A Bellicose Dance

by Patrick M J Lozon

  The day passed quickly. He retired early.

  * * *

  The nightmare returned.

  He was running. Running through a dark ship of gray corridors, a maze, hall after hall. They all looked the same.

  Her screams echoed, twisted, out of phase. It was Aviore.

  "Stay away! Please, stay away."

  He ran until his lungs burned and his legs ached under the strain.

  "Please help. Someone, please help me," the voice sobbed with fear.

  Closer now. But legs, rubbery, folded under him. Hand over hand, he pulled himself up. Around the corner.

  She lay on the floor, covered in blood. He called to her. She turned to him, eyes lost in a sea of pain. "No!"

  A dark shape moved between them. A familiar figure - a Xilozak. A long metal rod glinted in the gloom. Teeth lashed out white.

  "Too late, Earthman!"

  A light exploded. It burned through Ryan's chest with the heat of molten metal. His body went numb and he fell. It lasted an eternity. His eyes searched her out. He tried so desperately to call for her, but couldn't.

  He felt himself die.

  He lurched awake, covered in sweat, his heart pounding. The images still burned fresh in his mind from an all too familiar nightmare. His hands shook uncontrollably. It seemed stronger now, and more frequent. He sat on the edge of his bed, the cold sweat sticking to his clothes.

  It was numbing, this dream. Like he was losing her over and over again. He searched for the strength to deny the feeling, but it wouldn't leave him. He had to find her.

  He tossed his few meager possessions into the middle of the bed, folded the corners of the blanket up, then swung the makeshift sack over his shoulder. It was Xeronian night, and the corridors were quiet. The ramp into the Dancing Queen lowered as he arrived. He tossed the sack to the side and headed to the cockpit. Light panels glowed softly showing the way. The large captain's chair proved to be invitingly comfortable. With a deft wave of his hand, the console lit up with the virtual controls.

  A quick scan gave the status on the systems: capacitors nearly at full charge.

  The ship was almost ready.

  Soft hues of the bay's night lights peeked in through the open viewport, shedding whitish hues over the cockpit. The shields had been retracted fully allowing an unrestricted view of the bay. Upon the floor lay scattered an odd collection of equipment and parts, littering the otherwise featureless chamber. No movement came from below, as the Xeronian engineers had long since left. They no longer needed to work in perpetual rotating shifts.

  Ryan reclined the chair, cushions softly hissed as they adjusted to his body. For the second time that night, he fell into a deep sleep.

  Gem retracted the ramp. She could sense Ryan’s troubles, but she knew there was only one cure for this. They must travel amongst the stars.

  * * *

  "Ryan, time to wake up."

  He stirred. Images of the previous night now blurry, but he could remember how it felt.

  "Open your eyes, Captain."

  "Yeah. Yeah. And good morning to you, Gem. Glad to see you are back and your normal, chipper self today."

  The bright, white lights of the bay shone through the quartz panels into the cockpit. Ryan adjusted the filter level to kill the brightness. It had been pre-set for Xeronian eyes. "I swear, I should be blind by now," he mumbled.

  "Captain, they are looking for you," reported Gem.

  "Well, tell them where I am."

  "I did not wish to have them disturb you until you awakened. You had a rough night."

  "That was very mothering of you, Gem," he returned, with slight humorous sarcasm. He stood up and stretched.

  His body felt good. Must be the built-in ultrasonic muscle simulators in the seats.

  Through the monitors, he saw a small party approaching. They were, more than likely, slightly irritated. By the time he made it to the airlock, they were waiting for him.

  "Morning, ah… team."

  Tsaurau headed up the group. "Ryan, we did not know where you had disappeared to and we could not retrieve any information from the Par - your vaskpar server was interfering."

  "Yes, I'm afraid that one has a will of her own."

  "Feeling a bit mischievous, I see," he commented silently to Gem.

  A reply shot back. "They underestimate me sometimes, you know."

  He addressed the group. "I believe first launch is scheduled in one hour. I have time for a shower and shave. So I'll see you all in a bit."

