Alien Shadows

by Daniel Arenson

  The cage swung from a massive black tree, and the land beyond seemed even stranger. Wherever Nova was, it was no longer the planet Kaperosa. That much was certain. The sky was black, the ground rocky. But that ground was not flat, not even curved. It flared up, sank, rose all around her, twisting at every imaginable angle. The ground was both above Nova and below her simultaneously. The sky was both stormy and calm, both dark and clear and showing the stars.

  Nova felt sick.

  A hill rose below, fractured into several hills like a beam of light through a crystal, and upon its crest grew a red rose. Nova stared at the flower, her breath catching. She could see a single rose, yet . . . she could see it in multiple states. She saw the seed being planted. She saw the rose bloom. She saw it wither and die. Yet it never changed, frozen in time, its lifespan spreading ahead of her.

  But strangest of all—more than the rose, the hill, the sky—were the visions of herself.

  Nova could see a stream of gold stretch across the landscape—a million reflections of Nova Tashei, like the frames of animation spread out side by side. To her left, she saw herself manhandled into this very cage. Towering, angular creatures were dragging her by the arms, similar to the ghosts that had invaded the observatory but larger, solid and gleaming. At first Nova started, ready to fight, but these creatures too were mere slides, mere memories that floated in the air. To her right, Nova saw reflections of herself fleeing the cage, racing toward a starship on the land below. She recognized the Drake, the dagger-shaped ship stolen from the observatory, and she saw that starship in a million reflections flying into the distance. The farther these slides were, the more blurred they became.

  "I'm looking through time," Nova whispered. "I can see my past. My future." Her breath shuddered. "Where am I?"

  A voice answered behind her. "In the great darkness of Yurei."

  Nova spun around, reaching for her whip.

  She froze and let her hand drop.

  Nova's eyes widened, and a gasp shook her chest.

  "Twig!" she cried.

  The mechanic stood in the cage a few feet away from Nova. The halfling had been easy to miss. Twig stood only about half as tall as Nova, and her body—even clad in a space suit—was thin as a sapling. A jet pack hung across her back, and she held her helmet under her arm. Twig's black hair hung down to her shoulders, and her blue eyes stared at Nova with sadness.

  "They got both of us," Twig said. "They kidnapped you first, Nova. I was still in the observatory when it happened. Yet I've been trapped here for days, and you've only now arrived. Time acts strangely inside Yurei."

  Nova was a proud warrior, a great gladiator. Back on the Dragon Huntress, she had spent most of her time with Steel—the only other Alien Hunter who knew how to fight. In her service upon the Dragon Huntress, Nova had gone down into the engine room only once, finding little in common with its short denizens.

  Now, however, the sight of Twig's round, pale face shot hope and love through Nova. She leaped forward, knelt, and pulled the tiny mechanic into an embrace.

  "Twiggle Jauntyfoot!" Nova laughed and mussed the halfling's hair. "Yes, they got me too." She narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing Twig. "Are you hurt, little one?"

  Twig shook her head. "I don't think so. They didn't hurt me. Just . . . took me here."

  "Took you? Who?"

  The halfling shuddered. "The ones of four. The shades. That's what they called themselves."

  Nova turned around, looking from side to side, seeking the creatures. Her head spun, and she nearly lost her lunch. Whenever she moved, Nova left reflections behind her, filling the cage with them. When she moved her arm before her, she left a trail of gold.

  Though she saw crisp images of herself, she saw only blurry reflections of the enemy. The "shades" had left this place, and already their afterimages were fading.

  "They're the ghosts from Kaperosa," Nova whispered.

  Only in this place, they were different. Much larger, flaring out, creatures of many limbs and eyes. Fully formed. Gone was their blobby smokiness; here they took solid form, at least judging by their reflections.

  "I'm looking through time," her reflection said to her left. "I can see my past. My future. Where am I?"

  "In the great darkness of Yurei," Twig said behind her.

  Nova spun back toward the halfling. "You already said that."

  "They got both of us," one of the halfling's reflections said.

