Awaken: A Dystopian Science Fiction Adventure

by Troy McLaughlan

  John put a hand on the now solid rock entrance. “Damn door wouldn’t even let me bring in my blaster. Good thing I brought this.” He reached inside his backpack and pulled out a sawed off shotgun. He turned his head and gave me a sly smile. “Good for close encounters.”

  We lost our balance as another explosion thudded. Dust fell around the chamber.

  “I don’t suppose there’s a light switch?” John asked.

  I raised my hand to my forehead. My skull star continued to glow and lit a path several yards in front me, yet there was no pain. A line of fiery red light appeared and raced forward before disappearing.

  “Where did that come from?” John asked.

  I turned to him. “My finger is still cut. A drop of blood must have hit the floor.”

  John took my staff and dagger and tossed his shotgun to Ben. “We’ll cover you. Find the Sanctum.”

  I dripped my blood on the floor, and the fiery line pulsed forward. We followed the line as it snaked and turned through several intersections, leading us deeper into the volcano.

  When we rounded a corner, I gasped and jumped back. Two life-sized black Targs stood before me, their eyes glowing bright with the same ruby color. The corridor in front of them was lined with alternating squares of polished black stones of different sizes.

  “These Targs are statues,” John said. “Looks like they’re made of some kind of obsidian-like rock.”

  He took a step, but I yanked him back and motioned to two human skeletons that lay a few yards in front of us, as if their bodies were cut in half. A black line, like it was burned into the red hallway, waist high, ran the length of the corridor on both sides.

  “Thanks,” John said.

  The eyes on the Targs continued to glow.

  Why would she have a statue of her hated enemy here?

  On the breastplates of each Targ were a line of ancient Egyptian characters. “There’s an inscription.”

  “I will never again kneel before the outworlders, but you my child, must show humility if you are to prove worthy of me.”

  Ben stared at me, while John wrinkled his forehead. “I remember my grandfather mentioning a series of booby traps.” He took out his great grandfather’s notebook from his backpack and flipped through the pages.

  “Oh that’s just brilliant,” Ben said. “It’s not like every Targ on the planet isn’t trying to kill us.”

  A massive explosion from the outside rocked us to our knees followed by distant Targ voices.

  John knelt behind a statue with my dagger on one hand and my staff in his other. “I think we’re about to have company.”

  Knees? A humble slave gets on her knees.

  “I think we need to kneel down and crawl to the end of the corridor.”

  I got to my knees and inched forward on the smooth stones, staring at the black line. Just after I passed the skeletons, a red film lanced over my head from one wall to the other. It radiated a scorching heat forcing me to look away and crouch lower.

  When I reached the edge of alternating squares, a chest high tunnel stood before me. On one side of the tunnel, etched into the wall, was a full sized image of a bearded man kneeling with his hands outstretched. A Targ with a whip stood over him. An Egyptian inscription above read One or maybe Beloved. On the other side, the bearded man was standing and above him floated mother Gaia. Lines radiated from her in all directions with some touching the bearded man.

  “Something wrong?” John said.

  I placed a finger on the inscription and traced over it. “I’ve never seen this man in any scroll before.” His face had a frown, large sad eyes, and lines etched into his brow. Inset into his forehead was a glowing skull star.

  Who are you?

  Howls bellowed from behind, and Ben stepped forward. “We better get goin’. Those Targs are gettin’ closer.”

  I nodded and crawled through the tunnel. It opened into a room with a staircase carved into the stone that descended deeper into the volcano.

  Ben followed behind me. He stood and looked back at the narrow passage. “I know a way we can slow those buggers down.”

  He pulled out three round gray dinner-plate sized disks from his backpack, each one an inch or so thick. A flap of plastic clung on both sides and a wide row of small spikes ran around the edge. John’s eyes lit up, and he grabbed his arm.

  “You’ve been carrying those things in your backpack the entire time?”

