by Shay Zana
Soon, sand falls onto the capsule and beats at its nikita plating, disrupting the small craft’s plane of flight and lift. The Paragon struggles to tame it, defying the storm like a madman, yelling hysterically as if enjoying the danger. His piloting skills are being put to the test. The capsule buckles under his hand, its biological metal-like material groaning as it expands to the intense heat, but even the thick armour plating does nothing to sturdy the vessel, and within no time at all, Boone is unable to stabilize his flight path, now growling as he attempts to pull its nose upward before the twirling sandstorm can drag him under.
“Come on, girlie,” he encourages the craft, still tugging on the kinetic controls, but as he hears the shard core give an ear-splitting cough as its inner equilibrium fails, he knows it is all over. The capsule dives inwardly, swallowed up by the groaning sandstorm, tumbling under its weight to merge with tones of sand and dirt.
THE KEY
Her Paragons are gone. She tries to banish the anguish that has seeded into her, but whenever she seeks serenity to focus on her meditations with the Zodiacs, her thoughts wander back to her Paragons. The inevitable Sacrifices loom darkly in her mind to a point where she questions her faith. Preserve human life. Preserve all life. Live in harmony. None of this is possible without sacrifices. There cannot be a perfect, happy ending without compromises and sacrifices, not after so much.
The muted tune of Altair’s notification chimes at the back of Kitera’s consciousness as she sits in the dark of her quarters. It is just another alert letting her know that Altair has passed into another star cluster. She has heard several of these quiet notifications throughout the two or three hours she has spent meditating, her mind swarming with the rapture of transcendence yet the frustration of continual failure.
Sighing, the woman relaxes her mind and warps back to her shell, opening her eyes tiredly. She needs to take a small break, replenish her body’s needs and attend to the hunger at the pit of her stomach. She enters the mess hall and makes her way to the kitchen, switching on the automatic coffee machine, much like the medical units in the wall. It extends out and accesses her datakey within nano-seconds, accumulating her preferences. Immediately, it begins to make a coffee with one teaspoon of ground coffee beans, frothed milk, and three teaspoons of sugar. She likes her coffee sweet. She has developed a taste for the more civilized foods since travelling with the Paragons, especially coffee. Her people typically prefer their food to be natural and fresh, unprocessed or altered by science. Of course, the Ciphers had expressed their concerns of obvious health risks with the food qualities of processing these days, but the universal councils had dismissed the matter, claiming that there simply was not enough food or enough time to harvest all natural foods for billions to consume. Usually, the word of a Cipher is sacred and must be obeyed, and any individual who denies their authority will be either shunned, exiled, or executed, depending on the circumstances. But in this circumstance, the Ciphers did not approach this nutritional matter with an ultimatum. It was simply offered as advice.
As Kitera awaits her coffee, she seeks out food in the pantry cupboard, closes it, and decides she will just go with a quick frozen meal, opening the chiller. She sees the empty boxes of beer. The Paragons have obviously consumed it all, well probably just Deo and Boone. She has never seen Natheus or Mazayus with any kind of alcoholic beverage in their hands. She too will never touch the horrid stuff, and can never get her head around why someone would want to poison themselves to quench their thirst when water is in good supply. She smiles in good humour, however, at the fact that Deo and Boone are so fond of the stuff, remembering once when they consumed too much and became different men. Usually, she would frown upon such abuse of dangerous activity, but that night, two years after setting out from the Milky Way, the two had been like best of friends. Deep down, she suspects that they secretly do not mind each other all that much, viewing each other as brothers.
She remembers laughter that night, spirits high, the warriors excited to do their duty and to see the largest galaxy ever to be conquered by man. From memory, it had been in celebration of Boone’s birthday, and of course, he had insisted on a gathering, with mountains of alcohol from their stockpile, which he and Deo managed to consume all on their own in something of a competition. Boone had turned eighteen, just legal to drink alcohol by Serenity law, but of course, he was so large by that age compared to normal men that when he consumed alcohol in small quantities it hardly affected him.