  Nova clutched her head. She fell to her knees. She shuffled closer to Twig, trying to block out the blabbering reflections, and grabbed the young mechanic's arms.

  "Where are we?" she said.

  "Inside the black hole," said Twig—the real Twig, Nova thought. "On the Dark Planet, a world that floats within the blackness of Yurei. Look behind you. Look at the sky."

  Nova looked behind her, peering between her reflections and the cage bars. Far in the distance, a rocky world floated in the sky. It was Kaperosa, she surmised, but no longer the round planet it had always been. It too was refracted, spreading out, stretching into rocky rings. If not for the distant glint of the observatory upon it, she might not have recognized it.

  "I'm looking through time," said a reflection.

  "They got both of us."

  "Where am I?"

  "Took you? Who?"

  "I'm looking through time."

  "Where am I?"

  The damn reflections kept prattling on, repeating the same words over and over. Nova groaned. A moment later, her reflection groaned too.

  Thank goodness Romy isn't here, Nova thought. The demon's echoes would crack the whole cosmos.

  "Why is this happening?" she whispered to Twig, daring not speak louder to add to the incessant patter. "Why these reflections, why is the ground all around us, why does the cage coil and curve? You're smarter than me, Twig. What's going on?"

  Why am I so afraid? Nova wanted to ask too, but dared not. An ashai warrior must never know fear. Yet now cold sweat washed Nova, and her fingers trembled, and her heart beat too fast. She could fight in worlds she understood. How could she fight something she couldn't even comprehend?

  Twig leaned closer, holding Nova, and whispered, "We're in a higher dimension."

  Nova blinked. "You mean a parallel universe?"

  "No." Twig shook her head. "We're in a four-dimensional reality."

  Nova tilted her head. "Twig, I can name every type of sword across the galaxy, and I can recite the creeds of a hundred martial arts, but you'll have to dumb down science for me."

  Twig nodded. "All right. A single dimension forms a line. Two dimensions can form a square. Three dimensions can form a cube. Four dimensions form . . . well, what we see around us. We're three-dimensional beings caught in a four-dimensional world, like a flat paper square floating through a room."

  Nova looked around her at the chattering reflections. She stared far to her left, where her faded reflections were being dragged across the landscape and into the cage.

  "So why can I see through time?"

  "I'm not sure," Twig whispered. "But I think that what you and I have always thought of as 'time' is simply the fourth dimension. A dimension we've always been marching along at a steady pace, like a train moving on a track. But now that we're in a four-dimensional world, well . . . time is just another direction we can take. Same as walking side to side or jumping up and down."

  Nova looked to her right. More of her reflections spread out there in a stream like cards spread across a table. She watched the reflections jumping out of the cage, leaping toward the rocky earth, and racing toward the Drake which stood below. Smudged reflections of Twig seemed to be running with her. Farther out, the reflections were hazy, but it looked as if the starship was flying out of the black hole.

  "There it is," Nova said softly. "My future." She turned back toward Twig. "We're going to escape this place. And we're going to fly back. I know it. The reflections don't lie."

  Nova smiled thinly, drew her whip, and began
lashing at the cage bars.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN:

  DEMON'S WRATH

  They stood in the media room, dozens of scientists and a handful of Alien Hunters, watching the monitor.

  Watching the tragedy of Earth.

  "By the stars," Giga whispered and turned away.

  Steel embraced the android, staring over her shoulder, his jaw clenched.

  Many here had tears in their eyes, but Steel would not cry. He had to be strong. For Lenora. For Nova and Twig—both vanished, perhaps still alive somewhere. For the rest of them. His insides roiled, and his teeth gnashed, but he forced himself to keep staring at the monitor.

  The footage showed Earth . . . an Earth falling.

  The ghosts swarmed across the streets, toppling cars, smashing buildings, clawing people. Whoever they touched screamed, flickered, and vanished from reality. News reporters raced with the crowds. Steel's chest clenched as the footage showed Cog City, his hometown. Highways were collapsing and buildings falling. Thousands of aerocars filled the sky, fleeing the city. And everywhere the ghosts swarmed, covering the planet in a shadowy miasma.