  "I have something to present to you," said Tsaurau. "In private if possible. It will not wait."

  "Well, come on up, then."

  Tsaurau ordered the ramp raised behind him.

  "You need to share some deep secret or something?”

  "Yes. Some may not agree with me on what I am about to do. I simply wish to avoid conflict. All the councilors and the Elders know of my intentions, and they have given me their blessing. I have a very special gift for you. It will help you in your search." He produced a small golden vial. It glowed slightly where his hand touched its base.

  "This is the gift of life, it is called Shamanah. It is said to bestow an eye into eternity, a view into the future. Use of it is restricted within Xeronian custom. Only one of the High Council may ingest it, but it is my gift to you. You must draw from its strength, use the power it infuses."

  Ryan took the vial. It was warm to the touch. Shades of gold danced through the clear cylinder.

  “What’s this, some kind of hallucinogen?”

  "No, not exactly. It takes hundreds of years to produce this amount. It is very precious."

  Ryan offered it back. "Look, I can't accept this. This is your custom. You use it."

  "No. You must. Time is precious, and this will help you find Aviore."

  "Find her? What do you mean?"

  "You will see."

  "If this is so precious, why would you give this up?"

  "Because you need it - more than any of us."

  Ryan scrutinized the vial with skepticism. "An eye into eternity? So I drink it? You're sure this won't poison me?"

  "Yes. At worst, it will give you a mild headache. It is compatible with your metabolism."

  "And what happens after? Makes me high or something?"

  "Not exactly. I will leave you to experience it. You can then choose how to describe the experience.”

  “When?”

  “Soon. I suggest before your first flight.”

  “Oh, that soon.”

  “And also, a small gift relayed from my father. It is something you would understand, other Xeronians may not.”

  Tsaurau pulled a long sword from a scabbard that was hung across his back. The alien strained at the effort.

  “Excuse me a moment. The weight of this object proves challenging.”

  Ryan reached out and took the sword by the hilt. It was a weapon gilded and inlaid with fine gems, although its golden luster lay hidden under a tarnished skin.

  “A sword, a fine blade at that.” He swung it sharply, and it hissed through the air. “Nicely balanced.”

  “It has meaning, especially to my father, here – you may review the link on the Par. Few truly understand this object’s representation.”

  Ryan peered into the Par, found the link, and scanned the summary of information. “So this is a Showmish blade. All the more impressive.”

  Tsaurau handed him the scabbard. “The red garnet, press on that and you will notice the weapon will activate the disruptor.”

  He pressed the jewel, and the sword began to vibrate slightly in his hand, giving off the slightest scent of ozone. “I’m sure this is deadly in close quarters.”

  “Ryan, we must depart to the chamber. The Council has already convened. We must hurry."

  Ryan eyed the Xeronian carefully. He actually seemed excited. “You are referring to this vile, right?”

  Tsaurau nodded.

  “Alright, I’m game I guess. Give me a few m
inutes to get ready.”

  It did not take him long to clean up and head out to the chamber. Both upper and lower councils were present when they arrived. A rectangular pedestal of granite had risen from the center floor of the chamber.

  "You must drink the contents, then quickly lay down upon this platform or you will fall."

  "Potent stuff." He glanced at the silent crowd. "Why the audience?"

  "We are here to help - to share in your visions, to guide as necessary."

  The vial seemed to pulse in his hand.

  Tseman spoke, her old voice echoed in the chamber, lower in pitch than what he remembered. "The time has come to open your eyes, to see through the mist of time, beyond all expanses of distance. Watch for the symbols Ryan, for they represent your life."

  "It is time," whispered Tsaurau.

  He hesitated only a second, closed his eyes, and drank it down. The taste was smooth and sweet, like warm honey. "When will it take effect?"

  "It already has, please lie down," Tsaurau said.

  His voice seemed to waver strangely. Hands guided him. Everything around him began to spin, slowly at first, then faster and faster.

  The sensation of falling.

  Everything faded to dark gray.

