Fractured Prophecy

by P J McDermott

  Hickory raced up the last two hundred meters amid panicked Bikashi.

  Which way? Hickory’s eyes flitted in every direction.

  A squad of security ran past and stationed themselves at the head of the travelator, rifles pressed hard against their shoulders, pointing down.

  Aslexis said I should take the corridor directly opposite then keep left at each intersection until I reach the science labs.

  She strode forward, avoiding oncoming voyeurs, keen to see what the fuss was about.

  “What are you doing in this place, Lakedweller? Let me see your transit authorization.” The security guard blocked her path and forced Hickory against the wall with his rifle. Civilian Bikashi stared at them as they ran past, fear in their eyes.

  “The Scarg are behind, sir. They are killing everyone.” Hickory fumbled in her pocket for the ID provided by Aslexis.

  The guard examined the card, then inserted it into his scanner. “Clear. Move to your station, quickly. Some are already blaming the Lakedwellers for this riot.” He handed her back the card and stepped back.

  #

  Gareth called her from his SIM to provide an update on the evacuation of Dur Untash. I’m on my way to the ship with my last load now, including our headman, Ishnu. Jess has one more trip, and then all the Mitanni and their belongings will be on board. Although pretty poor belongings, to tell the truth.

  What about Sikona? How are he and Sabrina?

  Sikona seems to have everything well in hand. He offered the ship’s crew the chance to join the resistance. Those who refused, he put back in the lock-up. Sikona says they’ll be released before we leave the planet. He introduced me to his sister. Interesting lady. She’s with the humans now, tending to their sick. Quite a few have developed some sort of scurvy and Sabrina is bathing their wounds and feeding them citrus fruits. She seems to have developed a great rapport with the kids in particular.

  No surprises there, thought Hickory. Sabrina’s been looking to find meaning in her existence for years. Looks like she found it. She smiled wistfully. She’d lost life’s purpose for a while there. Perhaps I just changed direction. She thrust the debilitating thoughts from her mind. It was neither the time nor the place for soul-searching. Gareth, when you’ve finished up at the ship, I want you to meet me in the lab.

  CHAPTER 21

  Wounded Feeling

  Hickory inserted the ID into the secure access terminal and punched in the ten-digit code she’d memorized. The terminal had a dual purpose, assessing both authorized Bikashi workers and their Lakedweller aides. Typically, the humans would be accompanied by their masters, but not always, sometimes being called to work on a project while`e the Bikashi slept. The security code supplied by Sikona included an algorithm indicating she was permitted to enter without her master on this day.

  The door slid open and she glanced at Gareth. “We need to work fast, and don’t forget, the Warlord has this room under surveillance, so act as though we have every right to be here.” Hickory hoped he was too busy with the escaped Yatzis to be watching.

  Anyar, what’s your status? She checked in.

  <>

  Hickory’s heart sank. She’d hoped, stupidly perhaps, the Yatzi’s would escape relatively unscathed. Thank you, Anyar. Your part in this is over. Gareth and I are inside the science lab, and Jess is transporting the remaining humans to their village.

  <>

  Goodbye, and good luck, Anyar. You have been a good friend. She waited, but there was no response.

  “Anyar? How is she?” said Gareth.

  “Fighting to the last,” she said, turning her head from him so he would not see the tears roll down her cheek. She wiped her eyes on a sleeve. This was no time for sentiment. She had a job to do.

  “Whereabouts is the casket?” Said Gareth.

  She looked around the laboratory, re-orienting herself to what she’d seen on the Warlord’s terminal. Inside a glass cage in the middle of the room, a transparent container lay on a workbench, connected by a multitude of cables to a bank of computers. Hickory guessed most—if not all—would be used to monitor temperature, humidity and an array of other indicators related to the container’s contents. She strode over to the glass wall and gazed inside. Finally, I will learn the truth of it. She felt overwhelmed by the solemnity of the occasion. Her shoulders shook. Inside the room, the casket seemed to hum with life, glowing golden.

