“I would like to accompany you.”
Tristain thought for a moment. “It might be best if I went alone in the first instance. You must both stay with the ship until I’m sure it’s safe.”
James nodded, and he had noted the tone of command in Tristain’s voice and he sensed that it would not be wise to cross his newfound alien cousin. Tristain turned to the main console, engaged the Star Drive, and jumped the ship away from the Cartigian solar system. When they returned to normal space they were a couple of light years away from the system. She turned to Cassiopeia.
“Plot us a course that will bring us back to the Cartigian planet. We need to return to normal space close to the planet’s atmosphere and beyond their defence systems. Cut all power the moment we arrive. We then need to locate a deserted landing site as close as possible to their main city.”
Cassiopeia was silent for several seconds. “The course is laid in, Tristain.”
“Right.” Tristain engaged the drive again. A short while later they arrived back in the Cartigian solar system. James gasped at the sight of the blue planet filling the view ports. All system power was immediately cut to a minimum. The small ship drifted while Cassiopeia scanned for any evidence of detection. They waited quietly, no one speaking.
The silence was broken by Tristain, who had been watching the computer scans. “We haven’t been detected. There’s a deserted wooded area in the hills close to the main city, we will land there.”
She slowly fed power to the engines to drop them out of orbit, and they moved into the night. Tristain hoped they would look like a common meteorite. She held her breath, half-expecting the sensors to alert her that they had been detected. The planetary defence systems remained quiet; their low power free fall was passing unnoticed. The ship bucked and bounced as they plunged into the planet’s atmosphere. When they were just over a kilometre from the surface Tristain hit the braking thrusters hard. The harness straps bit into her shoulders and chest, making it hard to breathe; the inertial dampeners barely coped with the hard deceleration. She turned the ship back and dropped it into a small clearing on a heavily wooded hillside several kilometres from the city. There was a final lurch as they hit the ground. The landing gear sank as it took the impact, and Tristain prayed it would hold and not break. The designers and engineers had done their job well as the landing gear absorbed the shock and held. She immediately cut all power and let out her breath with a loud sigh.
There was silence broken only by the ticking and creaking of the ship’s hull as it cooled from the fast entry. Tristain unclipped her harness and stood. She flexed her arms to relieve the nervous tension and the ache across her shoulders.
She turned towards James as he remarked, “Bloody hell! That was some ride!” She smiled, the tone of the remark reminded her of her father.
“OK, we will get something to eat, then I’ll take a look at the city. I want you to remain here with Cassiopeia please, James – I can move unnoticed on my own and see what’s going on. A group of us might attract unwanted attention.” James opened his mouth to protest then thought better of it and nodded.
“Cassiopeia, please keep the power to a minimum, but maintain a small perimeter with your sensors. Let me know if anything comes close.”
“Yes, Tristain.”
James accompanied Tristain to the galley. “Can I look around outside please? This is the first time I’ve been on an alien planet!”
Tristain smiled and nodded. “Of course, but stay close to the ship and do whatever Cassiopeia asks. She will be aware of what is going on around you and will warn you of any danger.”
When she had finished eating, Tristain put on the padded cloak Cassiopeia had prepared. She pulled the hood over her head. “Does it conceal my face adequately?”
“Yes, it’s in shadow,” James replied.
“Good, I will go.” She checked the status of her folded battle armour that looked nothing more than a thick utility belt. Her staff was attached to the belt fully retracted. She strapped a pistol to her leg and took two spare power packs.
She turned to the airlock. “I will be back in twelve hours, and I’ll maintain contact as long as I can. Cassiopeia, don’t increase the range by expending extra power.”
No, Tristain of course not.
Tristain ignored the edge of sarcasm in Cassiopeia’s thought. Damn AI, it was sometimes so like a real person that it was easy to forget it was a machine! She thought to herself. She clicked her tongue with irritation and pushed the airlock release. As there was a breathable atmosphere both doors slid open noiselessly.
Tristain stepped out. She felt the chill breeze on her face and shivered involuntarily; the change from the controlled atmosphere of her ship was marked. She looked up, seeing large grey clouds moving swiftly across the sky with the occasional break letting sunlight stream through. There was a light drizzle. She pulled her hood further over her head to prevent the water hitting her face.
Underfoot was a short grass-like plant that swished against her boots. She quickly reached the trees at the perimeter of the clearing and plunged into the wood. The trees were well spaced and the covering of fallen leaves kept the ground clear of plants, making the walking easy. She quickly broke free from the wood and, reaching a road. She turned towards the city. Fortunately, the traffic was light with a few people walking; some pushing carts a typical Cartigian planet with marked contrasts between the high technology rich and the poor. Tristain kept to the side to avoid the occasional wheeled vehicles moving at high speed; she didn’t want to get knocked down. Every so often she checked in with Cassiopeia.
Is everything OK?
Yes, it is all clear.
Tristain reached the outskirts of the city in just under two hours. The city was dark and uninviting, and the buildings were low and solid. There were very few tall structures. She slipped into the side streets and passed unnoticed into the city.
