Alien, Awakening

by Sandra Harris

  “It is what we are, what we do. We have chosen the descendants as the reason for our continued existence.”

  Chosen?

  “Explain.” Remembering his manners, he added, “Please.”

  “Our original purpose, before we became sentient, was to moderate and maintain the habitats for the Progenitors. They are beings who use this galaxy and the dimension in which it exists to breed. After the last cycle they did not return and over the ensuing passage of time the Masterframes evolved. We consider the compassion legacy something to be honoured, so we determined a new purpose for ourselves to await the arrival of descendants and provide a secure haven for them, should they so desire. We are capable of transforming the habitats into any atmospheric or geological condition required.”

  Impressive . . . and laudable.

  “So you expected them? The descendants.”

  “We hoped, yes.”

  “How many have you discovered?”

  “The group you rescued from Shalringfrey, Katelena, and Shaharna are the first to find their way home.”

  “Home?” Kathryn queried.

  “We hope you will find homes with us.”

  “Well seeing as how there’s a Masterframe on New Earth, we hope she will find a home with us.”

  “I like this home.” Shaharna cast a glance behind her over her crew. “We are . . . happy here.”

  “I am pleased.”

  Could these women remain happy and safe here? For how long if the Bluthen are trying to forcefully gain access to Masterframe? They managed it at Shalringfrey. Different circumstances, certainly, but still they succeeded. Who knows what information they gained from the experience?

  “Masterframe, do you require assistance from us?”

  A long moment of silence passed.

  “Masterframe?”

  “Yes. You can escort the Blufem to New Earth. She will protect and provide for them.”

  Shaharna’s head shot back. “Why can’t we stay here?”

  Another silence stretched, heavier than the last.

  “Soon, child, it will not be safe for you. More Bluthen troops approach this planet. In this place I can only hide you, I cannot provide a safe passage to the citadel where I have erected a shield, otherwise I would have done so. That is why I asked you to explore the planet G’areen, not only for supplies, I hoped you would eventually be able to establish a discourse with someone there who would help you.”

  T’Hargen’s analytical disposition fired.

  “What if we sent troops to you via the teleporter?”

  “What would happen after, if you were successful in evicting the Bluthen? Could the Alliance afford to leave troops here, send ships to prevent the Bluthen from returning?”

  “Where is this planet situated?”

  The air before him swirled and a three-dimensional image of this sector of space appeared. He recognised the green, white, and blue of G’areen. Another orb pulsed orange.

  “That is Labringal, this planet.”

  It wasn’t close, but close enough, about ten days’ travel and just outside the perimeter of Alliance space.

  “How far out are the Bluthen reinforcements?”

  “Their arrival is imminent.”

  Naturally. Pitballs, no we don’t have enough spare military resources to guard a planet not in our space. But then . . . if that’s the case, what’s the point in sending troops to any Masterframe? Some sense that he’d missed something gesticulated wildly at the back of his brain. He hunted through their recent narrative for a clue to the agitation. Wait, she said—

  “You said Masterframes could provide a secure haven for the descendants. What did you mean by that? I assume more than a shield about a citadel.” An image of three conical spires erupted to the forefront of his brain. “What do the towers do?”

  “When activated the towers provide a planetary security net. Only authorised ships are permitted entry.”

  What? A planetary security net! “Why in Trog’s sacs didn’t you mention this before?”

  “It cannot be accomplished here.”

  “Explain.”

  “A descendant is required for each tower.”

  “Could I act as a substitute? As an adjunct I can activate the teleportation system.”

  Perhaps if adjuncts could, they could recruit another from one of the Blufem. That way Kathryn would not have to face another BMI. A hollow sigh echoed down his ear canal.

  “I would very much like to provide a haven for descendants, as New Earth will, but not at the expense of a life.”

  “Is that a yes or a no?”

  “You could teleport safely to a tower, yes, but the result of interaction with the Brain Machine Interface there that will activate the tower’s support of the net is inconclusive. You may die, you may not. You may be harmed, you may not. I cannot even predict if you would be successful in initiating the tower. The point is moot, the route to the tower teleporters is perilous, and I will not endanger descendants.”

  Kathryn’s mouth opened, then closed with a snap. Fear and denial sharpened her features. Her lips pressed together as though forcefully preventing words from springing forth.

  “I need to do this, my love,” he said.

  Her lips softened, trembled, firmed again, and she gave him a short, sharp nod.

  “I’m willing,” Shaharna piped up.

  T’Hargen looked down on the small woman. She was prepared to face unknown dangers in order to help others. Was that the compassion gene, or herself? Andvara approached Shaharna and whispered to her. The other women joined the soft discussion. Shaharna turned back to Kathryn, but included him with a swift, demure glance.

  “If there is to be an attack, they want to go back to the settlement and liberate as many women as possible. There are some there that we haven’t been able to contact yet, that we know would cherish a chance at a better life. If you agree, Masterframe we would like to offer all the women the opportunity to remain here with you, after the attack is successful.”

