The Ghost of Sephera

by J. D. Tew

  ‘ED, activate the exothermic heating system.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  As we descended further, we were now passing through a gigantic hole in the planet’s crust. Everyone gaped as they stared through the view screen at the cross-section of the ice plate, about one mile thick. For a long time, we thought we were entering a dead end, into nothing but a bottomless pit. Constantly fighting off a deep sense of dread, our spirits rose considerably as we finally cleared the crust, and saw the gorgeous infused light that spread everywhere through the many perforations in the planet’s surface. Too bad no one on Foita would ever see a sunrise or sunset, I thought. At least not a real one.

  Now we sighed with contentment as we approached a subterranean cityscape as familiar as that of any major metropolitan on Earth. Tall skyscrapers dominated the horizon, yet the architecture was far more futuristic, involving towers that warped, twisted and bent out of shape to create a stunning panorama. While the immediate sky above us was somewhat dim thanks to its surrounding crust, the gloom was by far compensated by a glowing incandescence from the millions of lights that adorned the city. Everywhere were space shuttles and gigantic starships that zoomed in and out.

  Yet, as we drew closer and closer, I grew fearful that our ship would crash within the chaotic bustle of airborne traffic that surrounded us. I shouted, ‘ED, get the coordinator on the line now!’

  Ed said, ‘Yes, just a moment, Theodore, while I bring them up. Liam, see that chrome lever in front of you? Twist it halfway. After two clicks, push it in clockwise.’

  ‘Aye-aye Eddy!’ Liam shouted.

  Ed said, ‘We are queued up for communication! Theodore, ready a response.’

  ‘What is your business in Booyang?’ The traffic coordinator asked, seeming curious, as his hologram confirmed; he was squinting at us.

  ‘We are here for bartering. That is all.’

  ‘We have directed a trail beam to your ship; it is green. Follow the trail beam’s flight plan; it will guide you. The containment hatches will open, and your entry will be facilitated. Uraquool Doods Kot!’ Uraquool Doods Kot, was Rangier for welcome home friend.

  Sure enough, the traffic coordinators catapulted a tiny unmanned aerial vessel to mark out a green path, composed entirely of a hologram tunnel-shaped image, only a foot wide that twisted and turned to mark the flight plan to the landing spot. ED programmed Freebird to follow it. We only needed it for a short duration, until the landing strobes were visible.

  In preparing for the expedition into town, I told everyone that we would need to cover our faces so we would not be identified. Humans in Booyang were still a rare find.

  In response, ED made an interesting suggestion. ‘Theodore, there is a vial of chromatophoric pills in the lab. Each tablet would give you forty five minutes of disguise.’

  ‘Is it safe?’ I asked. ‘Where did it come from?’

  ‘It seems the animal containment area was for animal testing. It is widely used among the Urilians, Bromels and Karshiz. Your reaction would be unpredictable, to say the least, because it has not yet been tried on humans.’

  ‘Let’s do it!’ I shouted.

  ‘Dude, I’m not taking some weird pill!’ Dan yelled.

  ‘What parts of our body does it change? How does it work?’ Mariah asked.

  ‘Mariah, your skin will match the colors you conjure within your mind. Upon commands from your brain, the cytokines are released. If you’re imagining a Cliguiron Nebula, for example, then your skin will turn purple and blue.’

  “Whoa!’ exclaimed Dan. ‘Who thought of this?’

  ‘This pill was developed by extracting hormones and cytokines from Karshiz chameleonagons, similar to the chameleons of earth; they have four colors available to them. Humans have melanocytes, which are capable of producing three of the same colors, red, yellow, and brown, but substituting orange for blue. Therefore, you all will be restricted to certain color combinations. Only your skin will be affected. No guarantees, though.’

  ‘There,’ I said, crossing my arms, satisfied with ED’s explanation. ‘Now, the moment we land, I want all of us to consume one tablet. Understood?’

  ‘Got it, Theodore!’ Liam said.

  ‘Dan?’ I asked.

  ‘It sounds like fun, actually,’ Dan said. ‘But we have no clue what danger we face in this place, Booyang or whatever you call it.’

  ‘Will you stop? We don’t have many choices!’ Mariah yelled, as a gust of wind nearly knocked our ship off its trajectory, causing Mariah to lose her balance and nearly drop her rifle.

