Terrineia

by Brian Whiting

  “Where?” Alex said knowing Symboli would be listening and knew what he was looking for.

  “This ship does not conform to known starship designs, you’ll have to search all the rooms.” Symboli responded.

  Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes turned into hours as they searched the ship. But finally he found a room which may have held the main reactor. The majority of the room was non-existent and replaced by bedrock. Dejected and depressed he wound his way back to the surface and into the twilight. His hopes of using the reactor as a power source dashed to pieces.

  Alex wandered aimlessly until he sat on top of a building, his legs dangling over the side. A huge, vast, arid land laid before him. These lands they called the Bog Lands, and like everywhere else, no one that ventured into the bog lands ever returned. Without looking he could feel where Alesti was. Behind him and to the left. He didn’t sense her with an ability like hearing thoughts, but with a deep intuition that came from having spent so much time with her. By her silence he also knew she was tired. He turned to look at her. She was leaning against a wall looking in the opposite direction. Without knowing what to say he turned back and gazed a bit longer into the blank and barren abyss before him.

  At first when he saw it it didn’t mean anything. A tiny star on the horizon. But as time went on it occurred to him the star was moving, rising from the horizon. He slowly stood on his feet and continued to stare with extreme intensity. Moments later he felt Alesti standing just to his right looking at the same thing.

  The star was getting bigger and brighter. Soon a faint noise could be heard, a repetitive thumping sound.

  “Have you ever seen anything fly through the air here?” Alex asked.

  “The Vitliking.”

  Alex gave her a quizzical look. She returned a movement with her hands, like a flapping bird.

  “An animal on the mountain, but they do not make lights or noise.” She added.

  It wasn’t long before Alex was able to make out the familiar sound, without a doubt it was a helicopter, but perhaps with a much slower beat. With a strong floodlight it lit up the area below it but didn’t linger on any building or person as it seemed to scan village and then moved on to another one a short distance away.

  “Helicopters are generally short range vehicles.” Symboli started, but Alex cut it off. “Yeah they must be from over the horizon.”

  “If they are advanced enough for air travel –“

  “Then they might have other power sources, certainly more advanced.” Alex finished with a smile.

  “We’re going!” he said standing up.

  “Where?” Alesti asked.

  “That way.” Alex pointed towards the horizon where the light had come from.

  “No, Alex you will not survive the trip.” Hu va said, startling both of them on the roof. He stepped from the stairwell and joined the two of them as he watched the helicopter on the horizon. “Every man I have sent into the bog lands even for short trips, have never returned. Have you seen that before?” He asked pointing up into the sky towards the aircraft.

  “No, but we have something much like it on my planet.” Alex said as he turned away and looked to the king.

  “It seems there are more people beyond the horizon. Have you ever heard of such a thing?” Alex asked.

  “My people have speculated for years about what is beyond the Bog lands and as I said, no one has come back alive.”

  CHAPTER 15

  LAND OF MASTERS

  (Tuline)

  A MAN WITH long flowing thick robes walked straight and with absolute purpose. He came to an abrupt stop just before a long dead table made of flora. Exquisite and unique it was a prized possession of his supervisor. The man closed his eyes and spoke one word.

  “Master.”

  He remained utterly still. Seeking the masters attention was a frightening activity.

  “Speak.” Came a dark reply.

  “Junior Master Orlock located the source of the distress beacon and has just returned from his gleaming into the lands to the south. He advised he found what he believes to be our ancient relatives from the main section of the crashed ship. The survivors are isolated around a lone mountain. He reports he had to return for more flight power. But once refilled he will finish his gleaming.”

  Moments ticked by as the Master seemed unmovable, like a statute taking in what was just said.

  “No, tell Junior Orlock that this time he is to return with one of the survivors. We must learn more about our ancestors, if we are to become untied once again.”

  In his mind he thought of several possible objections on how unwise that course of action would be. With his eyes still closed his survival instinct was hyperactive and he remained as mute as possible, just as his father had taught him. After a few moments of silence passed he knew it was time to withdraw from the room. Turning on the heels of his feet he opened his eyes and went to find Junior Master Orlock.

  It took a whole tenth of a cycle to find him. A frustratingly long time to deliver a message, he combined the excuses of such a large city and not having appropriate transportation for not being able to carry out the Masters command more swiftly. He thought about how lucky he was to attain his position, one of the youngest ever. However, due to his youth he wasn’t able to obtain other essentials like the trax or even a bilky. If he managed to survive his three years of servitude he would be beyond the wealth of any twenty annual citizen. The risks were great and many did not survive the position. He took comfort that his father and his fathers father both managed to survive the position. He came from a solely unique family of Masters Servants. A renown which helped him earn the position as primary servant to the Master.