  Suddenly he was awake. The dizziness had left him. He felt very light, like he was floating. He looked around. The Xeronians surrounding him were in some kind of trance, seeming lost in their meditation. Realizing he was elevated he looked down, to see himself, or rather, his body, laying still on the granite pedestal.

  A movement. It was Tseman. She was motioning to him, waving slowly.

  Go. You must go.

  He felt a pulling sensation. With a sudden rush, he was ascending, accelerating towards the ceiling. He silently screamed as he passed through the granite. Upward he flew, through the hundreds of levels of the artificial city, through steel and stone, through the last of the hardened granite mountain, leaving behind its cold shadow. In an instant, he was free, the planet below him shrinking in the distance. He accelerated and felt heavy, incredibly heavy.

  But where was this taking me?

  He felt the fear climbing through his being like a desperate, dying flame, felt the panic take hold and build.

  Hold now. Relax. Hallucinogenic effects. Trust Tsaurau.

  He closed his eyes to the maelstrom of passing lights.

  No. He could not be out here, this is only a dream, an illusion brought on by that strange drug.

  The stars were flying by quietly. Visions of entire solar systems lasted for brief seconds as he passed. Some had planets. Intermittently he would pass one that twinkled on its dark side revealing life. Yet they all faded away like dying embers.

  The weight began to lift. He slowed to a pause. The stars around him seemed familiar. A planet loomed ahead. Ice reflected brightly from a polar cap, piercing his eyes, forcing him to look away. A shadow seemed to follow him, just beyond his line of vision. He focused his tormented eyes on a shapeless darkness that grew closer at a terrifying speed. It radiated a coldness that bit through him and left an aftertaste of rusted metal. Then it too was gone, as suddenly as it appeared, lost in the expansive background of the long-dead planet.

  Why had he stopped here?

  A familiar tug pulled him away, and he felt the sensation of heaviness build. The strange planet disappeared into a small, insignificant dot. Once again blurred lines of stars passed. He traveled an unknown path, suffocated by a relentlessly heavy burden. Ahead, another dot appeared, morphed into two - a binary star system. The primary sun was massive. A smaller blue dwarf sun orbited around it at a reckless speed. He looked away from the fiery furnaces and out into the stars. Something was urging him to look beyond. He saw a small red dot far away.

  "There," he heard the whispers say.

  He passed the remains of what must have once been a planet. The broken derelict wobbled radically on its axis, torn apart ages ago by the intense gravitational forces of the two suns, a lifeless corpse in the dead of space.

  Again, he felt the weight lift. The red dot transformed into an immense planet. It was majestic, a testament of nature’s will. But as it rotated below, details became clear. There was something drastically wrong. Skies swirled in yellowish grays and blood reds, suspending ebbing rivers of poison filth. Through darkened skies, the lights of sprawling cities blared through. They spread over the surface like black cancerous growths. Above each, the skies were littered with swarms of ships, launching and landing, as bees do around a beehive.

  Ryan's realization turned to sullen gray. This was Xilo, the capital planet of the Xi-Empire. The wobbling planet that he had passed by was Txtia - a planet ripped apart long ago.

  Time reversed, and new images played out. The planet below transformed into an oasis bountiful with life, blanketed in rich blues and greens. Far out in space another planet, whole, teetering on the edge of destruction, it too teeming with life. He watched as its inhabitants leapt the chasm of space within a deluge of black needles.

  Then Txtia tore apart, ripping through its center, oceans pouring into blackness, and life screaming its last cold breath.

  Wars began on Xilo, scarring its lush surface with blackness. The Txtians struggled to survive; the Xilozaks defended their home. Advanced Txtian technology met with a vicious Xilozak zest for battle.

  He fell down to the planet, only to arrive in front of a thick, wood and metal clad door. Beyond it lay a rustic expanse of a room and at its center, a roaring fire. A Xilozak nurse held a baby in her arms.

  The baby seemed different. Red eyes looked up at him.

  It could see him. He swore it was watching him.