  ‘Hold on!’ ED yelled.

  ‘Quit fighting, or I’ll squish your puny heads,’ Liam growled.

  As we approached the incomprehensibly gigantic hangar hatch door, driven by massive pistons, it started to open. Huge spinning scrub brushes cleared excess snow and ice off our ship, as if we were in a massive interplanetary car wash.

  ‘Now let’s move!’ I said. I wanted to motivate the crew before the hatch to our ship opened. ‘Stand by with your weapons at your side! Take the pigment-altering pills. If anyone asks, we are Klingons from Qo’nos.’

  ‘Nice, Theodore. You’re such a dork,’ Dan said, scowling at me.

  ‘I think it’s cute,’ Mariah said.

  I kept a straight face; though, I felt my skin blushing with red. I motioned for my nervous crew to follow me, while we waited for the hatch of our ship to drop. Our skin started to change to different colors; Mariah was turning an extremely dark shade of red and brown; Dan and I were transitioning into a deep shade of yellow, and Liam, who was a freckled Irish red head, turned a ghostly white with red orange spots the size of silver dollars.

  ‘Theodore looks like a banana!’ Dan yelled.

  Liam said, ‘Look at your reflection.’

  ‘Shit!’ Dan screamed. ‘I’m the shade of my sister’s lucky leotard!’

  ‘Ha-ha! Okay, now lock it up! Prepare for dismount, and clear the hangar. We will pull security once the room is clear!’

  We entered the hangar by sprinting through the opened drop-hatch of our ship.

  Over an intercom came a female voice. ‘Traders, please exit through the hatch in front of you. The market will be to your immediate left.’

  ‘Theodore, I will hold back behind our group by about fifteen feet so it does not look like I am affiliated with you. If there are any Urilians here, they will be alarmed by an Urilian emergency robot walking with a party of humans,’ ED stated.

  I said, ‘If you insist.’ Urilian robots stuck out like a hangnail on a manicured thumb.

  The market sector of Booyang was far more advanced than the bazaar we experienced on Karshiz. Customers were paying through voice command, as merchants’ devices collected and analyzed the voices of each shopper, making transactions efficient. The market sector beguilingly combined market shops at street level with towering dwellings stacked above, facilitating compact living. Such enticing structures towered upward, a few nearby nestled against the very ceiling of the subterranean metropolis, which was nearly one thousand feet above our heads. This colossal roof surrounding the entire metropolis emitted a clever artificial sunlight ambience that probably explained the ability to sustain small evergreen plants dangling from multiple terraces.

  Pedestrians wore modern, light minimalistic clothes despite the icy reputation of this planet. These outfits, consisted of a highly sophisticated thread network of fiber optic heating elements and exotic fabrics, fitting for the cold, yet maintaining a fashionable presence. Men wore boho-chic wool tops with plunging necklines, and khaki-style shorts with leather strings as belts, preferring shades of brown, red, yellow, and orange. Meanwhile women dressed in cool blue or green shants—those three-quarter pants—accentuated with varying Cliguire fur pelts and knee-high boots.

  I saw a shop that sold dirt, which was pricy: forty-three dollars a bag. Compared to Earth, this was bordering upon extortion! Supply and demand dictates.

  The bartering town of Booyang was a
dequately closed off to the frigid weather above, although there were icicles hanging from the water filtration reservoirs that hung from many balconies. The higher the apartment in a multi-residential tower, the closer a resident was to the biting cold above. A woman peering out of an open window on the tenth story vigorously shook a bucket, dumping snow into one of these interesting water reservoirs. She pressed a button and walked away; it seemed they were harvesting and filtering freshly fallen snow for water. The multiplicity of ice shredding modules, entrenched in the hull above, sent systematic localized snowfalls showering down toward the residential complex.

  The streets were clean and made from an apparently indestructible material that showed no signs of wear. The majority of passing civilians wore occiptores, which were image projection bands indicative of Rangier culture. The population consisted mainly of Rangiers, but a few Karshiz pedestrians jogged by us, exercising. There were a few unidentifiable races navigating the tight market quadrant, but I didn’t want to strain my focus on something not pertinent.