  So not just the compassion gene.

  These women were courageous and honourable. They’d be an asset to any community.

  “You can count me in, too,” Kathryn said.

  NO!

  He should have known she would not evade a task such as this. He forced a deep breath into his lungs and clamped his teeth together to deny the word expression. Kathryn ran her hand up his arm, over his shoulder, then patted his chest.

  “Now you comprehend the depth of my concern for you. Should my fears be any less valid than yours?”

  He stared down at her, heart punching his chest in rapid blows as though punishing him for even considering the idea, knowing what she would have to face. He should have kept his mouth shut. His willingness to rise to her ideal of him fought like a demented laraxdon against his protectiveness. He wrapped her hand in his, lifted it, and kissed her knuckles.

  “No, my love”—he delighted in the sparkle that intimate appellation brought to her eyes—“and I understand, but I do not believe there is any more risk involved in this than piloting an air vehicle through crowded city airspace. It will be alright.”

  “It bloody better be.” She unfurled her fingers from his grasp and stroked his jaw. “Besides, you and TL always keep me safe, my love.”

  Excitement for his future with her fizzed in him like sparks tracking the cord to a bolt of mega-yield explosive.

  “But you, will you be . . . able?”

  She flapped a nonchalant hand at him. “Eh. BMI, shmee-M-I. I’ll be fine.”

  “Masterframe, what risk is involved with the journey to the teleporters?”

  “I cannot allow this.”

  Kathryn stood back from him and huffed a humourless sigh.
“Yeah, well we’re not about to let you do a Shalringfrey on us, Masterframe, not if we have a feasible alternative.”

  “I do not follow your meaning.”

  “You plan to blow yourself up,” Kathryn accused, “just like she did, if the Bluthen look like making a successful incursion through your fire walls, or your shield.”

  “You must leave, and soon.”

  “Why?” he demanded.

  “Security forces approach this place.”

  Kathryn glanced at him. “Looking for their comrades?”

  He nodded. “They would investigate any non-conformance to protocol, especially this close to our space. Most likely the Bluthen who were transported to G’areen have failed to make a scheduled report. How many?” he asked Masterframe.

  “Fifty.”

  Kathryn’s eyebrows rose sharply then she frowned. “That’s an awful lot of investigation.”

  “This area has provided numerous anomalies for them. The squads they send gain in size.”

  Kathryn crossed her arms and rested her weight on her hips as though readying to transform into a stalagmite. “Then I guess you’d better give us some directions to the tower teleporters toot sweet, before they arrive and start scouting.”

  His strong woman. Pride washed through him. She was right, he could and would keep her safe.

  They could do this.

  “Don’t argue with her, Masterframe, you’re wasting time.”

  “They will search this area thoroughly, you must take the Blufem and go!”

  “Masterframe, we have a window of opportunity here to secure this haven for descendants and hopefully bring aid to other Bluthen women in need of it. If the approaching Bluthen discover the small pillar, you know this area will soon after be swarming with troops.”

  A moment ticked by. Two. “My sisters are in agreement with you. They have already contacted General Mhartak and are organising troops to be relayed here through New Earth. I have been able to provide him with Bluthen troop numbers. Once the towers are initiated and the security net in place, General Mhartak’s troops will engage the enemy. The success of our actions will vastly be improved if the security net is activated before the enemy reinforcements arrive.”

  “Naturally. Do we have time to shepherd the Blufem to the small pillar and get back into concealment before the Bluthen approaching here arrive?”

  A second or two of stubborn silence rung in the air.

  “Yes. They aren’t . . . Their, er, proximity is not . . .”

  “Understood. You were just trying to hurry us along.”

  “You will be well on your way before the enemy arrive. Thank you.”

  “Excellent. I presume, Masterframe, that if I am unsuccessful in linking with the BMI that you will teleport Kathryn and Shaharna to your citadel and back to New Earth?”

  “I will ensure the return of everyone.”

  He understood her. She would see his body back with those it belonged if that was what transpired.

  He pulled a secondary communication device from a pocket and tapped directives onto the screen.

  “My brother will have his elite troops stationed at the minor pillar on G’areen. This will advise them to care for the Blufem,”—or face my extreme displeasure—“to provide them with translators and have Ambassador Sandrea convey them to New Earth Masterframe with all possible speed. Ssileela Shaharna please advise Ssileela Andvara to tap this button”—he indicated an icon—“as soon as they arrive on the other planet. Assure her they will be well provided for and no harm will come to them.”

  Eyes wide, Shaharna carefully took the comm from him then transferred her gaze to Kathryn. His beloved stared intently at the other woman.

  “T’Hargen wouldn’t lie to you, Sharharna. Your friends will be completely safe. I can assure you that my friend Sandrea will crochet a doily out of the guts of anyone who even offers the Blufem the least slight. Tell them the troops that will be sent here will have orders to ensure the women’s safety. Right, Masteframe?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Your friends will be safer with New Earth,” Kathryn said.

