“I will ask you only once,” Svoryk growled, placing one foot on Julian’s chest as his finger hovered over the scrambler’s power button in an attempted threat. “Take me to the Kyroibi.”
“Please,” Julian begged as he set in motion his backup plan. The plan he’d hoped to avoid as it was more complicated and had a higher likelihood of failing. “I was not successful in unraveling El’iadryov’s puzzle, but there is yet hope. Take me to Isaverlline.”
“Isaverlline?”
“She used the residual power left behind during El’iadrylline’s incubation to enslave me. If she held enough of the Kyroibi to override your command, then she may also have the coordinates.”
For a moment, hope flared in Svoryk’s beady eyes, but just as quickly they narrowed.
“What is to stop her from using that power to enslave you once again?”
“As far as she knows, nothing,” Julian said with a cruel smile. “Allow Isaverlline to believe she’s again overwritten your command and I might use the same charade to decipher Ia’na Eidyn’s coordinates. In turn you would have command of the limitless battalion.”
“Come then,” Svoryk commanded.
Julian did as asked, unable to stop himself from raising an eyebrow when Svoryk slapped a magnetic ring around his wrist.
“You are aware that I am capable of pulse travel without the aid of mechanics, are you not, master?”
Svoryk’s smile turned quickly into a scowl at the undisguised barb.
“Silence!” he barked and activated his own wristlet, which caused it to lock firmly onto the one on Julian’s wrist. “A safety precaution,” he explained. “You’ll not use this trip as an attempt to escape me.”
“I have no intentions, master. Please, take me to your ship and let me prove again my loyalty.”
Satisfied, Svoryk stalked out of the small apartment and down the stairs. Outside, when there was finally enough room for a running start, they pulsed away at a rate that Julian thought felt more like a leisurely walk. Svoryk’s ship was hidden, rather poorly, in an equatorial location. The diffusion of the sun’s radiation at that particular time of the year did nothing to mask the pulse signatures, but he supposed that masking entry mattered little to the Emperor.
The ship itself was crude. An Eidyn creation, but made inefficient by Huptsovian retrofitting. The journey would be too slow for Julian to carry out his plan quickly and efficiently. If they made it all the way to the Ghowrn system, he might find an unspoiled Eidyn vessel to serve his purpose, but first, he had to at least try and gain control of this one.
Chapter 13
Something had gone wrong. It was obvious Julian had been hiding something from her. Exactly what had gone wrong and what he was hiding, she didn’t know, but it no longer mattered. She was powerless against the compulsion to run. One moment she was trying to fight off Svoryk’s soldiers and the next, her brain was screaming while her body fragmented in an explosion of pure energy.
Ellie found she wasn’t at all surprised to be back in the Arctic, standing at the mouth of a seemingly empty cavern of ice. The trip had been nearly instantaneous, with no controlled pulsing through substations and energy fields. She felt she should be worried about leaving the world’s easiest to follow pulse trail, but on an instinctual level, she knew this no longer mattered. She held out her hand and felt a presence where she saw emptiness. Immediately, her diodes alit with a soft glow as the ship materialized beneath her touch.
“Oh… wow…”
She let out a small gasp upon seeing the ship fully for the first time. Judging only from the interior, Ellie had been expecting something like a space shuttle or maybe even a miniature flying saucer, but the craft before her was neither. For one thing, it was huge. At least three stories tall and nearly as wide at its base. The shape was closer to that of a chicken’s egg than any rocket she’d ever seen and the exterior was a baffling silver liquid that shimmered yet did not reflect its surroundings. Nor was it cold or rigid under her touch. The texture instead molded to her hand, lining up for a perfect diodal transfer of information.
Another dam broke and she felt a dizzying rush as a steady stream of coordinates and instructions poured through her and into the ship. She understood this was what Julian meant when he said that the brain was not meant to process large swaths of information at once. Ellie let the ship take what it needed and focused her mind elsewhere, but found distraction difficult.