Both he and Deo were bedridden for two days after that, but still, every year they repeated the same ritual, so carefree. Now, many years later, that carefree attitude has diminished, and they now carry many cares. Soon they will cease to have any cares at all.
Suddenly, she breaks down, falling to her knees and burying her crumbling features in her quailing hands. Her world shrinks and darkens, her body fades to numbness, and her tears tumble unchecked onto the ground where they are absorbed by Altair’s nikita. She is so proud of her brave warriors, but the thought of losing them quakes her soul. They were born for this, trained in preparation, lived in hope, yet it does not soften the blow that such great men should give up their lives. Cringing back sobs, her hands are soon warmed by the misting touch of the ship’s entity as it attempts to comfort her, a cyan vapour clinging to her skin and radiating a pleasant heat. Kitera sniffs and has to smile at Altair’s loving support, enabling her to rise and resume the task at hand.
She sighs again, clenches her jaw, and grabs a quick frozen meal, thawing it out and grabbing for it almost angrily. Looking at this, she does miss the food of Nefnala, very much. The coffee machine pings in readiness and she darts over to retrieve her steaming hot cup, heading back down the hall to the observatory and sitting herself on the floor again, engulfing her food mercilessly and tossing the empty packaging away.
While sipping at the coffee, she tries to relax by breathing in deeply. She closes her eyes as she tastes the coffee and lets the warmth of it slide through her, the saturating smell wafting up to her nose. Her mind becomes opaque to thought as she dives deeper into her subconscious, accessing narrowing neural pathways until her senses burst and leap unto infinite light.
This time, she will get her answers, even if the effort pulls her away from physicality for eternity and leaves her shell a soulless husk. Her Paragons need her.
I remember the Sun. The way it shone its light, the way it gave and supported life, and the way it aged and grew gracefully, hovering angelically in the void of life.
But its absence leaves its own void. It has been stolen by thieves, thieves who know only the dark of that void.
The cold breeze sighs lightly in my ears, chilling at my skin, rushing a frosty thrill through my nerves. I see snow, pure white snow blanketing mountain chains, a pale waning sky to its back. A Sunless sky. Without the Sun, life on Earth is dying, freezing, darkening. Stars wink faintly in their emergence, waiting for their chance to conquer a dark Earth.
Snowflakes catch at the ends of my lashes as I stare out at my frozen planet, seeing it all at once, senses expanding on a global scale. Ice dominates all, and the planet is crying out for my aid, more so than when the people were killing it.
We overcame that, we can overcome this.
Taking in a frigid breath, I take my first step within the soft plumes of snow, my toes hugged by ice. Soon, the night sky emerges as the light of day is burned away, and I can see the familiar star formations and constellations surrounding Earth. Never again will light awaken the Earth, unless I find the Sun.
I follow the guidance of the stars. I move with ease, immune to the plummeting temperatures and the fading of air. I traverse glaciers, ascend mountains, and scout out frozen rivers across the landscape. I witness the mighty race of ice particles as avalanches tear their way down mountain flanks, and walk the blizzards of nature’s fury. There is nowhere that escapes my sight, nowhere that I do not feel the shying of life.
My feet carry me to where the l
and meets the sky, dark upon darkness. My eyes strain up into the dark to see Luna passing by as quickly as a mechanical satellite, orbiting at an unnatural rate. I watch the Earth roam the distance of space from ground zero, the moon just ahead, diminishing as it moves faster than the planet. Stars shoot across the skies while the faint film of a Sunless aurora swims in fluid speed.
The wind leans forward, the snow shuffling to join the air, circulating toward the black hole. I hear a groaning of the atmosphere, the clouds absorbing, making the night sky crystal clear. Vibrations beat at my hands and feet as they are planted firmly into the rising snow, my hair rising too, craving freedom.
The moon is the first to succumb to the crushing void, its mantle standing no chance as the forces of nature rip it apart and condense its mass down to hollowness. Earth is next. I brace myself, shielding my eyes with my forearms as light is swallowed.
