by Shay Zana
The elite warriors and their Cipher walk along the cliff’s edge, tracing the edge of the jungle with the waning star in their vision. The heat has decreased from forty Celsius to a comfortable twenty Celsius, and still falling with the pleasantly cool breeze. The continent they have landed on is in the equator of Olympus, so the daily temperatures are usually balmy no matter the season. The continent is currently in its summer cycle, where the blue vegetation and other carbon based life-forms bloom with golden veins more vividly than any other season, expanding and stretching out to absorb their fill of light from Messiah.
The squad moves in column formation, but this time they are less strict about the tactical order, although Natheus has naturally taken point. Despite the fact that they are extremely exposed on the high ridge, they also have the advantage of the high ground, and distance. If the UEU spots them, their snipers will be rendered practically useless at over five kilometres, and of course, they would not have any weapon as advanced as the prototype Parallel sniper rifle. With just one shot, Natheus can take out three people.
They continue west, occasionally stopping as Natheus scouts ahead and scans the jungle below for any movement. He currently has a nikita shard loaded in his rifle. The stealth and reconnaissance specialist prefers simplicity and any elemental shard may bring damage to the surrounding environment. If they did engage in a firefight and were to bring harm to the native life, it would be acceptable, but unfortunate. Serenity trains their soldiers to respect native life and the environment, but also to do what is necessary when there are no other options available.
The Paragon kneels at the edge of the cliff and props his sniper comfortably on his knee, supporting the heavy weapon. He peers through the optical sight and scans the jungle with thermal vision. His datakey is active and syncs with the sniper under the command through his neural-root, accessing the other two barrels and scanning the jungle with him. The two barrels move like rigid snakes, bending both horizontally and vertically as they search across the terrain, a structural advantage of the biological metal-like ikamanu bone. In a way, the datakeys are personal A.I’s, but with limited communicational interaction and access. Neither Serenity nor the UEU use complex artificial intelligence programs, as a minor A.I rebellion a few hundred years ago ceased the studies and productions, and the overall confidence in them. In short, a human-A.I hybrid was created.
The primary barrel in the centre of the two A.I controlled barrels stays firm and straight, completely under Natheus’ control as it moves with the rifle.
Not too far behind, the others follow at a casual pace. They halt as they wait for him, either sitting on the flat rock or just standing patiently, savouring any breaks he can give them in order to allow the sapping affect of cryo-stasis to wear off.
Boone watches Natheus thoughtfully. “He must be pretty pissed right now,” he prattles with a strong southern U.S.A accent, which he inherited from his training instructors and caretakers during his young years of training. “First he was trying to save his wife, then he thought she was gonna die for sure, then he thought she had lived a full life without him, and now it’s back to square one and he’s trying to save her again, except this time we have no idea what the fuck’s going on. Life’s a bitch like that sometimes, huh?”
“Just shut the hell up, Boone,” Deo sneers almost lazily, seating himself on the ground and resting his elbows comfortably on his spread knees.
Boone just shrugs. “Does anyone even know her name? Nathy never said.”
The others give no reply.
“Much easier to just not get married. Who gets married these days anyway? It’s old school.”
“It’s traditional,” Mazayus remarks.
“It’s old school, that’s what it is.”
Mazayus shakes his head and looks away from Boone, admiring the view from their vantage point. The sense of urgency has diminished, and right now, their primary goal is to recover from the cryonic process. Such stress on the body interferes with the telepathic manipulation of their entities, and without their entities, creating a supernova event within a star is impossible. The UEU invading what appears to be a deserted planet cannot sidetrack them from their mission.
Noting Mazayus’ reluctance to engage in small-talk, Boone glances at Deo quickly, a look of mischievous intention riddled in his young features. “Maybe her name’s so wacky that he’s embarrassed to tell us... like Gertrude or something.” He falls silent for a moment, allowing his audience to breathe a sigh of blissful relief. Too soon. “Meh,” he drones on. “At least it can’t be worse than an abbreviation for deodorant.”