  “Gareth, open the cage for me, will you?”

  He scratched the back of his neck and looked at her, then walked to the computer control station. “Bikashi isn’t the easiest writing to understand, but my SIM is translating. Here we go.” He punched a few keys. “I have a feeling that’s the easy bit,” he said as the door slid open.

  Minute particles of dust swirled inside the golden pod, then settled like snowflakes. Shadows played across the pod’s luminous surface, seemingly moving of their own accord, precursors to some momentous event, perhaps. “I can sense ancient knowledge here, but there is harshness also.” She spoke as though to herself, then heard the voice of Kar.

  This is the bane of the ancients, conceived many eons ago for a worthy purpose but contaminated by some who wished to use it for their own selfish ends. It is indeed harsh, and terrible, and treacherous, and many other things. But the Sword’s nature is tempered by those who wield it.

  Kar? Hickory staggered and almost fell, but only Gareth stood by her side.

  #

  “You are here at last, Hickory Lace.” The Bikashi sounded gleeful. He stood six and a half feet tall, short for a Bikashi, with his thick neck and shoulders bent forward. He advanced toward the glass cage, flanked by six guards.

  Hickory noticed a slight limp. Sabrina described Jolphyr to a T.

  “I have waited long for your arrival,” he said. “I felt sure you would give up and return to your safe bed on Earth, but your resilience has surprised me.”

  “Who…” said Gareth, reaching for his sword.

  “This is Jolphyr, Sikona’s false master, traitor to the Warlord.” Hickory’s lip curled, and her eyes flashed.

  Jolphyr’s eyes became pure circles. He was laughing at her. “I was ever true to Sikona. I would have honored our agreement if he had survived to deliver you into my hands. Alas, it was not to be. He did everything I asked for, even joining the despicable Dark Suns and placing himself under the eyes of your hypocritical Galactic Alliance.” His voice turned cold. “But enough of Sikona, you will open this golden treasure chest and give me the Sword.”

  “And how would I do that, even if I wanted to?” She could sense Gareth preparing to charge and warned him to wait. There are too many. We need to surprise them.

  Jolphyr’s sharp eyes picked up the communication between them even if he didn’t himself hear it. “Ah, the infamous comms technology. I should have known you would carry the agency implants. Interesting.”

  Now, said Hickory. She and Gareth leaped into action. Hickory ran at the nearest guard and tackled him to the ground. They both wrestled for the laser pistol in his belt. She tugged it free and fired into his stomach. The Bikashi fell back, blood bubbling from his mouth.

  A second guard brought his laser pistol to bear, but Jolphyr shouted at him, “No! Put away your pistols. Kill the boy if you will, but the human female must live. She is the only one who can open the casket.”

  Hickory picked up the sword from the body of the dead Bikashi and threw it to Gareth. His opponent hesitated, and Gareth slashed at him. The soldier screamed in pain and fell to the ground clutching his arm.

  Hickory swung in a semi-circle to face the two guards who had moved behind her. Their knives were out, and they didn’t hesitate. They leaped forward, aiming for her midriff. She turned and ran, pulling her Fairbairn-Sykes fighting k
nife free from its sheath. The eleven-inch blade had been favored by the O.S.S. and British Commandos during World War Two, and she’d had it specially sharpened so she could use it to slash at an enemy. The two Bikashi cornered her against the wall, and she pointed the F.S. first at one, then the other. “If I die here, I’ll take at least one of you with me.”

  Jolphyr shouted. “Enough! Put up your weapon, or I will kill the boy.”

  Gareth was on his knees, his face screwed up in pain. Jolphyr grasped his hair with one hand and held a knife to his throat with the other. “Do as I say.” He pressed the blade against Gareth’s neck, opening a small cut.

  Hickory threw down her F.S. and raised her hands.

  “Ha! It is as Sikona said. You have become weak, Earthling. You grieve for something you cannot have, and it has robbed you of your strength. A Bikashi would have let the boy die.” He nodded to a guard, who knocked her on the temple with the butt of his knife.