  We stood by for a moment as Mariah entered a store to stroke a trendy fur coat and try on some boots. She pressed a button on the side of the boots and each boot changed color completely—from purple to orange. ‘Now this is something we should have on Earth!’ she declared.

  Meanwhile, Dan was mesmerized by a storefront display at a rad sporting goods boutique. The hologram practically hypnotized him, as it demonstrated hover board tricks from professional rail boarders.

  Liam, as usual, smacked his lips as a beast rotated on a spit located behind an open-air market. The bistro supplied eco-friendly plates and cutlery that disintegrated within several minutes after only a press of a button, activating a base and catalyst layer within the eating tools which dissolved them completely. An obnoxious server demonstrated the activation process for his patrons, at table side. Garnering my attention again, the revolving roast laced the air with a savory scent—accentuating it with an aromatic bouquet of toasted herbs. I was succumbing to the aroma, slipping into a near-food induced catatonia as saliva pooled in my mouth.

  I looked back at the others and signaled for them to hold tight to their gear, worrying that vandals could raid us for our unique weapons, until I saw an Exogen patrolling about. This monstrosity made me feel better about city security.

  ‘You still have the coordinates for Xilothion Square?’ I asked ED.

  ‘Yes, Theodore. We have been making steady progress. I anticipated that we would be there in two point three morgets, and I have erred.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘We will be there in two point one morgets. It appears we will be a bit early.’

  ‘Don’t kill yourself over it,’ I groaned to ED. Using a twirling motion with my arm, I called for everyone to rally at my position. Finally, the sun simulation was beginning to set, signaling that Trazuline’s arranged appointment was about to commence. The sky illusion of dusk presented a golden hue, transitioning to a warm orange. ‘Okay, guys, as planned, we’re here. Window shopping is officially over.’

  ‘Aw, boo,’ Mariah whined, but I could tell she was not too heartbroken about the shift in our activity.

  Finally, I saw the Xilothion Square that Trazuline had mentioned. The five ice sculptures standing majestically in the center were like nothing I had ever seen—eight meters tall. A mechanical lift hoisted a worker wearing a red beret up to the height of the ice statue to the left. He was chiseling away at the ice with a rotary tool, ejecting a flurry of snow onto the intrigued bystanders below.

  ‘There! The statue of Gillard Tannon!’ ED shouted. Oddly, the ice sculpture bore a striking resemblance to Nilo. As we drew closer, Dan remarked that it looked identical to his dudical Rangier pal from Karshiz.

  Dan grabbed me and I could feel his hot breath upon my neck. ‘Dude. It’s fricken chilly here.’

  ‘I thought I could take the cold,’ Liam said. ‘This is like January in Minnesota!’

  Crude as usual, Dan blurted out, ‘My balls are shriveled up, like my grandpa’s prunes.’

  ‘TMI Dan!’ Mariah shouted.

  ‘Now it’s time to see Trazuline,’ ED said. ‘The appointed hour has come.’

  ‘Where is he?’ I asked, looking around yet attempting to appear as inconspicuous as possible.

  People streamed nonchalantly around us as we walked toward the statue. Just as I hoped we were about to see Trazuline, people started screaming. A massive flash of light exploded high above the crowd, causing onlookers to shriek and scramble for cover.

  ‘What’s going on?’ shouted Mariah, her eyes betraying fear.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said, as dread settled in the pit of my stomach, ‘but this looks like someone’s invading the town square through teleportation!’

  Forming like a pile of sand at the bottom of an hourglass, the bodies of Odion’s Dacturons materialized. People screamed as they pointed at the menacing invading force, and ran off in all directions toward safety.

  What vile beings! Over one hundred of them, forming a circular ring facing outwards, protecting their inner flanks and ready for an ambush.

  These dastardly invaders had pale yellow eyes with oversize black pupils, peering out from the pale green complexion on their skin. Much like giant insects, they had giant saw-toothed mandibles jutting out from their jaws, ready to snatch their prey. Varying in their repugnant looks, some had short one-inch red tusks protruding alongside the hide on their mandibles, while others had six to eight short blue horns jutting out from their foreheads.

  As if those higher in rank felt the need to disavow themselves of the repulsive features of their subordinates, the commanders had elected surgery in order to remove their horns or tusks, but they still possessed these terrifying mandibles.