Deo shoots Boone a look that could kill, one that Kitera had been anticipating, calling Boone over quietly to stifle any exchange of foul words.
Fully aware of the situation, Boone ventures over to Kitera sitting at the edge of the cliff, away from the others. She watches him as he looks below the cliff before sitting down next to her, his pupils enlarging the slightest.
“You should not provoke him,” she says to him at length.
Boone knows she is talking about Deo. She never does like it when the man becomes angered, she seems to grow nervous, which is strange. Kitera is one of the strongest women Boone has ever met, aside from Paragon women, who are trained to know no fear. “Sorry,” he offers quickly. “He’s just so easy to piss off.”
Kitera sighs and looks to Messiah, wishing the daylight would never fade under the horizon. Too long has she been bathed in artificial starlight, but although she has missed light similar to the Sun, she now misses Altair’s light. She would give up Messiah for Altair any day.
“It doesn’t look like it’s dying,” Boone says as he follows her stare.
She mumbles something in a language he cannot understand, now sighs. “It is,” she says in English. “The Zodiacs will not enlighten me as to why, but Messiah and all other stars in this galaxy are dying, and we have little time to stop it.”
As the sky darkens, the guardian station becomes faintly visible behind the cluster of moons encircling the planet. With a radius of over 30,00km, the guardian station reflects the light of both Olympus and its parent star with almost mirror clarity.
“So how are you feeling?” Boone asks her, concerned for her health after the intense g-load during re-entry. “You wouldn’t have been trained for speed re-entry in an SSP, you could’ve been killed, especially with the thinner oxygen levels in yours.”
“I have experienced re-entry in an SSP,” Kitera replies bluntly, continuing her distant stare.
Although Boone loves Kitera like a brother loves a sister, he constantly fails to understand her. Ciphers are trained to withstand atmospheric re-entry? He always imagines Ciphers to be treated as royalties or monks, living in golden temples, dressed in diamonds from head to toe, and praying to the Zodiacs every hour of every day. The perfect people of peace and elegance. But underneath all that delicate beauty, Kitera is filled with resilience and surprises. Are all Ciphers like her?
“Ciphers are trained in speed re-entry?” he voices his thoughts.
She remains silent.
Frowning, Boone studies her seemingly blank stare, wishing she would open up more about herself and her mysterious people. “So... what’s the next step?” Boone now asks, deciding to let it go and change the subject. “We summon an ikamanu, then what? Go ahead with the original plan and head to Brutus Superior?”
“Yes. We must continue with the mission, despite the loss of Altair and our current situation.”
“What about that UEU ship?”
“We must deal with them before leaving, and find out why they are here, but it is not our primary objective.”
Boone almost smiles in excitement. He was born to fight, and being cooped up in Altair for seven years with only a simulation world to keep fit in has left him more than agitated. If he is soon to fulfil his destiny and give his Sacrifice for the star Brutus, then he wants to at least get the chance to fight once more before doing so.
/> Kitera notices his inner daze and wonders what is on his mind. Killing, she suspects. One thing she does not particularly favour about Boone is his fascination with explosions and the joy that killing brings him. She recognizes that the fact that he is at peace with killing is a good thing as a Paragon, and that he is able to perform his duty without regrets or self conflict, but she also feels that the training of Paragons takes away their respect for life. Deo is a perfect example. He does not see the universe like most other Paragons are raised to, and she is afraid that Boone may fall down the same path as him.
“Killing brings you joy, does it not?” Kitera asks Boone, her voice soft, but somewhat confronting.
Boone hesitates for a moment, thinking carefully about his answer. “Only as much joy as a Paragon is taught to feel.”
The Cipher just gives a small smile at his lie. She knows him better than he thinks.
Up ahead, Natheus has been satisfied by what he sees below, or what he does not see below, and stands again, holding his rifle deftly across his abdomen. Without a word or signal to the others, the Paragon slings his rifle over his shoulder and moves on, confident in their awareness of his movements.
