by C. S. Harte
“Two minutes!” Alyana screeched. “That’s too long — I can shower, get dressed, and eat breakfast in two minutes! Any way to cut it down to 20 seconds?”
“Perhaps, I can reduce the time to 60 seconds if I skip certain safety protocols,” Anjali said. “I would hesitate to lower it further. Anchors are an inter-universe transportation system requiring staggering amounts of energy.”
“So what happens if you configure one of these things wrong?” Alyana asked.
“I do not know. I would imagine most unpleasant consequences.” Anjali scrunched his face.
“It would be unwise to step into an improperly configured Anchor,” Samara said.
“Then we need to give Anjali as much time he needs to activate the Anchor properly,” Dren said. “It’d be idiotic making it this far only to trip at the finish line. What other gadgets do you have in that magical pouch of yours, Anjali?”
“What is it you are looking for?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Something that can distract them or any crowd control utilities.”
“Crowd control utilities?” Anjali raised an eyebrow. “I do not follow.”
“You know, something that can stun, blind, or otherwise disable mass groups of enemies.” Dren opened his thigh compartment and removed three metallic spheres. “I have these smoke bombs we use to cover our retreats. These won’t be useful indoors since it’ll blind us too.”
“Ah, I see.” Anjali rubbed his chin. “I can reconfigure my pailate to emit a high-frequency pitch. Voidi ears are known to be sensitive to such sounds.”
“That’s good,” Dren said. “What else?”
Anjali rummaged through his pouch and took out something that appeared to be a Rubik’s cube made of glass. “I also have this holo-projector.” He tossed it on the ground, and it began scanning the four members of the party. “It can cast multiple holograms to make our numbers seem vast.” After the device finished scanning, it jumped back into Anjali’s waiting hand.
“It’s sort of pretty looking,” Alyana said. “You should’ve started with that. Can I see it?”
Anjali handed the device to her.
“What do you call it?” She brought it to her face.
“I have yet to name it.”
“It looks like a glass Rubik’s cube, why don’t we call it a glubik?” She handed it back.
Anjali smiled. “Glubik, it is.” He tossed the device on the ground. Four holograms appeared, each an identical copy to the group member. With a twist of his hand, 12 more illusions appeared.
Dren lifted his right arm. His clone copied his motion.
“How fitting.” Alyana patted Anjali on his back. “You’ve made a clone of a clone.”
With a swirl of Anjali’s wrist, the glubik returned to his hand. All the illusions disappeared. “Are these distractions sufficient, Dren Arvol?”
“It’s hard to say anything is ‘sufficient’ against a company of Voidis. But our chances have improved slightly.”
“You forget, you have a Voice of House Taumate at your side,” Samara said, looking bored.
“Indeed.” Anjali smiled. “Mistress is not only a telepath but also a telekinetic.”
Samara held her hands at chest height, away from her body. Moving her fingers like a puppeteer, loose rocks of all shapes and sizes around the group lifted into the air. The stones swirled in place in front of her until she clapped her hands closed. Instantly, the rocks crashed together and formed a three-meter tall, humanoid-shaped golem.
“Brilliant, Mistress!” Anjali cheered. “You are indeed the most gifted Voice House Taumate has ever seen.”
“You’ve been holding out on us!” Alyana grinned.
Dren smiled. He knew of Samara’s fighting prowess during the escape of Salvation Station, but this was a different level of formidability. Maybe our chances aren’t as slim. We have the tools, now we need a plan. He approached the caved-in wall. “According to my sensors, the Anchor room is behind 20-meters of dirt and rocks. Anjali, am I correct to assume that your pailate can dig a tunnel through it?”
“Yes,” he nodded. “OK, once we break through…”
An explosion sounded from behind the wall, sending tremors through the tunnel and shaking loose part of the ceiling. The group took cover underneath the massive arms of the stone golem.
“The party started without us?” Alyana asked.
Blue dots filled Dren’s mini-map, rushing straight into the red ones.
“Fleet is here…” Dren said to himself, but loud enough for others to hear.
“Your allies?” Anjali asked.