She still had no enlightenment as to what made this knowledge so special that otherwise reasonable people like her mother would act irrationally to reclaim its power. Ellie felt no such compulsion. If anything, she wanted it gone. She wanted to turn back time and go back to being the slightly unusual yet otherwise boring college student, failing grades and all.
And yet, she knew that given the opportunity to do just that, she wouldn’t. She’d never been one to bury her head in the sand when there were people in need. Although, she really could have done with a little more warning that her life was being turned on end.
Gradually, the flow of information ebbed and Ellie felt a gentle nudge as the ship pushed her hand away. An opening materialized just slightly above her head and to the right, spilling a pool of silver liquid that morphed into the solid shape of an inclined walkway. She took one last look around, hoping against hope that Julian would make an appearance, but Ellie could no longer fight the compulsion to board the ship. Wherever she was headed, she was headed there alone.
Ellie let the Kyroibi guide her to where the command console had been and watched in awe as it materialized out of the nothingness. She sank into the command chair and concentrated on the console, grateful for the distraction from the still unnerving invisible floor. Her hands reached automatically for the tiny lights that blinked to life before her. She recognized the coordinates for a star system even though she wasn’t familiar with the layout of the galaxy, feeling cheated that the information to pilot the ship was within her, yet she herself understood so little.
As if the vessel understood her frustration, the walls returned to a comforting opaqueness and a star map appeared on the wall in front of her. While there was no blinking “you are here” sign, Ellie managed to locate the solar system. She followed that inward toward the center of the galaxy and found the Ghowrn binary, awed by the sheer size of the system, and more than a little surprised to see that the path she herself had communicated to the ship did not lead there.
Instead, the soft green glow of her propulsion path took Ellie clear across the galaxy, deftly avoiding the inhospitable center, to a tiny, almost imperceptible cold star at the very end of one of the spiral’s feathered edges.
“Oh…” she gasped as she realized her final destination.
Ia’na Eidyn.
“Well, fancy that,” she smirked, noting the remote location. The Eidyn were supposedly one of, if not the oldest civilization in the galaxy, and yet they didn’t originate from the civilized center. But Ellie didn’t have much time to dwell on whether or not this vindicated Earth, because the lights on the console alerted her it was time to prepare for takeoff.
She felt absolutely nothing as the ship pulsed away, out beyond the planet’s gravitational pull. In fact, had she not been in direct communication with the spatial displacement core, Ellie would not have even realized they’d left the ground. The vessel automatically and precisely calculated their every move, including the trajectory needed to avoid displacing large amounts of space between the gas giant planets of the outer solar system.
Briefly, she wished she could see them as she passed by. After all, it didn’t matter that she was an alien. She had grown up an Earthling. As such, getting an up close and personal view of Jupiter and Saturn, as well as a rude snicker at Uranus, was literally something no one on Earth had done before. But as the walls began to fade from view, Ellie quickly curbed her curiosity and sent a sharp, automatic command to bring them back before she completely lost her mind in panic. The ship, at least, understood h
er distress and not only reinstated opacity, but also sent a calming influence through her chair’s diode matrix.
“Thanks,” she said, giving the armrest a gentle squeeze and feeling only a little silly about talking to an inanimate object. Her panic ebbed, turning again to curiosity as a large screen appeared in front of the console, reminding her of the view screen used in most science fiction shows.
With the appearance of the new screen came a new flow of information and Ellie realized that the ship was giving her exactly what she wished for. She watched in awe as the screen came to life, replaying for her the moments when they’d approached and passed by the gas giants, slowed down enough that she could see the details of the planets and not suffer any displacement sickness.
“So you can understand me then?”
No voice called out in return, but an affirmative impression was sent through the console. Though not the artificial intelligence she had seen and read about in science fiction, the ship was indeed intelligent, able to communicate knowledge, concepts, and ideas via diodal communication. With this newfound knowledge, Ellie occupied herself for several hours learning everything she could from the vessel.