“Ziva.”
I see her within the fire, limbs set firmly, staring me down with her demonic influence. I know her presence is dangerous, but I cannot see her in a dark light. I find myself wishing for her aid, her soft touch and warm smile again. Her grim façade thwarts any chance.
She symbolizes the barricade of the Demons. To reach the Zodiacs, I must pass her. But I sense something unexpected in her.
“You feel guilt,” my voice echoes around us, slipping through the crevices in fire.
She remains silent, the ablaze landscape still raging.
“I can sense it,” I carry through. “You feel guilty for all of this.” Her status does not alter, a statue of a beautiful woman cradled by fire, yet the fire itself flickers as if whipped by a breeze. “You regret your need for it all, but you see no other way, you see it all as necessary.”
In a sudden rush, the ghost of my sister blinks, and her fire sinks to reveal her face. “You waste your efforts, sister. You cannot convince us to stop. We are doing what must be done, deleting errors, rewriting codes, protecting the balance of all. The effort of your gods is admirable, and we regret our need to war on our kin, but they allowed themselves to grow fond of errors, in turn, infecting themselves with errors.
“Your scale of evolution is a virus. You grow unchecked, out of balance with all other life, threatening as you go, growing more fake as you consume, polluting not only the life around you but yourselves. We know your history. You came close to killing your own planet, too ignorant to understand until your gods stepped in. Now, allowed to go on, your kind kill outbound, and alter your own code, duplicating your flaws. You must be purged.”
“Only a portion of us rebel,” I defend with a shake of my head. “We can change, we just need the time to grow more. The Zodiacs, your kin, are working hard to help us see clearly. We can change.”
Ziva’s defiance softens in what appears to be pity, making my gut churn. “Despite your flawed life, you are the first to understand us. We do not take pleasure in our goal, but the end justifies the means. You understand that.”
I have to nod in agreement. “Yes. I understand.”
Ziva smiles as a reward, and the fire vanishes into smoke. She retains her angelic memory and beams at me in an exquisite glee, rushing to me with light freedom. “My Kiya! I knew you would understand.” Her loving arms embrace me as her lips peck my forehead. “I despise opposing you, and I have missed you so. Do you know how difficult it has been for me to witness your pain and do nothing? But you never have to be alone again, young sister.” Her eager show of pearly teeth is joined by her gently tugging hands. “Now, come. Be with us, with me. We can heal it all together.”
“No.”
Her smile dissolves, her hands release mine, and she blanches. The bare Earth even stops turning.
I take in the sight of her glow before it will fade away again, the hurt at just the thought already forming a welt on my heart. “No, Ziva,” I repeat gently, regretfully, almost compassionately. “I understand… but I do not agree.” I watch her withdraw slowly, so I approach just as slowly. “There is another way without sacrificing it all. Give me the time, and I will aid us all.”
“You cannot,” she whispers in sorrow.
“I can. It will take time, and many efforts, but we can change. Look what our people have already accomplished with subtle influence. With the threat of extinction and an even stronger influence, we can change even faster. All it takes is inspiration and strong leaders. I promise. Just give us the chance.”
I can see consideration in her features, spiking my nerves as my limbs tremble, my heart thunders, and my brain curdles. I want to clutch her and shake her to listen to me, to believe me and agree. “Please.”
My heart breaks as her head dips, a tear sloping down the bridge of her nose. “My Kiya,” she whimpers, hiding her face from me. I notice the motion of the planet once again, but fire does not emerge from roots of anger. “You do not understand us.” Her eyes rise, clouded by black depths, possessing the dark of all space and pulling it over us both until a clap of finality closes our exchange.
But I sense a weakness.
Familiarity slaps my memory. The septuple star system that exists near the core of the parallel galaxy. I see seven stars of all heat frequencies. Nebulous gas curls around their gravitational masses like mirroring water, and the liquid nikita spheres mar the distance in bright reflective radiance. My eyes gaze up at the sky as Earth slides through this magnificent star system, the moon just ahead, leading the way.