  As fast as his feet could move, he traversed the tracks and the meanderers. His purple slouch would protect him from most threats. No one would dare harm him or incur the wrath of the Master. Making his way to the newly constructed airfield, he walked straight to where he thought Junior Master Orlock might be. To his utter dismay he was not in his assigned office. He checked his pad, his habitation was on the other side of the city but it was still midday. Not likely he would have headed home so soon.

  He was considering alternative options when another approached him.

  “Good feet for you. May I be of assistance?” came from a lesser servant, probably of the first order judging by the degradation of his attire.

  “And for you as well. I am looking for Junior Master Orlock. Master has a command for him.”

  “Follow me, I will lead you to him.”

  He followed the servant not sure who he was a servant for, perhaps for the building itself.

  “What is your name?” he asked instead.

  “Oh, I am not worthy of identification yet.”

  He was pleased his instinct was correct. It gave him a hidden satisfaction that he dared not share with anyone.

  “My name is Tuline D primary servant of the Master.”

  “Risky career you have chosen, I would not be so brave. You must have some secret however, given to you by your father perhaps. Even I have heard your name spoken before with awe and wonder.”

  Many secrets my father imparted to me, he thought to himself. As he entered a larger room he instantly understood why his charge was not in his office. He was busy eating as this must be his assigned hour. Ignoring the dozens of faces staring at him he walked directly to his charge.

  “Junior Master Orlock, I have been commanded to give you a direct order from Master. You are to return to the lands you gleamed and retrieve a survivor, then bring them here for questioning.”

  After he finished chewing he looked at the servant.

  “Order received.”

  Tuline did not wait to see if the order would be carried out. There was no need, to ignore the order would mean death. He did however dutifully log that the order was received into his pad. He walked to an outlet nearby and linked his pad to it. Logging that the order was received dozens of messages and new orde
rs uploaded into his pad, he was far behind schedule again. Conversation in the hall began to pick up again as he turned and left.

  * * *

  ( Orlock)

  “So sure of himself, isn’t he.”

  Junior Master Orlock looked at his longtime friend Senior Junior Skaleeri. “If you had the power of the office over your shoulder you would be too. Is my air mover ready?”

  “I would be surprised if it was, you only just returned.”

  “The moment the air mover is ready inform me, I’ll be in my office.” Orlock stood up, leaving his mostly finished plate of food on the table. One of the many servants standing against the wall left and picked the plate up along with the beverage. As the servant brought the dishware to collection, she hurriedly ate the scraps of food off the plate to make sure none went to waste. By her face he knew she was grateful for him to have left her so much scraps to eat from. Though judging by her voluptuous body she didn’t really need scraps. After she returned the plate for cleaning she stood at the end of the line to wait until her turn to eat again.

  After entering his office he began to re-dress for another gleaming. Off with his burdensom overcoat and on with his thin, and much preferred, flight jacket. Shortly after entering, his staff of three followed behind him, which included his servant, who was granted to him upon receiving the lowest of rank of Master chosen by Central Resource. His mechanic was given to him by his position and necessity of needing one for his air mover. His third was a servant professional of his choice. He had the ability to choose any profession to accommodate his staff, for no longer than two annuals, but he couldn’t choose the specific individual. That would be determined by Central Resource. After the two annuals are up he can choose another profession as the servant or advisor. Orlock knew most chose economists or spiritualist advisors. His first choice was a legal representative. His following choice was one from scientific affairs. To be chosen is generally an honor and most fear losing the extra income the position affords once attained.

  Apparently today his staff would include a fourth, as a monitor had arrived and sat down next to the other three. Monitors never speak and reported directly to central intelligence.

  He had to be even more careful about what he said than usual today. He was glad the arrival of the monitor made all of them equally uneasy. At least this is a shared burden, he thought to himself.

  “I’ve been ordered back to my previous gleaming and I will return with one passenger, who is likely going to be detained.” Looking at his servant. “Be sure proper facilities and personnel are on station when I arrive.”

  He would have told his staff much more especially in details but with the monitor present he didn’t dare.

  “When will my air mover finish being repowered?”

  His mechanic looked at the monitor and back at him. “Already underway, approximately ten moments.”

  “Very well.” Looking to his servant. “Please provision this trip better, I returned famished last time and I’ll need to accommodate the guest as well.”

  The monitor began inputting information into his pad. Making everyone in the room spike with concern. If that wasn’t bad enough the moment he finished, the monitor left the room. Never have either of those two things occurred before, not in his presence anyway. Most times the monitor stayed until the end of day.

  “What was that?” the female servant asked, her voice shaking with fear.

  “You need not fear you didn’t even speak.” Orlock responded.

  “I do not fear for myself.” She responded hotly, staring him in his eyes. Something no servant would ever do.

  The mechanic, used to such displays, continued without notice. “She’s right, I don’t remember this ever happening before. This doesn’t seem like a good thing.”

  “I suspect I am getting extra attention due to the sensitivity of my gleaming and my upcoming mission.”

  “Did you find out, I mean I assume you found survivors, how many?” the servant asked as she peaked at the pictures laying across his desk.