  Another scene. A leader, a crownless king with red eyes, ordering the last of the Xilozak rebels to painful deaths. After, the wars faded to an unsettled peace. Xilozak and Txtian lived and worked together under the first of the Zigot bloodline. The Emperor had silenced the guns and brought forward a brief age of inter-racial peace.

  The Txtians were the technically advanced, the Xilozaks, physically powerful. Their symbiotic union marked the beginning of the Xi-Empire. Time shifted in a blur, and their technology spread across the planet, spewing forth poison and death. Ships launched in unending plumes of flame. They carried with them their insatiable need to conquer and destroy. They pillaged, they killed, and they enslaved. The mighty Xi-Empire was born.

  He looked down with disgust at the roiling filth below. It was an ecological disaster. An unrelenting succession of factories churning out a never-ending fog of pollution, discharging so much poison that even a planet as large and invincible as Xilo could not absorb it. Land once lush-green with life, now lay as fields of red mud. It is a planet raped of all of its distinction.

  Why? The factories ran for one reason: to build the weapons of war, and ultimately, to advance the reaches of the Empire. The war machine would not stop for any reason. It was a leviathan of destruction.

  The Empire's might lay before him a pitiful failure. They had lost all appreciation for beauty. They were materialistic, obsessed with the concept of ownership, practitioners of slavery and oppression.

  A ship was approaching him from behind. He felt it before seeing it. Its burners glowed with heat as it decelerated. He had an uncontrollable need to look within. He plunged through its hull and saw as much as felt his suspicions. The dense air, the pungent odors, the filth. This was a slavership. Creatures of different shapes and sizes lay about the large cargo bay. They were the down-trodden, the oppressed, slaves. Amongst them was a group of humans. To his right another room, small and dark. He heard crying from within. A woman, alone, in pain.

  .

  He moved closer, trying to peer through the darkness. Her face was covered in a mass of knotted, matted hair. She was huddled into a tight ball on the bare floor, wrapped in a collection of torn rags. Her cries were soft and tearless. Festering sores and bruises pockmarked her skin, unable to heal due to neglect and malnutrition.

  She spoke,
her voice faint and unsteady, tapering off to a whisper, "Ryan, wherever you are, I can't hold out much longer. I’m sorry."

  "Aviore!"

  She looked up, her face frail and hollow, her eyes red and shallow. He could see her desperate pain. He tried to move closer, to touch her, but could not. Something stopped him, held him frozen. A bright light engulfed everything around him. And then there was darkness.

  He felt an uncontrollable urge to breathe. He was back, and he didn't want to be. He wanted to be there, with Aviore, to be with her.

  He opened his eyes and looked around.

  “No! No! I need to go back.”

  Tsaurau's concerned face filled his field of view. His large black eyes revealed something different, an emotion, possibly sadness. Ryan pushed him back and sat up, savagely shaking off a momentary wave of dizziness. Between his fingers, he held the empty vial. He grasped it so tight that it shattered in his hand. He did not feel the pain but saw the blood well up between his fingers.

  He was not really here, he was there, with her, filling his mind, frame by frame.

  Tsaurau's voice brought him back. "Ryan. You have indeed returned. We are here with you, now. You are back on Xeronia."

  His hand trembled with sharp pain. He opened it and pulled the fragments from his palm.

  "Aviore?"

  "We experienced what you experienced. I understand your pain. We all understand."

  "Was this real, or just an illusion?"

  "The world you know is one of many. Your experience was real."

  "The timing? Now, in the future, what?"

  "There was no substantial distortion of relative time."

  "Did she see me?"

  "No. Felt your presence possibly, somehow. Such things are possible."

  "I have to find her."

  Tseman interrupted him. "Earthman. Time is an indeterminable dimension. Fleeting in one moment, eternal in another. The reality of the world you know is gauged by this measure. You have but little of it in comparison to the rest of the universe. Use it wisely. I have seen the visions. They carry details of substance. Do not forget them, for they hold the clues to your destiny. You have been given the gift of sight, use it well, and it may reveal more."