“No, we have no allies within Fleet.” Alyana shook her head.
“So humans are like Chordans then, not united in thought and action.”
“You can say that…” Dren nodded. “We need to take advantage of this fight. Anjali, open the hole now!”
With subtle movements of his fingers, the pailate dug a hole through the mound of dirt.
Dren was the first through the newly created path. His eyes immediately fixed on the Fleet soldiers. He recognized the distinctive red streaks of their movements and the singing of their torch blades — Whispers. He counted 24 of them. The Whispers seemed to hold their own against the Voidis even as they fought outnumbered 10 to 1.
“Hurry!” Dren shouted to his team. “The Voidis are distracted right now.”
“To activate it, toss it to the ground.” Anjali handed Dren the glubik as he ran to the Anchor console.
Samara escorted him.
Neither the Whispers nor the Voidi seemed to notice the team or that a giant stone golem walked through an equally massive hole in the wall.
“How did the Whispers find us?” Dren asked Alyana.
She shrugged. “They’re Whispers. It’s their job to track people down.”
“Let’s head to the Anchor.” Dren and Alyana flanked Anjali while he worked on activating the escape portal.
“How much time, Anjali?” Alyana asked.
“60 seconds.”
Samara’s stone golem held off two Voidis while she dodged the attack of a Whisper.
Another explosion went off to Dren’s right. Green smoke poured out of spherical canisters throughout the room.
Dren understood what it was like to experience life through the chaotic lens of war. In every battle existed a crucial moment, spanning several seconds to several minutes, in which the entire outcome of the conflict rested. Some called it, “the soldier’s minute.” During this time, the soldier experienced a hyper-focus on the task at hand because of life or death consequences. Kill the enemy in front of you or be killed. Nothing else mattered — nothing before, nothing after — if he didn’t succeed.
“Dren, watch out!” Alyana shrieked as a Voidi warrior charged him from his flank.
He switched to a rapid-fire setting on his rifle and shot off the left leg of his attacker.
The Voidi howled in pain but had enough strength left to lunge at Dren, knocking him to the ground.
In the corner of his eye, Dren noticed a crimson ribbon of light streaking toward him. In the next second, he heard a sharp humming sound. The head of the Voidi rolled to the floor next to him, its eyes still blinking, twitching.
The Whisper pulled Dren up. “Are you Private Dren Arvol?”
Caught in the moment of having his life saved, Dren nodded an affirmation.
“I’m sorry,” the Whisper said. “I have to kill you now.”
Before she raised her torch blade, Alyana shot her in the head with a sidearm.
Dren turned to her. “You saved my life.”
“I never had to kill another Fleet officer before…” Alyana’s shoulders slumped.
“How much longer, Anjali?” Samara asked while controlling the golem fighting against two Whispers.
“10 seconds, my Mistress!”
“Fall back to the Anchor!” Dren yelled. He provided cover fire for Samara so she could join the team near the Anchor.
“It’s
opening!” Anjali screamed.
A pulse of air knocked everyone to the ground as the pressure in the room changed. Soft, blue light filled the room as the portal opened.
All heads turned toward Dren and his team. Without a word spoken between Whispers and Voidis, they agreed to a truce. Their attention turned to the Anchor. Everyone in the room rushed to the portal.
“Go! Go! Go!” Dren screamed. “Everyone inside now!”
Alyana dove into the portal first.
Anjali next.
“Go!” Dren watched as the light swallowed Samara.
Before he could follow his teammates, someone grabbed his ankle and tripped him.
Dren reached for the portal, but someone was holding him back.
25
Often, the difference between life and death is the same line as thinking and reacting. As soon as he felt the pull against his ankle, Dren gripped his combat knife and slashed at the appendage holding him. The entire sequence existed as a blur in his mind. Getting inside the portal was his only focus — it would not stay open forever. He didn’t bother to see whether it was a Whisper or a Voidi hand clamping down on him or what color blood coated his knife. Once freed, Dren belly-crawled into the portal.
