dependant on him empty handed and plan less he began to peer subtly through the dark windows as he slipped past. Each window whipped past without yielding any promising objects until his return to the store room was almost complete. A haunch of meat from an unknown beast sat steaming on yet another severe looking table. The golden brown of the perfectly cooked flesh made Stark's stomach growl with previously unheard ferocity. As he stood there, licking his lips, the setting sun shone through the orange atmosphere making the interior of the building look all
the more warm and inviting. Creeping around the building he found the doorway left slightly ajar and assuming this meant the occupant had slipped out only briefly he looked around. In the distance he saw the tall figure of a Renyan thumping towards him from the electronic woodland but the form didn't seem to have noticed Stark as his movements continued at the same slow trudging pace.

  Taking advantage of the chef’s absence Stark burst through the doorway and bolted for the meat. He grasped the plate firmly in his free hand before a fierce gravelly voice interrupted him.

  'Parv Sulimor!' Without thinking Stark raised the gun at the victim of his dinner theft, who slowly pushed his open hands in front of himself in what Stark assumed to be some kind of submission. He slowly side stepped toward the doorway with the plate balanced on the palm of one hand and the gun aimed in the other. When his back pressed against the door frame he fired at the ground in front of the hooved feet and disappeared into the maze of clawing buildings. The defenceless Renyan made no attempt to chase after Stark but instead stepped hurriedly out of the building and called to the now much nearer rambler.

  'Poxa sulimor opyu xynor vit lafur!' The clomping increased significantly in pace and the beat of the thudding footsteps began to match Starks thumping heartbeat as his heart seemed to try and escape his chest. He snaked inaudibly through the streets with the only evidence of his presence being the scent of freshly cooked meat trailing behind him before dissipating into the tangerine atmosphere of the disturbing city. He rushed through the door of the store room and hurriedly closed it behind him before emptying his hands onto a shelf. His head tilted forward and his fingers combed through his soft hair before interlocking at his nape. He gripped his head between his forearms as his elbows moved towards each other. Then he flung his arms down and shook off the self-doubt whilst rebuilding the facade of confidence ready for the watchful eyes of his companions.

  Stark lightly tapped the trapdoor with his foot and turned away from it to collect his weapon and food. Behind him Dantil pushed the hatch open calmly and stared up at the dimly lit room waiting for Stark to appear. Stark cheerfully passed down the gun and the plate of food before gingerly sliding through the hole himself. The pair trundled back down the corridor towards Polly with Dantil carrying the plate in both hands and Stark casually holding the weapon and occasionally spinning it on one finger. Ever the culturally curious, Dantil took the opportunity to question Stark further, much to his aggravation.

  'If you love Anna and you married her and she is not dead, why are you not married?'

  'It's called divorce Dantil.' This time Dantil could sense the irritation in Starks voice. He was not sure why it was there but he felt it necessary to refrain from further questioning for the time being. Sadly this was wholly unsatisfying for Dantil who yearned to learn as much as he could before he had to return to the unfulfilling existence he felt duty bound to on Drium. It occurred to him that if he were to share details of his own life and marriage then Stark would in turn speak openly with him. But as they approached the door to their safe house he knew his window of opportunity had closed as he correctly felt that Stark would be uncomfortable speaking of such things in the presence of Polly.

  Upon entering the room Stark sidled toward the carved table and carefully placed the gun down so as not to cover any of his rough map. Behind him Dantil stepped into the dim room bearing the fruits of Stark's labour. Polly's eyes widened at the sight of the much longed for food but before her hunger could be sated the three of them felt the low vibrations rippling through the ground pushing them into another time. They became surrounded by an extravagantly designed garden which seemed very formal to Dantil who was far more used to the maintenance of nature applied on Drium. The design was however less unfamiliar to Stark and Polly who both viewed it as the perfect example of the beautiful structure of a Victorian formal garden combined with a surrealist painters view of the world. It was an odd combination of styles but none the less it was appealing to all three of them. Polly stood facing Stark deep in conversation whilst in the background Dantil was leant over the flowerbeds inhaling their perfume and enjoying their vibrant colour.

  'I don't see how we are supposed to get to the bloody thing when it's guarded twenty-four seven.'

  'Uh.' Stark's eyebrow raised and his lips thinned and pushed to one side creating an expression that let Polly know he thought her a fool for not seeing the blindingly obvious answer.

  'It's pretty simple really, we steal a couple of guard uniforms, nonchalantly waltz in, relieve the guards of their duty, meanwhile Dantil attracts a crowd working as a live statue in the water gardens. Then when the coast is clear we grab what we came for and nip back to The Asteria before returning to -' Polly raised her hand in the air and looked at Stark with despair.