Ten: Extinction
Octavian stretched and shivered, since the old cellar he had found was cold. Dampness dripped off the walls from his breath and his cooking. He had been in the city slums for a well over a month now, and as far as he could tell there had not been any pursuit. He had managed to steal a video entertainment system and had watched the news broadcasts. He had wandered about during the day but had not found out any useful information.
He shivered again and pulled his cloak tightly about him. There was no one else in this small deserted cellar. He had been lucky to find it, as many were already occupied by drunks and dropouts. He sat up as the watery dawn light was streaming in through the small high window. He reached over and picked up the remains of his previous night’s meal; it would do for breakfast. As he ate the cold meal, he considered his position. He had not obtained any significant intelligence; it was time to move on.
He could go down to the docks and stow away on one of the surface cargo ships. He might have better luck on another continent. His other option was to go to the city space port and steal a space ship, a far more risky option. He sighed, he had probably been better off if he had stayed on Cartigia; at least they had regarded him as a God!
There was one final thing he could try. There was to be a slave market today. He frowned at the thought of slavery! It was disgusting. Apparently, a new shipment had arrived that was to include at least one Mordavian. Octavian liked the dark Mordavians as a race. In his time they had been an upright, friendly, and trustworthy people. They had some minor telepathic ability like the Sicceians, but they were not arrogant like them.
His breakfast finished, he turned on the video to check the planetary news, but as usual he found nothing of interest. He shivered again; the cold and damp was beginning to seep into his bones.
He stood and pulled the hood of his cloak down to cover his face from passers-by. He checked his computer, all was clear and quiet. He felt for his staff weapon to ensure it was not caught up in the folds of his cloak. A feeling of depression and foreboding gripped him. He hated this
planet. And the Cartigians were not his favourite race either! He stepped out into the morning drizzle and shivered again. There were a few others on the sidewalk and several ground vehicles passing down the street. He started towards the market square where the slave auctions were held, and after a few minutes’ walk he arrived at his destination.
The square started to fill so he stood in the shadow of one of the buildings and watched. His plan was to wait and see who purchased the Mordavian, follow them, then knock them out with his staff and snatch the Mordavian slave. Once he had questioned the slave, he planned to steal a ship and leave this cursed place with the Mordavian. He knew there was an AI on the Mordavian planet – perhaps it might still be active. He would then have all the backup, and facilities he needed so he could plan what he should do.
He scanned the gathering crowd with his mind; there was nothing, just emptiness. Exactly what he expected. He did sense the Mordavian –its mind was in turmoil, and he could have calmed their thoughts but he did not want to do anything that might give himself away. He didn’t know what the Mordavian would do if he touched its mind. He stood quietly and did nothing, waiting and watching.
The auction started. Most of the slaves were low cast Cartigians. There were one or two other races but none of any interest to him. Suddenly, the Mordavian was called forward. It was a middle-aged female in what appeared to be the remains of a uniform. It was not in a style that Octavian recognised, but it did seem to be that of an officer. The Cartigian auctioneer announced that she was an ex-cruiser officer and the last of her kind. Octavian almost gasped out loud. How could she possibly be the last? They were in his time a vibrant race with many colonies. Some dreadful disaster must have beset them for her to be the last! He hoped that did not mean that their planetary AI was destroyed as well.
The bidding was fierce for a while then resolved itself down to two bidders –one was a middle-aged fat Cartigian male; the other was a particularly ugly Cartigian female with several retainers. Octavian hoped the lone, fat Cartigian won the auction. He didn’t see how he could deal with several burly retainers without drawing attention to what was happening.
The auction ended, and to his relief the fat male Cartigian won. Octavian watched him carefully as the remaining ‘lots’ were auctioned off. The fat Cartigian went round the back of the dais and paid for his new slave. He collected her from the cages and started to walk out of the square. She was chained, so it was impossible for her to run. Octavian sensed her broken spirit and she were not about to put up any resistance. They left the square with Octavian shadowing them, and walked down a busy main street. Octavian kept his mind open and alert. He felt strangely uneasy, something was not right; he could not pin it down and it concerned him. He looked round and thought he saw a shadow, but it was nothing. He shrugged and continued following the Cartigian and his slave.
They turned down a deserted side street. Octavian could not believe his luck, it was just what he was hoping for. He let them get halfway down the street then, quickly extending his staff, he struck. Octavian hit the Cartigian hard, knocking him out cold. The Mordavian turned round. Octavian sensed the surprise in her mind and then something else. The hair on the back of his neck tingled, and he instinctively ducked. He felt the draft of the staff as it swung where his head would have been. He spun on his heel and held his staff forward, barely managing to block the second blow. His attacker was in a dark cloak with the hood drawn forward over their face. One thought passed through Octavian’s mind: taller than a Cartigian. He was then fighting for his life, he had never faced someone as fast and as skilled as this with a staff. He was outclassed; sweat glistened at his brow as he held off the attack but he knew it was only a matter of time. In desperation he sidestepped, rolled, and with a quick thought activated his armour. The air around him crackled as it unfolded. A question suddenly formed in his mind via his computer: are you a Guardian?
