Dreams Manifest (The Depths of Memory Book 2)

by Candice Bundy

  "Thanks to you I'm feeling almost myself again." Bauleel smiled, but he was right--she was still well below her enhanced physical abilities.

  "That's wonderful. But you've been Matriarch Bauleel for as long as I've been at the Guild. How long has it been since you've used your Guardian training to kill a Terror?" Rilte asked.

  Bauleel had to consider that for a moment, it was long before her time spent serving as Matriarch for Raven's Call, wasn't it? "38 years, give or take a few months."

  "Most Az'Un don't live past 60, you know? What with the plague and the side effects of the treatments." Bauleel didn't reply. "Anyway, I'd say that 38 years might just qualify for being a wee bit out of practice. Don't you think?" Rilte asked.

  "Perhaps," Bauleel conceded.

  "Yes, and maybe you shouldn't be so hard on yourself for missing Terem's transformation? It's not like you've had to deal directly with Terrors for some time."

  "It's no excuse. I took an oath to protect all Az'Un from all forces threatening our existence. I failed." Terem finished playing ball and walked back into the stable, oblivious to their presence. Bauleel breathed a sigh of relief.

  "That's a solemn duty. How long ago did you take the oath?" Rilte asked.

  Bauleel pulled her eyes away from the Jonquin compound. Now she was faced with either honoring her promise to Rilte or, again, breaking her word. In all of her years, Bauleel hadn't bonded with anyone outside of her immediate family. Instead, she'd maintained a predetermined emotional distance from those around her. Somehow, after the trauma of Terem's attack and Rilte's subsequent aid, Bauleel had let him in past her walls.

  "Remind me, how long ago did humans settle Az'Unda?" Bauleel asked.

  Rilte's brow furrowed. "Six hundred and thirty some odd years?"

  "And the trip we took from the United Federated Territories? Do you remember how long that took?" Bauleel felt his disbelief mounting, seemingly in accord with her own anxiety.

  "The history books record it at two hundred and twenty-six years if I remember correctly."

  "You do," Bauleel confirmed. Beyond other members of the Core, she'd never discussed her past with anyone. Just add it to all of the other Core's rules she's broken over the previous two years. Considering aiding Kilawren's escape, this indiscretion would just be a footnote to the long list of transgressions they could hold over her head.

  "I'm not sure I'm following you," Rilte replied. "Because I'm tempted to think you're implying you took your oath and the Methuselah treatments before getting on the settlement ships, but that can't be ..."

  "Yeah, I know," Bauleel laughed. "That would make me, what, over eight hundred and fifty years old?"

  "Exactly, that's ridiculous," Rilte replied. "Especially since the Hegemony lists Methuselah drugs as banned substances. If they found out human settlers were using them ... they might go so far as to prohibit passage to our ships through their territories."

  "They might also decline our petition to be recognized as a sentient species," Bauleel continued.

  "Which is why the risk would be too great," Rilte said.

  Bauleel shrugged. "There are many risks in settling a new world. The risk in selecting a good crew to safeguard transport of tens of thousands of settlers in cold sleep. The risk of extended flight times due to hardships finding a suitable settlement location."

  "Those are known hazards," Rilte replied.

  "Yes, but imagine how difficult it would be to train a new crew mid-stream, and how much easier and safer it would be to maintain the same staff throughout the long journey."

  "That's a tremendous risk to take, assuming the Hegemony would never find out," Rilte said.

  "Granted, but the failure rate of Earth-built colonial settlement ships is historically about thirty percent. The Hegemony views our inability to expand successfully beyond our starting galaxy just one of humanity's many failures, and each ship lost is calculated in our overall success score. It's a simple risk/gain formula," Bauleel explained. "If Az'Unda cannot thrive, we fail, and if they find out humanity bent the rules to succeed, we also fail."

  "And I thought discussing Terem was depressing," Rilte said.

  Bauleel laughed mirthlessly. "You wanted to know where I got my Methuselah treatments. I got them off-world before boarding the original colonial ship bound for this sector."

  Rilte remained amazingly calm, given the revelation. "How many of the crew received these treatments?"

  "All one hundred and fifty," Bauleel replied. "But most of us died during the initial outbreak of the plague," Bauleel explained.

  "I remember from the history books, only a few of the crew survived, but all of the colonists revived up to that point perished. And you were there--you witnessed the tragedy first-hand."

  Bauleel nodded. "For some reason, those of us who'd used the Methuselah treatments were resistant to the plague. We got it, but it didn't have the same effects as it did on the colonists. Our bodies kept fighting it, and we reached a point of balance." Balance; yeah that's the word for it. Explaining the nuances of the gifts the plague had left the crew wasn't something she was willing to divulge. "But the colonists were not so lucky. They went mad, becoming Terrors. They killed each other and killed many of the crew. Then they died from the illness, and those of us left began researching ways to control the virus."

  "Wouldn't it have been easier to pick another location?" he asked.

  "It wasn't an option. We'd already repurposed critical ship components for structures on the surface. Remember, we'd been here for nearly eight years when the plague hit. Moving on would have meant losing those resources and leaving behind a significant portion of the colonists who were still in stasis, waiting to be awakened when food production levels could support them. We had to find a way to make it work."