  #

  Hickory’s head ached, and she opened her eyes blearily. She tried to focus on Jolphyr, but her mind was in turmoil. Why had she surrendered? Retrieving the Sword was a critical part of her mission, more so than the life of any one person, even a friend like Gareth. People had died to get her to this point, what was one more? Without the Sword, she would be helpless to prevent Politburo’s attempted takeover of the Galactic Alliance. And there was something more. Kar had spoken to her. She was not delusional. Her years on Prosperine flashed through her mind. She’d learned a lot from the alien known to his followers as the Teacher. She’d found strength in his wisdom, and his friendship and trust had carried her through many tough times.

  The rebel leader Sequana had tortured her to the point where she’d almost lost her mind and her will to live, but the Teacher had brought her back, not through some magic but through kindness and love.

  The Riv-Amok had terrified her, yet the Teacher had taught her how to bend the telepathic monster to her will. Until then, fear and rage had been the catalysts to release her telepathic gift, but Kar had shown her a more powerful stimulant, coaxing, persuading and encouraging the beast through affinity and empathy with its pain.

  Her arch enemy, the Bikashi commander Vogel held the Sword of Connat for a time, and it made him immensely strong. If it hadn’t been for the Teacher’s intervention, she would have died at his hands. Vogel had been stranded on a radioactive island for two years, and his strength was depleted before he found the Sword. What might he have achieved if it had come to him when he was at his physical peak? But then, the Sword betrayed him in the end.

  Jolphyr thought her weak. That her grief had robbed her of her strength. Had she relied on Kar to bolster her weakness? She couldn’t be honest with herself and say they’d had a partnership. A partnership required both people to contribute equally to their relationship.

  The revelation was a bolt from the blue. We never had a relationship, not in the human sense. What she’d felt for him was never built on passion, but on love at a spiritual level, a love woven into the fabric of the universe, and therefore at the center of her own being. This was the source of her feeling of deep connectedness with the Teacher.

  She’d been mourning for something that had never existed. Jolphyr was right, she’d imagined a future that could never be. She and Kar had been friends, and it was horrible to think of that spark having been extinguished. He’d been an amazing person and achieved more in his life, and in his death, than ninety-nine percent of the universe. Instead of filling her mind with regret for the past, she should celebrate her luck at having met him and having experienced his greatness firsthand. What she needed to do now was follow his example. She’d never be him, nor come close to being as good as he was, but she could try. She could change.

  #

  Jolphyr’s face loomed over her, grinning.

  She struggled to rise. “That’s where the difference between us lies, Jolphyr. Most humans have learned people are more important than things. We honor the miracle of life and not only human life. To humans, people are not disposable assets.”

  The Directorate laughed. “Spare me your moral superiority. When I hold the Sword, I will achieve greatness for the Bikashi nation.”

  “You will fail. In the end, the Sword will overcome you, just as it did Vogel.” She held her head, trying to clear the pain. She felt as though she would be sick and just managed to hold it down

  “Enough of this. Open the casket.”

  Don’t do it. He’ll kill us anyway. Gareth struggled in Jolphyr’s grasp, but the knife cut deeper.

  Hickory grasped her great grandmother’s emerald encrusted crucifix tightly in her hand. A drop of blood fell innocently onto the casket. She focused her attention and searched deep inside herself to release her empathic power.

  An odor of electrical energy crackled in her nostrils. Kar’s teachings flooded her memory, and she brought forth the gift that had lain dormant for nearly two years until she’d met Anyar. The wounded feelings she’d borne as she’d struggled for meaning in her life flashed through her mind. She recalled a vision she’d experienced in her mid-teens and long since forgotten. It had shown her what her life could be, what in fact it was supposed to be—an outpouring of love in the service of God and her fellow man. She hadn’t appreciated its significance at that young age because she didn’t have the life experience or maturity necessary to breathe life into this perfect picture. Now she understood.

  Emotion flooded the neural pathways of her brain with a massive positive charge, and her head tilted backward. It was as though love streamed from her eyes, radiating from the spirit within her, absorbing all the desolation she’d ever known and drowning it in layers of peace.