  Ben gave him a sheepish look. “Thought they might come in handy, mate. I’m a bit surprised I got them through the door.”

  “What are they?”

  “Anti-tank mines,” John said. “One of the few human weapons that will penetrate Targ armor.”

  “Here.” Ben handed two of them to John and peeled off a plastic flap revealing a thick layer of green goo. John held the remaining two at arm’s length like he was holding a squirming snake. “Pass these to me when I get inside.” He crawled in, and John handed him one after the other. “That ought to do it. I glued them to the ceiling and set the last ones detonator to proximity charge. As soon as one of those buggers crawls under one.” He clicked his tongue. “Boom.”

  We stepped cautiously down the stairs which led to another room filled with boiling red lava. The air above it wavered like a mirage. Every few seconds, a pillar of lava would erupt and arch back down, yet no heat emanated from it. I took a pebble and tossed it in. It disintegrated on contact.

  “Look for an inscription,” I said.

  We split up and searched.

  “Over here,” John said.

  On the right side wall was the curly ‘S’ like Egyptian symbol for Gaia suspended flat just above a room of fire. I turned to the lava room. Some of the magma shimmered and was a slightly different shade of red. I followed the pattern, and it led to the other side.

  The symbol of Gaia.

  I put a foot on the darker shade of red.

  John grabbed my waist and yanked me back. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “There’s a path in the lava.” His expression didn’t change. “Trust me.”

  He nodded, and I stepped on the different shade, then I took another.

  “Only step on the darker shade.”

  The path was thin, only slightly thicker than my foot, and sometimes it wavered and disappeared. I stretched out my arms to help keep my balance, stepping forward only when the path turned darker. Lava continued to erupt, but always missed me, arching either in front or behind. When I got to the end, I jumped onto the stone floor. I turned to see John and Ben inching their way forward with their arms out. Ben kept swaying, trying to keep his balance.

  “Bloody gymnastics.”

  John leapt off first and reached out to him. Ben jumped off the end just as another explosion shook us. Several bits of rock tumbled down the stairs.

  John’s head snapped toward it. “That was too close.”

  On the opposite sides of the exit stood two more murals carved into the rock. On one, the bearded man and mother Gaia had their arms wrapped around each other. Parts of their bodies almost seemed to be absorbed within one another. Both had sad eyes with tears falling from each cheek.

  Crowds of smaller finger high people lay below them. X’s were marked over their eyes, with some showing bones, and others missing arms and legs. A few tiny people stood inside a distant cave watching the carnage below them.

  The inscription above read Merging or Bonding.

  The other side showed the bearded man with rays of light shining from him. He was walking on an astral path of stars, leading a group of people behind him. Mother Gaia was nowhere in sight.

  The inscription below read Exodus to the Stars.

  John approached one of them. “It’s that man again isn’t it?”

  I nodded. “It’s like Gaia is trying to tell us something, but I don’t understand what it means.”

  A booming sound like a base drum echoed. Ben ducked behind a corner and grabbed his shotgun. “Lesson’s over.
You two go on ahead. I think I can keep them busy for a while.”

  John put a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “Someone has to keep your backs clear.” He reached inside his backpack and took out his last anti-tank mine. “Here.” He handed it to John. “May come in handy.”

  John’s face turned somber, and he extended his hand. When Ben shook it, he pulled him into a bear hug. “You keep your head down, Sargent.”

  “Ah, now don’t you be getting mushy on me.” Ben pulled away.

  “Good luck,” John said.

  Memories of my mother, father, and Cradlo flashed through my mind.

  How many have to die to help me?

  I walked forward and kissed Ben on the cheek with tears in my eyes. He smiled and tapped my skull star. “You take care of him, Missy. He’s a good mate.” He then turned and racked the shotgun. “Now get out here, both of you.”

  John took my hand. “Come on.”

  We ran down a winding path of polished glass like stones to a huge open room. Chair-sized amber domes flicked on illuminating the chamber with an eerie honey glow. At the far side was with a perfectly flat piece of cracked crystal that stretched out in both directions forming a wall. The multiple cracks and interior facets made it impossible to tell where an entrance might be.