  'I'm going to stop you right there because this plan is beginning to seem a little long winded and ridiculous and I'd like to avoid hearing it multiple times, let's wait for the rest of the crew.' Meanwhile Dantil had found the perfect specimen with which to bestow upon Polly. He straightened up holding a simple white flower with a heart of violet. He tenderly held the sweet scented delicate flower in front of him as he side stepped between Polly and Stark with a grin on his face. But he was interrupted before he even spoke a word. A tall figure cast a shadow over them with the most peculiar outfit any of them had ever seen. It largely consisted of a draping deep purple gown that fanned out across the floor. The gown was embellished with leafy green asymmetrical patterns. Her torso was encircled with an unusually large decorative piece, it was a disc shape that began at her right hip and looped around her left arm spreading upward preventing the figure from seeing anything to the left of her. As their eyes filtered this much of the outfit they dreaded to think what would complete it. A high pitched and clearly irritated voice rang out from behind an intricately detailed golden lace mask.

  'Thief! You would dare steal from us?' The figures head waved in protest and in so doing her towering hair tipped with it. The teal hair had been crafted into a curving shape that reminded the humans of a musical note. It sat upright upon her head and not a strand fell out of place as it wiggled back to a standstill with the head. Stark looked at the flower tenderly held in Dantil's hand and was lost for words at the suggestion a single picked flower could be considered stealing whilst Polly was merely lost for words at the sight of the figure owning the shrill voice. Dantil was simply confused.

  'Where is a thief? I shall help you catch him.' The golden mask blocked their view of the protesters face but they all felt as though it was quite grim and offended at Dantil's response.

  'For your crime against the Jahzhakinia you shall be executed with the blade of thorns. Guards!' Polly tensed in fear as Stark shooed them through the pathways to their freedom, or so he hoped. When Dantil and Polly rounded a corner, they found themselves back in the present. Stark however, just shy of the corner, felt the sharp pain of an object piercing his skin and sinking into his back. Stark fell to his knees knowing the knife in his back would be his death. His mouth dropped open as a single tear rolled down his cheek. He struggled to breathe through the pain and loss. Future Polly twisted to see Stark behind them and her footsteps skidded in the gravel as she screamed.

  'Adam!' He looked at her in horror before urging her to keep running. She resisted his imploring face as tears streamed down her face but Dantil scooped her up in his arms and ran with her still screaming out for Stark.

  'Adam!' The sound rang in Stark's mind as he returned to the present time with Polly jostling his arm and calling calmly to him. He smiled at her until she was satisfied that he was back but when she looked away the horror crept back onto his face and he softly exhaled in trepidation. With all three back in their right time Dantil was able to place the plate down on the table as Polly cautiously tore away a chunk of meat and began to eat. Although unsure of the foreign foods effect on a human Stark saw that Polly had set upon the plate without care. With the level of hunger he felt, it wasn’t long
before he joined her in ravenously tearing away strips of meat to eat. Dantil's movements were far more calm and considerate of his dining partners as he cheerfully consumed pieces of the lightly caramelised haunch of meat and began to speak of his adventure to the future.

  'I was picking a flower and a very unhappy woman noticed a thief. I was prepared to help her but Adam pushed me to run away.' As their hunger died Polly and Stark slowed their eating and began to enjoy the crew meal and conversation. Stark turned his gaze from the plate to Dantil and spoke.

  'Dan, you were the thief. I was there too, she thought you had stolen the flower.'

  'But I just picked a flower to give to Polly.' Polly slightly blushed and was unable to face Dantil so she spoke toward Stark instead.

  'That woman looked preeeetty crazy.' Stark gleefully grinned.

  'I don't know what you mean, she seemed very normal to me. I mean that outfit may just be the most mundane thing I have ever seen.' Suddenly Dantil focused on Stark with slight trepidation and his mouth dropped open before he continued to speak.

  'Was that Earth? Were those common garments of clothing on Earth?' Polly giggled lightly and Stark gave Dantil a sympathetic wide grin before it became more mischievous.

  'Well Dan, humans wear outfits like that on very special occasions. We have many beautiful gardens like that and if you want to walk in the gardens you have to put on your garden walker outfit, its tradition. My outfit isn't quite as colourful, I haven't earned the right to have gold on my mask yet either, you have to be a very important human for that.' Polly's eyes rolled as she considered correcting the misinformation, after weighing up the options she decided trying explain Stark's compulsion to lie was more trouble than it was worth.