  "What are the rest of the crew doing now?" Rilte asked.

  "What we've been doing since we got here; helping build a human society while seeking a way to overcome the plague. We formed the Technician's Guild and sent all of the best and brightest to study there, in hopes that a cure could be found."

  "All in secret," Rilte said. "From the Az'Un and the Hegemony."

  "It had to be that way."

  "How many of the original crew are left?" Rilte asked.

  "Just over two dozen, I'm afraid. Some were killed facing Terrors, some in tragic accidents. Like you said, we aren't immortal--we just don't age at the normal human rate," Bauleel explained.

  Rilte rolled over onto his back, looking up at the sun filtered through the tree's leaves. "I kept trying to come up with a way some colonists or the Matriarchs might be allowed off-world access for the Methuselah treatments, but with the quarantine, that explanation didn't make sense. But this ... I never imagined."

  "No one has. The history books record how a few colonists survived and started over, but their names aren't listed."

  "It's quite the tale," Rilte said, gazing at her awestruck.

  "It's a story you can't ever repeat." Why did she entrust this knowledge with him? Perhaps because he'd saved her life at great risk to his own, but she suspected that had only opened the door to deepening the emotions between them.

  "I won't. You have my word on it." He paused, his expression unguarded, his eyes intently holding her gaze, and she believed him with absolute certainty. "I'm amazed you shared this with me. I'm pretty sure the rest of your crewmates won't like what you've done."

  "I seem to be taking a lot of risks lately," she said. "Especially when it comes to my crewmates."

  "After all this time, why now?" His unspoken 'why me' begged to be answered.

  "I guess I lost the faith. We're no closer to a cure for the plague. We find a new treatment that kills it and then it mutates into something even more deadly, like Terem. It's a battle we're bound to lose."

  "Are you the only one who feels this way?" he asked, expression incredulous.

  "Everyone is frustrated," she explained, more surprised than Rilte over her confession.<
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  "That's to be expected, isn't it?" His curiosity, evident in the tension of his body, the pitch of his voice, and the sharp scent of his emotions, reminded Bauleel of how much she'd revealed in the conversation.

  "Yes, indeed." Bauleel wanted to explain about Kilawren, and how her faith in the Core's mission had eroded steadily since they'd sentenced her sister to death, but she'd revealed enough already without putting her sister at further potential risk.

  "It feels like there's more on your mind?" Rilte asked.

  Bauleel smiled. "There is. I can't tell you how nice it is to have someone new to talk to after all these years."

  "I'm glad you trust me," he replied. "And I'll keep listening all day. It'll keep us busy while we wait, after all."

  "Thanks, but I'd better not say too much more about my crewmates. I'd be in big trouble if they found out I'd told you all of this."

  "I told you, I'll keep your secret," Rilte replied.

  "I know you will, but they have ways."

  "Fair enough," he said. Rilte laughed and shook his head.

  "What?" she asked.

  "I can't get over how good you look, considering you're an old lady."

  Bauleel frowned. "Yeah, and this old lady can still kick your ass."

  Rilte laughed again. "I'm sorry, Bauleel, you don't scare me."

  Bauleel forced a smile, profoundly touched over his surprising yet genuine sentiment. "Yeah, that's what I like about you." Her attraction to Rilte blossomed every time he displayed his trust and utter lack of fear. Rilte smiled back, and the authentic warmth of his reaction disarmed Bauleel, who had lived for years surviving on the fear of others.

  Chapter 17

  A thousand icy blades drove into Rai's flesh as her body smashed into the cold, dark ocean. She'd expected her existence to blackout on impact with the water, but death refused to live up to her expectations. Consciousness lingered by a thread as she plunged downward, the inky depths obliterating all remnants of moonlight and starlight. Surrounded by darkness, Rai breathed in salt water, then coughed, expelling all air from her lungs.

  Through the crushing pressure of suffocation Rai feebly fought to breathe, which only served to flush more cold water through her body. If only I had gills like a fish--she thought to herself--then I wouldn't have to drown like this. Suddenly fresh pain cut through both sides of her neck like a knife. Although Rai couldn't see what caused the gashes with her eyes, her hands discovered identical semi-circular flaps of flesh which hung slightly separate from the skin. With her right hand, she explored the depth of the cut, bringing on a new coughing fit. The pressure forced water through the openings in her neck--bringing an instant sense of relief.

  Gills? Rai breathed in more water, and then again and again and was rewarded with the oxygen she could now pull from the water. The process was harder than breathing, but it beat drowning. No longer suffocating, Rai noticed she wasn't moving upwards or downwards, but instead floating with neutral buoyancy along an underwater current. She also noticed that the effects of the faown had faded--either from the shock of the impact, being exposed to the chilly water, or breathing the water, she didn't know--but her thoughts were once again clear.

  How did I do that? She touched her neck again, feeling the salt water forced out through the gills. Was this yet another unusual ability which had always been there but, because of her amnesia, she couldn't remember? If only Graeber hadn't been so stubborn, she would know!