Surely enough, Mazayus had his eye on him the whole time. “Time to move,” he informs as they all simultaneously follow like obedient sheep.
They continue for at least three kilometres along the ridge until it eventually drops to meet the jungle floor. The rocky ridge was evidently created by a series of earthquakes, where the plate boundaries met and the fault line was enlarged, with one plate forcing the planet’s crust upward to create the almost unnatural looking cliff. The fault they walk along now is a sub-fault, perpendicular to the main plate boundary that divides the large continent called Isis. The extraterrestrial mountain ranges rise up like rumples in a carpet as the plates collide and grind together in the dynamic flux of the planet’s surface, creating ripples of tension.
By the time they reach the blue grass again, the quiet ambiance of night has spread throughout the skies, revealing the brilliant stars and setting the many moons aglow with the fluorescent cosmic dust. The guardian station is now bright with reflections, lighting the dark side of the planet with faint orange warmth to blend with the cool moonlight.
The majestic view throughout the skies is nearly enough to distract the Paragons, who must rely more heavily now on their instruments to detect any dangers. Not only are the Paragons using their optics on their weaponry, but they also have a more convenient way of detecting dangers. Most soldiers within both the Serenity and the UEU militaries use optical irises, which are gel-like eye contact lenses that serve as optical sights, scopes and detectors. They consist of three layers. The first is the melding layer, which is designed for the genetic code of the individual soldier they are constructed for. The melding layer connects to the soldier’s neural activity, sending impulses to the brain and allowing the datakey to synchronize with the optic iris. This allows the soldier to control the optic iris telepathically through their neural-roots. The second layer is the holographic layer, which displays the desired optic. And the third layer is the protective layer, which hardens and resists damage from multiple outside forces such as finger contact, temperature, water, pressure, and many other damaging forces. For UEU soldiers, their optic irises are less advanced due to the fact that they do not use datakeys.
The eyes of the four Paragons glow a rich green as their optic irises utilize their night vision, giving them the ability to see their way within the heavy blue jungle. Moving through the thick jungle is more difficult in the dark, and what would take them just a few hours to walk sixteen kilometres, will take at least two days due to the dense foliage. Navigating on a straight course will be near impossible, and even now they have to divert to the northwest to reach around a cluster of trees so closely woven together that the human body cannot weave between them. Thirst and hunger grows on their minds, and they pass several integrated streams flowing through the jungle, fresh from the mountains, so there is no shortage of water.
The long walk is no struggle for the Paragons, who have endured through much worse during their training. Although they are fit and healthy, the need to stay rested and rejuvenated still weighs on them. Their entities require the user to be in top shape for the energy to be utilized efficiently. Theoretically, the better shape the body and mind is in, the stronger and more responsive the entity. An entity is able to link telepathically and telekinetically to their host's nervous system and mind and be manipulated through physical movements or thoughts alone. Such symbiosis is a feat in itself, and containing such an energy, doubled by the other requirements of the human body, has been hampered by the stressful and tiring cryonic process.
In time, they stop to quench their thirst, drawn by the refreshing sound of flowing aqua. A narrow stream has found its way to cascade down through small rocky mounds, purified naturally and crystal clear. The thick line of trees begins to diminish around the edge of the stream, giving the squad a clear sight of how far the stream flows through the dark jungle.
Kitera stoops to her knees beside the stream and cups her hands together, dipping them into the cool water. It feels incredible as she brings the water to her lips, sipping it sparingly at first, then smiling and drinking the rest, encouraging the Paragons to also do so.
The Paragons drink their fill and splash the water over their faces to cool themselves. The water-proof material of their vitasuits is undisturbed as the water simply glides down, and their optic irises are protected by their outer layers.