  John pressed his hands to it, but it didn’t budge. “Maybe we took a wrong turn.”

  “No, I recognize this from Cradlo’s map.” I bit my lower lip, picturing the 3D image of the interior of the volcano, the animation of the girl putting her skull star in a cracked crystal wall. “Try to find a hole where my skull star will fit.”

  The sounds of shotgun blasts reverberated behind us, followed by the screeching of Targs. We separated, furiously patting the crystal wall with our hands. A distant explosion boomed. A moment later, my pinky finger slipped inside a hole.

  “I’ve found it!”

  I took out my skull star, turned it until the shape was right, and inserted. The wall disappeared leaving me holding my skull star.

  John looked around and gingerly stepped forward. “Amazing, it must have been some kind of semi-solid holography.”

  Just inside was a wall of solid shiny black rock with an oval human sized tunnel. A warm glow of white light pulsed from it like a heartbeat.

  Two more murals stood on either side. One had a picture of our solar system with the bearded man silhouetted behind it. His body was wiry, hair gray and thinning, with a long white beard that nearly touched the floor. Rays of light still shown from him, though not as bright and the man’s face was long, eyebrows pinched, and eyes hollow with grief.

  The message above read Arrival.

  Why is he sad?

  On the other was the body of the bearded man lying in a tomb beneath the earth. On top of his sarcophagus was his skull star. I recognized the shape and pattern of the facets. It was mine.

  Hundreds of other smaller human figures exited a cave above him and roamed on the surface. A volcano stood prominently in the background and within it, Mother Gaia knelt with tears streaming down her cheeks.

  The message above read Final Sacrifice.

  John reached out and touched it. “I know this symbol. It’s the Egyptian character for death.” He turned slowly to me. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this?”

  I took a deep breath. “Where else can we go?”

  He nodded.

  I swallowed hard, took his hand, and walked into the tunnel.

  CHAPTER 14

  The tunnel opened up into a chamber larger than my father’s house. Its walls composed of soft glowing crystals of all sizes that pulsed in steady rhythmic beat. It was like walking into an enormous geode. At the far side of the polished stone path was a defined black spot about chest high. Outside of it, a circle of small clear crystals spiraled. The hole was in the same shape as my skull star.

  John nodded to me, and I inserted it. The crystals around my skull star glowed brighter and the whole chamber burst forth into a pure white light.

  My eyes burned. I took a step back and lifted my hands to block out the blinding energy. It swirled and condensed into a pillar just above our heads. My heart beat faster and an icy chill ran down my spine. I was afraid we would burn up in the chamber, yet I felt no heat. John wrapped his arms around me and I snuggled into his chest. I suppressed the urge to run. Whatever happened, I was ready to face it with him.

  The chamber rumbled and the floor shook. John gripped me tighter. The pillar of light continued to gather tendrils of energy from the larger crystals until it exploded through the top and erupted out the volcano.

  I peered over John’s shoulder. The pillar of light had dimmed a little and was no longer so bright that I couldn’t look at it. Out of the darkness, the rays of the sun shone forth with a brilliant blue sky, and wisps of fluffy clouds.

  John released me and a voice inside my head spoke.

  “I have awakened.”

  Her voice was soft and melodic, almost comforting, much like my mother’s voice. My breathing calmed.

  What are you?

  A vision swept me away, and I caught a glimpse of her past, eons ago when she was first born. Her infant-like innocence and delight in the forging of new life. Her insatiable desire for knowledge and eventual creation of human beings, whom she called her children. How her understanding and perception grew with each new blade of grass and the birth of a newborn babe. Her love for us springing forth, along with her yearning to protect us.

  Her thoughts turned dark. Her newfound abilities channeled by the Targs to create massive bio-mechanical war machines. The tears she shed over the destruction of alien worlds she helped to obliterate.