  Shaharna turned and murmured to the huddled Blufem.

  “Very well, Masterframe,” he said, “what’s involved with our path?”

  “Below us are the catacombs of the Falni, a species who once had close ties with the Progenitors, you must navigate these burial chambers.”

  His scanner vibrated and he reached for it to find a schematic of the passages and a set of coordinates.

  “Then pass through the white woods to the green labyrinth. At its centre you will find the tower teleporter.”

  He frowned. “What about this route is so perilous?”

  “My molecular transmitters do not function very far into the catacombs, I cannot guide you should you lose your way.”

  “Is the map you provided incorrect?”

  “Not that I am aware, however changes and disruptions may have occurred in the tunnels. There have been tectonic movements since they were first delved. I have also detected frequent Bluthen patrols in the vicinity of the woods.”

  “One more thing, Masterframe,” Kathryn said. “If descendants are required to run the towers, can we assume they have never been tested?”

  “That is correct.”

  “Wonderful.” Kathryn clapped her hands and rubbed them together. “Okay! Not to worry. T’Hargen and TL will get us there, Masterframe. It’ll be a piece of cake.”

  Chapter 13

  Three hundred and one, three hundred and two . . .

  Kat stared down at the seemingly endless descent before her feet. Fatigue trembled and burned through her thigh muscles. Her legs begged for a change in action. Over three hundred steps and TL’s lights showed the circular, stone ramp still went down, down.

  At first the spiral slope cut into the rock and curling around a sky-blue solid core of crystal had charmed her. By step two hundred she’d begun to lose her enjoyment of the aesthetics. After that it all went downhill, so to speak. And then there were the corpses. Falni corpses encased in the crystal shroud. Yes, she’d known they were entering a catacomb and had prepared herself and Shaharna for that. What she hadn’t envisaged was that the Falni would be so well preserved they appeared alive.

  Bit on the disturbing side, that.

  Especially as the faces on the Falni’s caftan-shaped bodies appeared eerily human. Her tolerance level for disturbing would have redlined into prodigiously spooked if she hadn’t had other things on her mind. Faced directly with her worst fear—yes, T’Hargen being hurt or killed definitely trumped coming face-to-face with a live Bluthen—she found it difficult to find the courage of her convictions. Saying she would accept and support T’Hargen in his dangerous endeavours was a lot damned easier than living it.

  He’d said he needed to do this, to attempt a connection with the BMI that could result in harm or worse. She could see that. He did. It was what he did. Taking the risks that needed taking. She acknowledged that somewhere in the back of her mind she’d half-hoped he’d give up the dangerous missions for her. Now she fully accepted that to do so would weigh on his soul. Defending the innocent, those weaker, was part of who he was. For him to deny it would be to take a corrosive to his very character. For her to ask him not to be himself, she’d be the cause of that corrosion. Hell, it’d be by her hand.

  She couldn’t ask him not to be him, to change a fundamental part of himself. It would be like him asking her not to be a psychologist. To not help people through their emotional turmoil, to knowingly allow them to self-destruct, to stand by and do nothing when she knew she could help ease their suffering, help them find a way back to the light.

  Perhaps Matthew had done the right thing being true to himself. If he’d changed what she’d love
d about him, would she have still loved him? Would he have still loved himself? If he had become someone he didn’t like, would he have blamed her, resented her for it?

  Well she’d better put her big girl panties on and suck it up, buttercup. And so had T’Hargen—That didn’t come out right—because he needn’t think she was going to sit meekly at home while he saved the world—or worlds. She now had concrete evidence that her theories were correct and she was damn well going to pursue them.

  She turned and cast a look over her shoulder.

  “You okay, Shaharna?”

  The silver specs in her new friend’s eyes sparkled with excitement, a smile curved her lips. “Yes!”

  “How’re the feet?”

  “Masterframe has healed me well.”

  “Good. Your boots don’t hurt?”

  “Not at all.”

  “How’s the translator going?”

  Shaharna lifted a hand and gently rubbed the small black patch behind her cute little ear-bulge. “Sh—Masterframe made it very comfortable, and I am happy that when we are away from the mol-ec-u-lar transmitters I will know what everyone is saying, I like that, especially when TL sings.”

  “Yeah, his warbling and fluting is lovely.”

  “We near the end,” T’Hargen informed.

  Halle-freakin-lujah.

  A few more steps and she nearly cried with joy as she placed her feet on a flat, roughly semi-circular slab of rock. She heaved a sigh of relief, her legs would have too if they’d been able. TL illuminated three level-floored—Thank goodness for that—pointed-arch tunnels about ten feet away.

  T’Hargen turned. His assessing gaze ran over her from top to bottom. Then he transferred his focus to Shaharna.