  “I do not have enough information to make a good guess. But I suspect only tens of thousands and they do not seem as advanced as we are.”

  Orlock watched as a sadness set on the faces of those in the room.

  “I better get going.” Orlock stood, feeling as they appeared. With nothing else to do except follow orders, he walked to his air mover.

  * * *

  (Alex)

  Boom

  Boom

  Boom

  Alex fired the last round in a sequence of seven and watched the counter climb once again. The target he had set down range was nearly demolished. Behind the target was the bog lands to the north. It was early in the morning and he suspected his activity was disturbing at least a few people. As long as it wasn’t Hu Va, he wasn’t concerned.

  Beeeeep

  A sound the weapon never made before caused Alex to stop in his tracks and look at his weapon carefully. Nothing seemed to change except the counter was steady at 4 and never moved. Alex quickly recalled that he fired seven rounds, it should have recharged.

  “It seems the weapon recharge capacity is not everlasting.” Symboli said.

  “So it seems.” Alex replied. He switched the weapon to its lowest setting. The number climbed to eighteen. Switching it back to medium brought to back to four and switching it to high indicated a single red horizontal line.

  “Symboli, have you been able to keep track how often I have used each weapon?”

  “No as I have not had direct visual access of the weapons at all times.”

  “Can you guess?” Alex asked looking at the other one still in his waistband.

  “I do know how often you have fired the weapons. I have some tracking as when you switch weapons in mid conflict, extrapolating. Alex, I calculate a eighty percent assurance that your other weapon will deplete no sooner than five reloads, with a maximum of nine.”

  The local star was well above the horizon now and people were walking his way.

  “They arrive to see what you were doing, you disturbed their morning no doubt.” Symboli offered.

  “I’ll have to disappoint them.” Alex picked up his things and began to walk back towards the city.

  “Symboli, if I had a fresh juntard how soon could I arrive at the primary crash site and return here?”

  “Thinking about retrieving more gear? Approximately a week, local cycle time of course.”

  “I don’t think we have that long.” Alex said as he walked around wide to avoid the on comers.

  “What makes you make such an improbable statement?”

  “Ha, what makes you not realize it?” Alex countered.

  “Given your lifespan and the lack of immediate threats I presume you have ample time to accomplish your objectives.”

  “No, my friend. That helicopter last night was a scout. They will be reporting on what they found. The next one or many will come swiftly and with a purpose.”

  “What purpose would you hypothesize that to be?” Symboli asked.

  “I see three probabilities. One they conduct another recon of the area. Two they set down somewhere to meet with leadership. Three they come in mass with hostile intentions.”

  “I calculate thousands of possibilities, and I don’t see how you decided on these three seemingly random choices.” Symboli said.

  Alex humored himself imagining the liquid in Symboli’s tank churning in frustration. Though, logically he knew the liquid never moved on its own accord.

  As he returned to the city gate he watched Alesti sleeping easy against the wall that provided the best view of the range. He almost continued inside to let her sleep but knew she would be angry If he left her there.

  Kneeling in front of her he reached out and touched her shoulder.

  Her eyes popped open and her body reflexed to the left just an inch. Looking down at where the death singer was laying. Alex smiled. “Time to go.”

  Alex made his way thr
ough the gate staring down the Permitters as they collected money from all others who entered.

  Before he knew it he was standing before Hu Va telling him he was going to travel across the Bog lands to the north.

  “Are you insane? Why do you wish to die so young?” Hu Va said as he reached for a pile of just delivered fruit.

  “I will go, will you offer any provisions?”

  “Is there anything I can do to dissuade you?”

  “Nothing, but I suggest you double up the guard and hurry up on your fortifications. I suspect those in the North will return, with good intentions or bad I do not know. Better safe than sorry.”

  “Better safe than sorry. Hmm… Yes, I suppose you’re right. Well, what do you want? A few soldiers, juntards, carriage for food, armor, weapons, things to trade?”

  “I was thinking a couple juntards with a wagon for provisions.”

  “No additional men?” Hu Va clarified.

  “No.”

  “Good I’d hate to send my men to die needlessly.” Hu Va half smiled.

  “Out of curiosity. What happens when you send your men north, in the past I mean?”

  “What do you mean? They simply don’t return.”

  “Right, but haven’t you tried to figure out why?”

  “Yes, by sending more men who also don’t return.” Hu Va said, his expression indicating he thought these questions were pointless.

  “If it were me, I would have sent ten men. With one man to stay behind every thousand meters. So that he may witness what happens to the one in front.”

  “Yes… good that’s good.” Hu Va walked around the room for a few moments. “When do you want the provisions?”

  “I leave immediately.” Alex replied. Alesti remained silent throughout but ever present.

  “I will send your provisions to the gate, it will be done at once.” Hu Va walked to Alex and looked closely upon his head. “I’ve always thought you odd without a bone crest. How you survived without it is a mystery.”