Complete silence overwrote the clash of battle and screams of death. Dren called out to those who entered before him, but his words evaporated as it left his lips. Prismatic colors exploded in front of him, shooting past at barely perceptible speeds. He tumbled and soared, drifting chaotically in the unnatural medium of a realm that gravity ignored. Days passed — at least it felt like days. The chronometer on his HUD no longer updated. Finally, an image of Alyana appeared — tiny at first, the size of a grain of sand. She grew at an exponential rate, larger and larger. Dren was so focused on her image, he didn’t notice the details of the world filling in. He blinked. In that fraction of time, he lay next to Alyana’s foot which was standing on grainy, cream-colored stone floors.
“Close the portal!” Alyana yelled. “Dren made it through!”
Anjali scrambled to the Anchor console, a floating slab of rock similar in appearance to the flooring. Geometric shapes projected above the console which danced around his hands as he manipulated the controls. “It is closed.”
The portal gave one last spurt of light before flashing out of existence.
“I thought for sure someone else came through,” Alyana said, squeezing her sidearm with white knuckles. “I thought I heard something…”
“I do not sense another presence,” Samara said.
“Dren,” Alyana pulled him to his feet. “Are you OK?”
“I’m fine,” he looked at his ankle and noticed streaks of scarlet around his leg. My blood? Or someone else’s?
“How did the Whispers know where we were?” Alyana rubbed her chin, directing the question more to herself than anyone else.
“A good question, Alyana Harrows,” Samara commented.
“Didn’t you disable the bio-tracker in my neuromod?” Dren glanced at Alyana before accessing his neuromod interface.
“I did!” Alyana threw up her arms. “I don’t know how Whispers found us. What if they were there for another reason besides wanting to kill us?”
“They were there for us,” Dren said. “It’s too much a coincidence. If they found us at the Aztec Anchor, can they find us here, Anjali?” He scratched his chin. “Where is here, by the way?”
“Oh, where are my human manners?” Anjali smiled and bowed to Dren and Alyana. “Welcome to the Chordan home world of Aiga. We are in the capital city of House Taumate, Rheno Rhenasa.”
Alyana peered around the room. “It’s very… white.” The alabaster walls of the Anchor room had a similar grainy texture as the ground.
“White is one of our House colors,” Anjali said with his usual smile. “Along with blue and black.”
“I’ve been to a lot of planets, but never a new universe.” Alyana touched her lips. “This is a new universe right?”
“Yes, yes,” answered Anjali.
“Is… Is there anything different here? Like physics-wise? Am I going to gain weight?”
“No, the physics here are the same as your home universe, Alyana Harrows,” Samara said. “But there are universes where the rules of energy and matter differ. Pray you never visit those.”
Dren scanned the Anchor room for additional life signs. He had a vague memory of someone following him into the portal, but nothing showed on his sensors.
“You believe there is a spy among us, Dren Arvol?” Samara asked.
“There is no other biosignature here,” Anjali interjected. “As far as I’m aware, there is no way a tracker system can work across universes. But…” He bounced as he spoke. “It would delight me to run a microcellular scan on you, Dren Arvol. I am curious to see how human physiology has changed since we last monitored your evolution. We can head to my lab next.”
“I don’t like to be examined.” Dren crossed his arms.
“It couldn’t hurt,” Alyana said. “I wouldn’t put it past a Whisper to plant a bug on you somewhere.”
“Yes, she is correct,” Anjali said. “My scans will not cause any pain.”
“Anjali, do look after our human guest,” Samara said. “I must confer with my brother and the Archon and report to them my findings on Atua Leaga and the human leader, Jonas Barick.”
“What are you going to tell them?” Alyana asked. “We don’t yet have explicit proof Jonas is connected to Atua Leaga.”
“We have my memories,” Samara said.
“A Voice’s memories are incontrovertible proof in our society,” Anjali said.
“Well, that’s another thing different between our species,” Alyana said. “Memories are far from reliable.”
Samara scoffed. “Of course human minds are not as reliable as Chordan minds; your species is still developing higher brain functions.” She left the Anchor room after a curt nod.