  The cruelty of the Targs to her children if she disobeyed. How she felt each lash of the whip to their backs and the horrifying moment of each of her children’s deaths. The endless years of servitude to masters, whose desires for blood and destruction had no end.

  I began to understand how she was bonded to the children she had made.

  Her moment of decision, to kill all life upon her, save be a chosen few and escape. The loss and heartache of her children’s sacrifice so she could be free. Her wandering through the stars and her delight when she found a sun with which to bring her children forth again. Her exhaustion at spending centuries to rebuild and renew. Finally, her rest from her labors.

  Then I closed my eyes, and my entire life, from the moment I was born, ‘till I inserted my skull star played out in my mind. The frightening nights spent alone in the cellar, the many times my mother held and consoled me, my training with my father.

  Tears flowed down my cheeks as my love for my mother and father was laid bare before her. Next, was my new found feelings for John. His bravery and nobility during my betrayal and rescue. His sacrifice at the bunker and the absolute trust I held in him.

  “You’ve come a long way my child, being so young, and yet bearing so many scars.”

  We looked about her mountain home, seeing Targs, like ants, scrambling over and inside her. How she felt repulsed and violated by their presence. Her anger rose as the might of a dark hurricane. She gathered black storm clouds around the volcano. Tempests of terrifying fury and hurled her will at the Targs below. Striking them with lightning, volcanic rocks, and tornadoes.

  Human soldiers cheered, and human slaves cowered.

  “Very impressive,” a voice slithered.

  A gun blast echoed, and my eyes burst open. John was lying in a growing pool of blood, his hands clamped to his side.

  “John!”

  I ran to him and a familiar alien face emerged from the shadows of the tunnel holding a gun. His massive clawed hands clapped in fake tribute.

  Draks.

  Several Targ warriors rushed in behind him, all with their guns drawn. Some were caked in red volcanic dust, while others had their armor peppered with holes or sections of plates shredded. Draks armor, however, was pristine.

  I knelt, tore off part of my shi
rt, and stuffed it into the wound. My eyes watered and crimson blood seeped out around the edges of my hands. His wound looked just like my father’s before he died.

  Please John, not you too.

  His eyes were frail, but he still smiled. “Hey, no tears.” He touched my face with a shaky finger. “I’m not dead yet.”

  I pressed on the bandage, and he grunted. “Don’t say that.”

  Draks turned to one of the Targs. “This dainty is not for your ears. Secure my way out and wait for me at the bottom of the stairs.” His guards marched out of the chamber and he motioned to me. “Behold, your savior, or is she really mine?”

  The light pulsed. “You loathsome beast.” Her voice changed to one of thunder. “You dare defile me with your presence.”

  He bowed low, with his mocking crocodile-like smile. “Forgive my intrusion, for we have much to discuss.” His red eyes turned to me. “And you, my little slave, have succeeded beyond my expectations.”

  My mouth hung open. “No, I’m not your slave.”

  “Really? Did you actually think it would be this easy? Why should I spend decades searching and digging for the Sanctum, when I knew you would lead me right to her.”

  “But the slaves—”

  “Are here for another purpose.”

  “Enough!” The light throbbed. “I shall strike you down as fire to chaff.”

  His veined eyes turned up to the light, and his brow bent forward. He held up the palm of a clawed hand. “You may want to consider what you’re doing first.” He motioned his hands forward. “See the slaves within their shielded compound. They represent the whole of humanity, and she,” he pointed at me, “has graciously supplied me with most of the Human Resistance.”

  “The slaves have nowhere to run, and intermingled within them are my troops.” He waved a hand. “But not to worry, for they are not armed, but each one has a bio-medic explosive attached inside their armor.” He raised his right hand, and wrapped around his wrist was a tendriled purple mass. “Kill me and the explosive detonates, killing all the slaves and crippling you. Disobey me, and I can choose to kill as many slaves as I want.” He sneered. “Let’s try it out.”