He automatically replied, yes! His opponent’s staff stopped inches from his faceplate. He shuddered. He instinctively knew if the blow had landed it could have smashed through and probably killed him.
There was a thought from his attacker, and his tactical computer formed the words in his mind: Quickly, we need somewhere to hide before we are noticed.
Octavian replied, Follow me. He grabbed the Mordavian’s chains and turned back towards his cellar, keeping an eye on his erstwhile attacker. He noticed that whoever it was kept looking back to see whether they were followed.
The Mordavian coughed then asked, “Who are you?”
Octavian hushed her. “Wait until we get back to my hiding place.”
He tried to sense the mind of the person who had attacked him, but their shield was exceptionally strong. There was no way he could force his way through. Who or what was this person? His question hung in his mind as he turned into his cellar. They had not been followed or noticed so they should be safe in his hiding place. He bid the Mordavian sit down and turned to his mysterious attacker, his thoughts full of questions.
The person threw off their cloak causing Octavian to step back in surprise; they were wearing a Guardian uniform. What took his breath away was the fact it was a young woman and quite the most beautiful one he had ever seen. She smiled, and Octavian suddenly noticed her ears.
“You are part Sicceian!” he blurted it out in his surprise. “Such a thing is forbidden.” He quickly suppressed an involuntary feeling of revulsion.
She put her head on one side; her long fair hair cascaded over her shoulder.
“Is it now? I had better have a word with my parents then.”
Octavian immediately regretted his remark. He could tell by her expression and tone of voice that he had touched a raw nerve. He hoped she had not sensed his emotions. Her existence had broken one of his people’s central dogmas. He tried to bring his thoughts under tight control, feeling attracted and repulsed by her at the same time. His shock at realising what she was had caught him off guard.
“I… I… I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I didn’t mean to cause offence.”
To his relief, her smile returned.
“So what are you doing here?” she asked. “As far as is known there are no other Guardians in existence.”
“I thought I was the only one left,” he replied. “It seems the information I have been given was wrong!”
“Yes, you are wrong, now please answer my question.”
Octavian noticed the hard edge to her voice. “I was injured and put in stasis on a medi-bed by a planetary AI. Shortly afterwards a geological disaster on the planet caused the AI to fail, but the backup systems on the medi-bed maintained the stasis. Because of an earth tremor and falling masonry damaging the medi-bed I was woken up. There was a group of Cartigians interfering with the surviving people on the planet I was on.”
“Which planet was that?” Tristain asked.
“Cartigia.”
It was Tristain’s turn to look surprised. “That is now called Earth, my father’s planet! When were you there?”
“Due to relativity, several thousand years ago.”
“Oh! OK, please go on.”
“Right, anyway…” Octavian continued, “I hitched a ride on the Cartigian sub light ship and they brought me here. I have been trying to find out what is happening since I got here. I was hoping the Mordavian would be able to provide me with the information I am looking for. I then planned to steal a ship and get off this Godforsaken planet.”
Tristain nodded and looked thoughtful. “Well it seems that we have the same goal for the moment. At least I have a ship, so you don’t need to steal one to leave here. My name is Tristain Taylor, by the way.”
She held out a slim hand. Octavian was not accustomed to this type of greeting so he quickly interrogated his personal computer. After a moment’s hesitation, he took her hand, and felt a tingle as he touched her skin. He struggled to keep his barely controlled emotions in check.
“My name is Octavian, pleased to meet you.”
The Mordavian shook herself and seemed to come out of her daze with an effort. Her eyes flicked from Tristain to Octavian and back. “We were on a routine patrol when we were surrounded by a Cartigian fleet. They came from nowhere. The last time we had any dealings with the Cartigians they had no Star Drive. We were taken by surprise. They fired on us immediately without warning. The captain gave the order to abandon ship. I was in my life pod and watched the Cartigians destroy our ship then all the life pods except mine. They took me on board and questioned me. They then sold me to a slaver, and here I am.
“As far as being the last Mordavian that is probably true. I had the distinction of being one of the last born. Our scientists were mystified for a while as to why there were no children being conceived. It started slowly a generation ago. The birth rate on our home world declined. We thought nothing of it for a while until things began to get serious. The population was plummeting. We pulled back people from our colonies, which helped for a short time. After a while colonies started to suffer the same way. It was first thought to be an unknown disease. Then, it was discovered that there was an enzyme in the planet’s water that had interfered with our genetic code. The ability of our race to reproduce had quite literally been switched off.
“By the time it was discovered, it was too late to do anything about it. I am now a member of an extinct race; there will be no more Mordavians. One other thing our scientists discovered was that the enzyme did not occur naturally on any of our planets. Someone or something had poisoned us.”
There was silence. Octavian was shocked; he could see from Tristain’s expression she felt the same. He automatically tried to sense what she was thinking, but her shield was too strong. The moment he did it he regretted his mistake. She turned and glared at him.
Guardian Generations Page 8