Alyana slapped her forehead and exhaled a deep breath. “I’ve talked to android doctors who were easier to get along with than her.”
“Your android doctors must have excellent bed-side manners.” Anjali beamed a smile. He handed both Dren and Alyana a beige hooded cloak. “You must wear these. You are the first humans to visit our city. Better to not draw unwanted attention. Not every Chorda is as sympathetic as we are.”
Dren shielded his eyes as they walked through the doorway of the Anchor room and into the open world. Light from the trinary star system created a super-saturated effect on the landscape, making every color so vivid as to appear surreal. Once he adjusted, he noticed he was walking on air. A river rushed beneath his feet. He almost jumped backward before catching a smile on Anjali’s face. The floor beneath his feet was virtually transparent, only a slight iridescent shimmer to indicate its presence.
“You are on the Bridge of Fusai,” Anjali said. “Fear not, you cannot fall through. It is one of the many splendors of my home city.”
“This place is like a dream…” Alyana dropped to one knee as she ran her finger along the shimmering bridge.
A thousand meters in front of Dren was the ivory and gold-trimmed walls defining the limits of Rheno Rhenasa. Silvery statues of Chordan soldiers in full regalia, the height of the city gates, guarded the entrance. In the background, skyscraping towers the color of pearls, stretched high into the air and capped with a crown of sparkling crystal. Criss-crossing the sky were blimp-shaped aircraft, lazily floating from one end of the majestic landscape to the other.
“Rheno Rhenasa is one of the oldest cities on our world,” Anjali said. “Others are more advanced architecturally, but there is no doubt to Rheno Rhenasa’s elegance and allure.”
As they neared the city gates, milky-white banners with black stripes and the navy blue double diamond house insignia hung from the sides of every tower. Every street carried the emblem. The further into the city, the more of them they saw.
Chordans of every size, age, and sex bustled about without mu
ch of a care, unaware of the war with humans. They didn’t bother to look in the direction of Dren and Alyana, not minding the two aliens walking among their midst.
Dren couldn’t help but stare at a young couple sitting on a bench in front of a flower field. The blossoms appeared to sway without the aid of blowing wind. Being on the front lines all his life, Dren had never seen what normalcy could look like until his arrival here. The characters playing the roles of a couple in love and family enjoying dinner weren’t human, and it didn’t matter to Dren. Is this kind of life possible for me? Would Fleet have ever given clones a chance of living a life outside of war?
They arrived at Anjali’s workshop, a quaint room filled to the brim with lab equipment, racks of clear jars, disassembled gadgets, books, and antique relics. Two holographic screens floated on opposite sides of the room. One of which had the distinctive Aorgarian concentric circle patterns scrolling in an endless cycle. Everything in the place was an eclectic mix of ancient, old, new, and futuristic.
Alyana headed straight for the pile of human-looking books. She plucked a well-worn novel from the heap. “The Tempest by William Shakespeare.” She turned to Anjali. “How do you have this?”
Anjali grinned. “I am a collector of history. It is my passion.”
“Please, Dren Arvol,” he gestured to a two-meter-long table in the bottom-left corner of the rectangular room. “I would like to scan you before the Mistress returns.”
“I really don’t…” He backed away.
“Just let him do it!” Alyana yelled and shouldered him forward.
Dren sighed. “Do I need to take off my suit?” He lowered himself onto the table. It felt good to be off his feet, to rest without having to worry someone or something was trying to kill him.
“Your helmet, which is already off.” Anjali held a metallic rod over Dren’s face. It pulsed a series of red, green, and blue lights directly into his eyes. “Are you aware of a device behind your right eye?”
“My ocular implant, every clone has one.” Dren yawned.
“Intriguing!” His face brightened.
Dren closed his eyes as sleep tugged at him. In the background, he heard Anjali speaking to Alyana, but his brain couldn’t register the words. “What are you guys talking about?” Mumbled voices returned to his ears. He tried to pry his eyelids open, but they refused to unseal. His arms felt heavy, numb as he tried to lift them. “What’s happening to me… I can’t move.” He wasn’t sure if his words were escaping his lips.