  "The creatures' ships seem to have traveled here from Yurei, a black hole a hundred light years away," a news reporter was saying, running down the street. "There is no word from the human observatory studying the black hole, and all we know is that our guns have no effect on the ghosts, that—"

  The monitor showed a swarm of the blobby creatures leaping down into the crowd. The reporter screamed, then shattered into a thousand black shards. The cameraman fell, and the footage showed nothing but feet pounding down the street.

  "I should be there," Steel whispered. "I should never have left. I'm a Knight of Sol, sworn to defend the Earth." His fists tightened. "Yet now I can only watch, helpless to stop the slaughter."

  Romy stood nearby, tears rolling down her cheeks. Riff stared with dark eyes, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. Lenora huddled with her fellow scientists, embracing them. All stared together, eyes damp.

  "We need to fly there," Steel said, voice hoarse. "We need to fix the starship. We need to be there. We—"

  "No," Giga said.

  Steel stared at her. The android was still embracing him, but her tears had dried, and she stared up into his eyes. Giga was barely taller than his shoulder, slender as a sapling, but a deep strength filled her eyes. The others turned to look too, tearing their eyes away from the footage of destruction.

  "No?" Steel asked.

  "No," Giga repeated. "No, we do not need to be on Earth."

  "Giga!" Steel said, holding her at arm's length. "Don't you care that people are dying? That these ghosts are destroying the planet, that—"

  "They are not ghosts," Giga said. "And of course I care. I might be an android, but I'm not a pitiless machine. I want to save the Earth. It's my planet as much as it's yours, Steel. And we would not serve it by dying there. This—right here—is exactly where we need to be." The android looked around her at the others. "Those creatures come from Yurei. This black hole we're orbiting. We cannot defeat them with conventional weapons, but we can study them. We will not win this war with swords, guns, hammers, or whips . . . but with wisdom. We must stay, and we must study them. We must understand who they are."

  As always, whenever he gazed into the android's eyes, whenever he felt her soft touch, Steel's anxiety and pain melted. She was ever like a mug of warm, mulled wine, offering comfort in the cold.

  "As always, you are wiser than I am, Giga." He kissed the top of her head, then turned to look at his brother. "I believe it's time, Riff, that we ask your trapped ghost some questions."

  * * * * *

  The brothers stood in the lab, staring at the ghost in the trap.

  The creature screeched, fluttering inside the invisible electromagnetic shield. It grew to grotesque size, filling the entire square, then shrank. It howled. It snapped teeth. Its head contracted to a pinpoint, then swelled, then screamed again. For an instant the creature nearly vanished, shrinking into a mere speck, then expanded with rage, exploding in a big bang, crashing into the shield and falling back down.

  "Release me!" it cried, voice rising from another world, emerging from the floor, the walls, from inside Riff's own skull. "Release me or you will scream for eternity."

  Riff tapped his cheek. "I think . . . no."

  The alien screamed again. It thrust toward Riff, jaws opening to an obscene size, large enough to swallow a man whole. Riff stood calmly. Centimeters away from him, the ghost slammed into the force field, then crumpled and fell back.

  "Enough of these games," Steel said. The knight stepped forward and raised his sword. Battery packs were strapped onto the blade, pulsing out their own magnetic wave. "You will answer our questions, shadowy one, or I will hurt you."

  The ghost spun toward the knight and hissed. Its body twitched like some rabid octopus squeezing between stones.

  "Ah, the outcast knight," hissed the creature. "The man who swore to defend Earth, yet abandoned it during its hour of need." The ghost cackled, a horrible sound like snapping bones. "The man who abandoned his lover to join an ancient order, only to be banished from that order like an errant cull. Tell me, Steel Starfire . . . as my brethren slay your fellow humans on Earth, how will you justify your failure to the one you love? What will you tell your sweet Lenora as the Earth burns and you cower here? Or perhaps you will abandon her again, like you did all those years ago, as I crush her bones and suck her blood and—"

  Steel thrust his sword.