  Hickory sank to her knees, rested her hands on the shining capsule, and pressed her head to its surface. She opened her mind and reached out, searching for any sentient presence.

  The capsule pulsated, imitating a beating heart, but she knew even without opening it there was nothing mortal inside. The knowledge set her free. The capsule was a machine that preserved another machine, the Sword. She felt her hands become warm as her emotional energy reached a crescendo and transferred from herself to the casket.

  She stood, and the top of the casket vanished without a sound.

  CHAPTER 22

  Magic Trick

  Jolphyr pushed his knife into his belt and stretched his hand towards the open casket. Beads of perspiration stood out on the Bikashi’s sloping forehead. “Here lies the doom of Vogel, the greatest commander of the Bikashi military. He said this Sword was a weapon of great power, handed down from ruler to ruler through the ages. A strong leader could wield the weapon and bend it to his will.” He hesitated. “I am that leader. I will be invulnerable, and the Sword will take me to victory over Auriga’s enemies.”

  Hickory inclined her head. “Perhaps.”

  “I have heard Vogel also professed this Sword would enable interstellar travel faster by far than any species currently possess. Do you believe this to be true, Hickory Lace?”

  She shrugged. “The Sword of Connat gives of itself according to the strength and needs of the one who wields it. Few are mighty enough to bring forth the intense energy needed to harness the Sword. Sequana wasn’t, neither was Vogel. Only Connat herself and the Teacher were capable. You must take it up to see.”

  The Directorate leaned over the box to peer inside. His mouth opened and a strangled sound emerged. “It is empty. There is nothing here, nothing.” He staggered backward.

  Now, Gareth!

  The boy sprang toward his guards. They made to grab him, but he squirmed free and swung a fist at the face of the nearest.

  Hickory rushed at Jolphyr and tumbled him to the ground. He flexed his torso and threw her off. Both leaped to their feet, facing each other, arms outstretched. Jolphyr glanced at the casket. “It’s not there, Earth woman. There is no Sword.” He shook his head. “Did you know? Why come here then?”

  “Did you not hear me say the Sword rev
eals its power to those who are strong enough to use it?” Hickory edged toward the casket.

  “I have the strength, why then can I not see it?” Jolphyr snorted, swaying from side to side.

  Hickory sensed his doubt and taunted him. “You will never have the Sword, Bikashi. It spurns you.”

  He gestured with his knife for her to move away. His eyes searched the casket from top to bottom. “What do you see that I cannot?”

  Hickory waited until the Bikashi turned to peer once more into the casket, then jumped onto his back. She wrapped an arm around his neck and squeezed, attempting to cut off his supply of air. It was like trying to crush rock because the Directorate’s neck was so thick and strong.

  Jolphyr attempted to grab Hickory by the hair, but she evaded his outstretched hand. The pair stumbled and fell against the side of the casket. It teetered on the flotation supports and crashed to the floor.

  Hickory glanced toward Gareth. He was hand to hand with the second Bikashi whose knife was pressed against Gareth’s chest.

  #

  “Put down your weapons, all of you.” The Warlord strode into the room. A troop of Bikashi soldiers armed with short-barreled energy rifles fanned out behind him.

  Jolphyr and Hickory separated. Jolphyr’s guards cast down their weapons and bent their heads. Only Gareth hesitated.

  “Shoot him.”

  Gareth threw his knife to the ground and stood rooted to the spot.

  The Warlord wore body armor inlaid with gold scrolls, covering his torso, arms, and legs. The helm on his head boasted three twisting horns taken from the skull of an Aluvian antelope. He held an ax in one hand and a lance in the other. His steely eyes took in the group then fell to the open capsule.

  Jolphyr’s head was almost to his knees as he spoke. “My master, I am pleased you have come. I was hoping to bring you the sword of Connat, but alas my plan has failed. Nevertheless, I do have a gift for you. These are Earthling spies come to infiltrate the palace and—”