As fascinating as astronavigation was, Ellie eventually found her head growing heavy with information and decided she needed a break. She glanced up at the star map and let out a small sigh. Despite moving at speeds that would make the most liberal of science fiction enthusiasts raise an eyebrow, she hadn’t so much as made a dent in the green line on the map. In her mental exhaustion, this realization brought on a new and most unwelcome emotion.
Loneliness.
Unconsciously, Ellie reached into her pocket and pulled out the device that had tethered her to those she loved for as long as she could remember: her cell phone. Not surprisingly, it had no service. After all, she hadn’t expected to find a random cell tower in outer space, but there was a small part of her that wished she had some way of communicating back to Earth. Or to anywhere for that matter. Knowing she was light years away from any other living, breathing person reignited her panic. Luckily, the ship sensed her distress and again sent its calming influence.
To pass the time, and distract from the deep and existential thoughts that threatened to surface, Ellie turned to the collection of casual games on her phone. High score jewel patterns and candy-based puzzles would at least lend her a couple hours distraction before her battery finally gave out.
Or perhaps indefinitely.
Back on Earth, the battery had been nearly depleted, but now she noticed it was fully charged. She wondered if this was what Julian had meant when he said the ship handled all of their regenerative needs.
The idea that her father’s people had more in common with a cell phone than the humans of Earth made her giggle, but then, it wasn’t entirely farfetched. After all, her last meal had been days ago at least, yet she felt no pangs of hunger. Of course, as soon as she thought about food, her mind overrode her stomach and suddenly she could think of nothing else.
“Well ship? I know Julian mentioned some emergency rations. I don’t suppose there’s an emergency New York Supreme in there, huh?”
Ellie began to laugh as she imagined a pizza materializing out of the console, but her chuckles turned to a deflated sigh when a hatch opened, revealing a square block of nondescript food-like material instead.
“Well, when in Rome… or Romulan space…”
With a shrug, she bit into the alien energy bar, expecting the taste and texture of sawdust. Instead, the unmistakable flavor of cheese, garlic, tomato sauce, and a host of toppings hit her taste buds.
“Okay, have I gone space crazy already?” She hesitated only for the briefest moment before taking another bite. It didn’t just taste like the pizza from her favorite place in the city, but she could feel the warmth of the sauce and chewy texture of the cheese. She stared at the off-white block in awe. She’d only taken a few bites, but her stomach felt weighed down, as if she’d polished off half a pie. She placed the remainder of the bar in the compartment and leaned back, succumbing to the pseudo-pizza coma and allowed the chair to adjust and became something of a cocoon-like bed for her to curl up in.
Many dreamless hours later, Ellie awoke and turned her gaze to the star map, surprised at how far they had gone while she slept. The ship was now in a very remote area. In fact, if she was reading the map correctly, they had traveled outside the galaxy itself. Her destination was now much closer than her starting point.
Her stomach fluttered, both with nervous anticipation and dark thoughts about how very alone she was. Sensing her distress, the ship sent another wave of calm, but Ellie pulled away, and blocked the diodal transfer, unaware that she’d even had the ability to do so.
She stood abruptly and began to pace. Being nervous was natural. She wanted to be fully alert and not under the spell of the ship’s influence when she finally reached her destination. After all, she didn’t know what, if anything, she would find. For that matter, she wasn’t even sure she would be capable of surviving outside the ship.
As they entered the small star system, the ship had similar concerns and communicated as much through the blinking lights on the console. Ellie consented to sit once again and allowed the ship to run a diagnostic evaluation of her molecular makeup while simultaneously scanning the surface of the single planet that orbited the dark star, seeking the landing coordinates issued by the Kyroibi.