  Moreover, they were equipped for battle. The Dacturons’ uniforms were composed of kevlar, one of the hardest non-metallic substances known, and five times stronger than steel. Those layers of thin armor were so flexible that they practically sheathed the muscles of these warriors as they moved in for the kill.

  As I watched, horrified, the Dacturon closest to me quickly extended his arm to a fleeing Rangier. Using a strange kinetic power that radiated from his hand, the solider froze the Rangier’s escape and propelled him about six feet above ground. Clenching his fist, the remorseless Dacturon odiously squeezed the life out of his victim without laying a finger on him. The Rangier’s body now lay suspended in the air, limp—similar to how my grandparents died back on Earth. A smile sliced a devilish crease along the Dacturon’s face from ear to ear, revealing a set of razor sharp fangs that could probably cut through bone like a knife through butter.

  Immediately afterwards, three Dacturon soldiers turned toward me and my crew, their scowls imparting a horrifying intensity into all of us. Retreat was the only sound course of action.

  ‘Run!’ I ordered. Our bizarre multi-colored complexions were still holding, and therefore strategically important in our moment of retreat.

  My crew followed my frantic spurt into a small alleyway between two buildings. From our secure location, I could see the commander using a bioscan. He looked up from the device toward our position, and I quickly leaned backward, considering that maybe he saw me.

  ‘What the hell are we waiting for, dude?’ Dan whispered as we watched the debacle unfolding in the market square. ‘Let’s go back to the ship!’

  ‘No,’ I whispered back to my crew. ‘We can’t abandon Trazuline. He said Pritok would show up if hell broke loose.’

  ‘Hell sure broke loose,’ Dan grumbled.

  People passed through the alleyway, brushing alongside of our huddle. Suddenly, I felt someone burst into our huddle, laying a hand on my shoulder from behind, savagely jerking me about. ‘Mariah, lay off!’ I yelled, and when I turned, a Karshiz man stood before me, dressed in civilian clothes.

  ‘You and your crew might want to come with me, Theodore, quickly,’ he said. He knew my name! Who was he? ‘Make a move now, sir, or you’l
l be forgotten much sooner than you had ever imagined. Grab your crew and let’s go. Trazuline sent me.’

  ‘Hey! Identify yourself!’ Liam yelled at the mysterious man.

  ‘I am Migon, direct subordinate to Captain Pritok. We don’t have time! Follow me! I am a friend.’

  While we fled, the commander I had feared of possibly spotting me, had round the corner with a squad of Dacturons.

  Each of our team linked hands into a human chain, except for ED, who knew to follow us. Migon, bringing up the rear, threw a grenade over his shoulder. After the grenade landed, billows of thick gas poured out from it, screening our retreat, and blanketing the Dacturon squad tailing us.

  An Exogen passed us; this massive, fifteen-foot tall robot that encapsulated a Rangier soldier within its torso had the size and the power to freak out even Odion himself. If it would ally with us—and it definitely would not allow the Dacturons to advance any closer to Eppa—this could be the key factor in turning the fortunes of the skirmish our way.

  I tailed the sentinel with my eyes, seeing the Rangier pilot within the Exogon, through a transparent windshield; he was shouting orders. The giant-like Exogen started firing plasma from four mounted shoulder cannons, a pair of which were attached to each of its right and left shoulders; this action obliterated four Dacturons. These four invaders shrieked upon being blasted, and writhed on the ground before convulsing and dying away.

  I let go of the chain of people fleeing from the fight, stopping and hoping to catch a glimpse of the Dacturon’s tactics.

  The Dacturon commanders had prepared well for the fight, and they must have had anticipated the presence of the formidable Exogens. Upon cue, the Dacturon commander planted an electromagnetic bomb close behind the Exogen. Before the Exogen could detect the bomb, it exploded, momentarily disabling but not devastating the Exogen, which was well fortified to withstand such subversive attacks. Nonetheless, that brief parry gave the Dacturons an edge. More Exogens arrived, and the Dacturons fled into the shops to evade them. From the lower lateral portion of the Exogen, left and right side, two android sentinels, shaped like dogs and made of titanium, pursued the fleeing Dacturons. It seemed the Exogens were fulfilling their role to protect, as these close-quarters sentinels dragged a Dacturon commander out of the building kicking and screaming.