Mazayus suggests they search for edible food and rest for the remainder of the night, insisting that they will make better progress with more energy and the daylight, but Deo dismisses this and pushes that they tread as much distance as possible through the night, saying that it will be harder for UEU scouts to spot them in the dark. Natheus agrees with Deo, and also points out that the UEU will eventually come to investigate the distress signals of their SSP’s, so the more distance they make from their landing sight the better. The others are convinced, and they soon set off again.
They follow the direction of the stream, hoping it will lead them through accessible paths. Kitera is almost blind in the darkness when they once again pass through thickly knitted treetops, and even the light of the brightly lit night sky is clouded through the hugging foliage. After stumbling multiple times, Boone begins to offer to carry her, to which she repeatedly declines with grace and continues, ignoring her sore bare feet and weariness.
The brightly burning moons in the night sky reveal the stream's length clearly as it weaves thinly through the lands. With all the glowing activity on the dark side of the planet, the night really is not the night as the humans emerge through the trees to find a small pond. Everything is lit by the entwined moons and the guardian station in the distance, and the calm waters of the pond are alive with shimmering iridescence, reflecting the glowing light of the golden-veined leaves.
"Here," Kitera speaks suddenly, coming to a halt. The others stop too and turn to look at her pale face, highlighted in the moonlight. "I must send off the fallen."
The Paragons understand that she means to have some sort of memorial ceremony for Altair.
"There's no time, we need to move quickly if we want to reach the UEU before they leave." Deo stands impatiently at the head of their formation.
"I know," she replies. "But this cannot wait any longer. My people do not delay to send off the dead, for the spirit may become lost and cannot pass on."
Deo moves from the front of their line and pushes past the other Paragons, approaching the Cipher and towering over her. “Your people are billions of light years away, in another damn galaxy. Listen to me, if we don’t get a move on, then we could end up stuck on this planet and the mission really will fail after all. Olympus authorities didn’t respond to our distress signal, so we have no backup, no support, and hours earlier we just saw the UEU rolling in with a damn warship. For all we know, whatever the reason t
hat we got here so fast, could also be the reason why the entire planet seems deserted. There’s no time.” He says his last sentence slowly, as if she is a child and does not understand, and this offends her.
“You think I do not know this?” she asks, raising her voice slightly. “I know the stakes, I know the stakes more than you do, more than any of you do. But if everyone here is dead-”
“If everyone here is dead?” Deo interrupts. “You’re a Cipher, just ask the Zodiacs. And while you’re at it, ask them why the UEU is here, ask them how we got here, ask them what the hell is going on!”
As Kitera takes a step back, frightened by Deo’s aggression, Mazayus takes a step forward behind Deo, silently encouraging him to calm himself.
Deo sighs. He knows that under different circumstances, he would be incarcerated for even raising his voice to a Cipher. “Kitera,” he pleads, taking a gentle step toward her as she stares at him with her light eyes.
“It does not work like that,” she finally answers him, her voice tinged with remorse. “If the people of Olympus have been killed, then I owe them this, just as much as Altair. Please, this will not take long.”
The men exchange glances momentarily, and now Deo shrugs and looks to the night skies, as if cursing the Zodiacs.
While Kitera sits cross legged in the blue grass at the edge of the glimmering pond, the Paragons spread out and set up a perimeter, their green mechanistic eyes scanning the jungle around them, darkened by the tree cover.
Closing her bright eyes, the Cipher begins a low and drumming hum, emanating deep within herself. Her voice wavers in dark rhythms, ancient and chilling in nature, and now her tone suddenly changes, her voice rising in pitch and becoming sweet and angelic. She sings a beautiful melody, without lyrics, just a chant of pure pitch and notes. Deep growls resonate within her, joined by faint harmonies. Her vocal range is incredible, and she is able to do things with her voice that is almost unimaginable.
The Paragons listen to her beautiful voice as it dips and rises, echoing crisply and clearly through the air. Several times Deo interrupts by shushing her to lower her sound, but she ignores him. She finishes on a low drum again, and now opens her eyes, her silver irises growing more intense as her pupils shrink to accommodate for the brightly lit gap in the jungle.