When the walls finally faded from view, Ellie gasped. The ship sat in the center square of what appeared to be the perfectly preserved remains of an ancient city. Though the cold star was directly above, indicating what would be high noon on Earth, the entire scene was awash in hues of blue, as if dusk had descended early. The outside temperature was negative twenty-five degrees, roughly the average temperature of a Siberian winter, with no wind or precipitation.
The cold temperature was of little consequence. She would certainly not freeze, given that the ice cavern had been considerably colder, however the atmosphere caused her some concern. The air was breathable, but much thinner than anywhere on Earth. Her Eidyn genetics would allow her to process what she needed without fatigue, but the thought of walking out into a world where oxygen made up less than two percent of the air made her nervous.
A small device popped out of the console. Ellie picked it up and found it clipped easily under her nose and would filter out many of the gases not present in Earth’s atmosphere, bringing the oxygen level up closer to the twenty percent she was used to. Unnecessary or not, Ellie was grateful.
The first thing she noticed upon exiting the craft was the stillness. Nothing, not even the time she and Julian had spent in Pripyat had prepared her for such absolute desolation. She wondered how long it would take for the eerie silence to drive her completely mad, but quickly curbed that line of thinking, concentrating instead on the Kyroibi, which had once again sent instructions to the forefront of her mind.
She found herself being led toward a tall, pyramid-like structure towering in the distance. In many ways, it reminded her of the ancient pyramids of South America. Instead of the smooth inclined walls of the Egyptian pyramids, the structure looked to be made of square buildings of diminishing size stacked one on top of the other. Though she could not see the top from where she stood, she could see a large set of doors about halfway up that she knew was her destination.
As she crossed the square, she noticed that though the ground below her appeared to be nearly as smooth as glass, her rubber soled Chuck Taylors made no sound as she walked. In fact, instead of slapping against the ground, it almost felt as if the surface beneath her feet was soft, absorbing the impact of each step. While interesting, that was nothing compared to the second realization; that the strange glyphs that appeared above doors were words.
Words that she understood.
The buildings looked like nothing on Earth, but Ellie recognized them as storefronts for everything from groceries to clothing, a toy store, and even the Eidyn equivalent of an e
lectronics megastore. The experience was surreal to say the least. Part of her really wanted to go inside and satisfy her curiosity about the technology that was thousands of years old, yet beyond anything Earthlings could even dream up, but the draw of the temple was overpowering.
Temple? Is that what this is?
This was a confusing revelation. The concept of a temple, a place of worship, seemed at odds with all she knew of the advanced civilization. But as she reached the base of the massive building, and read the dedication carved into the smooth, diamond-like wall, Ellie understood. A temple, yes, but not a place to worship a god or gods. This was an academy of higher learning. The structure stood in reverence to the art of advancement and the ongoing and ceaseless quest for knowledge. But one Eidyn word in particular caught Ellie’s eye.
Kyroibi.
Knowledge, or better stated, reverence of knowledge. She’d known, of course, that the Kyroibi was forbidden knowledge, but she had no idea of the enormity of what she carried. Inside of her was the sum of her ancestors’ entire collective wisdom. Somehow, this concept was both awe inspiring and terrifying at once.
She took the steps as fast as her legs would carry, noting with a grimace that each was about twice the depth of normal stairs on Earth. Granted, both Julian and Dryova stood close to, if not over seven feet. If they represented the average height for an Eidyn, the bigger stairs made sense. For the first time in her entire life, Ellie felt short.
The Kyroibi’s pull seemed almost secondary to her own curiosity the higher she climbed, spurring her to ignore the ache of muscle fatigue until at last, she stood at the temple’s entrance. If the stairs made her feel short, they had nothing on the massive doors. From the ground, she had not been able to gauge their size, but each door, made of the same smooth substance as the rest of the building, was enormous, standing over twice her height, and making Ellie feel a little like Alice after falling down the rabbit hole.
A Space Girl from Earth (The Kyroibi Trilogy Book 1) Page 13