  The blade drove through the trap's force field and pumped out electromagnetic force of its own.

  The creature within screamed in pain.

  The ghost parted along the blade, fluttering outward. It tried to lash its claws but cut only air. It fell back, shrank, and bunched up in the corner. From there it glared with burning eyes. Steel thrust Solflare again, casting more waves against the creature. It writhed and wailed.

  "Enough," Riff said. He guided his brother's sword down. "He's had enough pain for now."

  The creature curled up, hissing, teeth gnashing before vanishing into shadows.

  "What are you?" Riff said. "Tell me everything and we won't hurt you again."

  The ghost leaped up, flew across its square cell, and slammed into the force field. "I will tell you nothing, one of three. But you will tell me everything. All your secrets. All your shame. You will scream of them as you beg me to let you die. Perhaps you will tell me how you let your mother die, how the cyborg slew her while you cowered in your bed. Or perhaps you will tell me how you let your precious Nova and Twig vanish. Oh yes, Starfire. I know about the ashai and the halfling. My brethren break them as we speak. They too are screaming and begging. How they weep! How much pain they take!"

  Riff grabbed the sword from his brother and thrust the blade.

  The ghost screamed.

  As Riff kept the sword pointed forward, both terror and relief filled him. Terror that Nova and Twig were being hurt. Relief that they still lived.

  "You will talk!" Riff said, finally pulling the sword back. "Do you hear me, creature? You will tell me your name. You will identify your race. You will answer everything I ask, or we'll keep hurting you. If you tell me everything I need to know, I will contact your masters and swap you for Nova and Twig. Until then you will cooperate."

  The ghost flowed closer like smoke. It stared at Riff, and in its eyes, Riff saw visions of that nightmarish land, of a red rose upon a black hill.

  "Hurt me all you like, one of three," the creature whispered. "My tolerance for pain knows no bounds, much like my cruelty. Stab me with your blade. Crush me with your invisible fields. Do to me as you like, but I will not tell you what you want to hear. I will say only this: my mistress, Dark Queen Yurei, is coming. On the day of her arrival, you will all die in agony. Every soul here will be hers to torment."

  Riff glanced at Steel. The knight stared back, eyes hard. Wordlessly, they stepped to the back of the room. They
stood by a wall lined with shelves topped with handheld computers.

  "What do we do?" Riff whispered.

  Steel's eyes darkened. "I do not relish the idea of hurting it some more. It angered me. I lashed out. But I do not wish to cause it more pain."

  Riff glanced at the creature, then back at Steel. "We might have to. It has Nova and Twig. And maybe the scientists who vanished from this observatory before we got here. And . . . oh gods, Steel, these creatures are attacking Earth. Killing thousands, maybe millions. We need information fast about how to defeat them. Every moment we wait, more people are dying."

  Steel's teeth gnashed. "So we become torturers? We abandon all honor?"

  "I don't know." Riff lowered his head. "I don't like the idea of hurting a living being any more than you do. Even a cruel being like this one. But what if it's the only way to save the Earth? To save Nova and Twig?" He grimaced. "God, Steel . . . they might be torturing Nova and Twig right now."

  Steel stared at the creature at the back of the room. His eyes narrowed, and his eyebrows bunched together. "Yet even if we proceed to hurt it, will it speak? So far it's tolerating the pain. We could find ourselves hurting it for hours, staining our souls, only for it to continue to mock us."

  Riff stared at the creature too. It glared from its pen, panting, hissing, eyes burning, mocking them. Riff had the uncomfortable feeling that it had heard everything they had whispered here.

  Remember the tesseract, stupid, Nova had said. Riff lowered his head. He missed her.

  "Uhm . . . sirs? Can I help?"

  Riff turned to see Romy tiptoe into the lab. The demon had snagged a lab coat from somewhere and cut holes in the back for her wings. Horn-rimmed glasses perched upon her nose, and she held a telescope under her arm.

  "No!" Riff said. "Get back to guarding the airlock. And take off that ridiculous getup. You're a demon, not an astronomer."