Slowly, the seven stars all begin to shift from their original orbits and subtly glide together as if caught in the winds of a tornado. The anchor is the blue supergiant, enabling the other smaller stars to immerse themselves within. A blinding supernova pushes at the Earth in a shockwave of monumental euphony, shredding off the darkness with a hellfire. When the skies shade down and return to their starry wild, I can sense the result.
A new breed of star. One that is invisible to the primitive sense of sight, serving as a stability link between physical reality and transcendent reality. I feel its interloping harmony with all dimensions. The Star of the Gods envelopes this galactic web of stars like a chain, giving off brutal energy. I am in the unknown, the eternal abyss. My body has perished and my spirit has ascended to the shallow realms of transcendence. I no longer own the sense of sight, smell, taste, sound or feel, but I can sense without these senses. Pure knowledge in the form of energy.
I sense the core of this galaxy. I sense its cascading veils of stardust conspiring together, fusing in a mesh of reality. I sense the quantum entanglement event that forever connects the centre of the galaxy to every dimension, like a portal in a black hole. Portals only the gods can understand and use. I sense that here, everything is weaved into one, where the gods once dwelled, part of all dimensions, not locked into one each as prisoners of their own punishment. Their war had been their demise, but now it is our salvation.
I have been mistaken, my senses covered by misconception and false deciphering, guarded by the Demons. I sense my journey is not over. I have not found the Sun, but I have found the answers I need.
I have found the key.
CHANGE OF PLANS
Patrolling a skycity is not simple, and herding hundreds of thousands of civilians and bossing around military officials is not pleasant when they scream in your face and disrespect your supposed holy authority. Deo had been deployed on Scorpio, a moderately cold planet in the parallel cordon of the galaxy from Brutus Superior.
Eighty percent of Scorpio’s landmass is ocean, and because of the resulting extreme weather systems, all skycities installed have the capability to descend beneath the ocean and settle on the ocean floor, where they will be protected from ravaging storms and threatening ocean tides. Of course, countermeasures are put into place to keep from disrupting native life in the oceans.
Today, the skies are dark, grey, and angrily stormy. Lightning claps through the curdling clouds, flashing the swaying seas with light and revealing its wild waves. Lightning Skycity, aptly named, is braving the conditio
ns and is still suspended above the ocean, clouded in a kinetic shield to protect from lightning strikes, tornados, tidal waves, hurricanes and torrential rain.
Deo is perched on the skystreets, rain pouring down at him as the kinetic shield around the city allows a small quantity to seep through and nourish gardens. His unkempt hair sticks to his head and the back of his neck, every strand drowned by water, though it does not bother him. The tidiness of his hair has never been an issue for him, despite receiving constant referrals from his armourers to tame it to military regulations for helmet safety. Hair has never snagged yet, the rear plate always tucks it away before the metamorphosis completes.
He is overseeing the ahead-of-schedule evacuation process he had ordered in place, not just for Scorpio, but for the entire Scorpion Star System. With authority and permission given by both the Ciphers and King Anzac, he encountered only mild resistance by city councils and military forces stationed throughout the system, and before long, he was able to scare them into evacuating to the neighbouring star system, telling them that their star was going to explode and they were all going to fry to crisps. Despite the dire situation, he enjoyed that. Seeing the smug, disbelieving looks on their faces suddenly transform to that of fear and panic.
Now, he is watching capsules flee across the city to dart home, pack belongings, and then report to evacuation centres where they will be taken via starship off-world. He is being fed constant reports by council members and officials who are co-ordinating the evacuation, and from military scouts and big-wigs who are keeping the system borders clear, ready to escort civilian starships. Above, Deo can see the rainfall hammering down on the kinetic sphere over the continent-sized city, floods of water streaming down like a fountain. Outside, everything is just obscured by a thickly trickling haze of water.