  Then Rai remembered the looks of horror on the faces of the Durmah and Graeber--Somnu, however, had looked smug--when she leaped over the parapet wall. Most likely they all thought her dead, and although Rai regretted the pain this would cause Ponar, she didn't regret being free from all of them. Dying had brought her the one thing Rai wanted, freedom. She hadn't expected to survive but was glad of the opportunity it provided.

  But where would she go now? Perhaps she could return to the underground home she'd discovered in Harper's Sorrow, the one Graeber said she'd lived at for a while. Surely she'd find more evidence of her past, especially as she wouldn't have Graeber there to prevent her from finding out.

  Assuming, of course, that he also believed her dead. Rai thought he not only knew of her secret talents but also shared them. He'd have to at least suspect that she might still be alive. She'd witnessed his tracking skills, and if Graeber wanted to find her Rai had no doubt he'd be able to do so. Would he seek to keep her from her past now that the Durmah thought she was dead? She had no way of knowing.

  An odd fuzzy sensation had been slowly growing through Rai, and it was beginning to make the back of her head and neck itch. Could it be a side-effect of using the gills or the remains of the faown still in her system? It didn't feel like the drowsy medicinal but instead made her feel focused and aware. Rai began to notice--no, feel--fish and other sea creatures swimming around her despite the enveloping darkness. She remembered hazily reading books filled with stories of sea monsters and warnings not to venture too far from shore. But Rai was fearless, feeling connected to the ocean itself as if it was merely an extension of her own being.

  Come.

  Rai felt the command and couldn't help but respond. She began swimming downward, out of the current she was traveling in and into deeper waters. Her skin tingled as a state of blissful peace permeated her mind.

  Come.

  The command came again, louder this time. Rai willed webbing to grow between her fingers and toes and then swam faster. The voice reminded her of the way the Juggernaut had spoken with her, except this was compelling. A blue glow became visible across the landscape, faint at first, but ever more luminous as she approached. The shape reminded her of the lake in Harper's Sorrow, but here it was bordered by limestone cliffs and coral walls.

  Here.

  Rai's eyes were drawn to a dark spot near the center of the shimmering azure lake. A single black stone column only a few feet wide ran from the depths of the ocean floor to a point high above the lake, gleaming eerily in the reflected light. Rai swam to it, keeping well above the churning waters below. The surface of the column looked almost fluid, but Rai couldn't tell if that was an optical illusion from the bioluminescent light below.

  Join.

  Panic pounded through her veins as her hands involuntarily reached out and touched the column. The surface was hard, smooth, and unexpectedly warm. White and blue pinpoint lights began flashing up and down its entire length. Rai was terrified, yet mesmerized under its blissful spell. What had she discovered?

  An electrifying current coursed through her body as visions of her past flashed through her mind. Muscular seizures wracked her frame as she relived every moment since she'd awakened in the crèche in Raven's Call, yet her hands remained fixed to the column. The process finished with Rai reliving her fall from the outpost at Jeweled Cove into the ocean.

  Incomplete archival.

  "It's called amnesia," Rai replied in her mind.

  The glowing miasma below began to roll and move upward like an amoeba. Rai pulled violently in a futile attempt to release her hands. The waves of pleasure subsided, replaced by the sensation that every molecule within her was being examined.

  Non-native species / Alive / Not of Vidaaquar / Provide origin point.

  "That's right. I'm a human colonist, one of many here. We came in a ship from Calypso VII a long time ago." Rai had no idea if that would make sense, yet felt compelled to answer the question.

  Provide origin point.

  "Oh, you mean like where my species originated? That'd be Earth."

  No / Provide a point of origin on Vidaaq.

  "Oh! You mean where the human colonists landed on this planet?" Rai asked. There was no response, so she continued. "It was somewhere up north, but the city was destroyed in the first plague outbreak. No one even lives up there anymore. Eventually, we built towns in the lowlands along the shore."

  Need location of the point of origin.

  "I don't know," Rai replied.

  More i
mages flashed through her mind, remnants of memories before her awakening in Raven's Call. Pictures of abandoned buildings lining dust-covered streets. Images of Graeber and a woman, both looking upset and distraught as they all flew in the air on some sort of craft Rai didn't recognize. They stood on the shore at Jeweled Cove, Graeber bidding the woman good luck. 'Don't forget to keep her drugged, and she won't remember a thing. I'll return this to Sebaiya for safe keeping...'

  Sebaiya. The word rung like a bell in her mind as images of the town cycled like a picture book. Both Rai and the device knew its location and layout, pulled from the reconstructed memories.

  Sebaiya / Origin point of the invading species. Rai detected a note of satisfaction in its tone.

  "We're colonists, not invaders. We are the human stewards of Az'Unda, working to develop a balance with life on this planet."

  I am the only steward of Vidaaq / I am Vidaaquar / Constituents in your bloodstream deny my full stewardship / Species which do not conform to the designated guidelines must be destroyed for the health of Vidaaq.

  "Wait! You control the plague? The Terrors? But humans aren't a threat to Az'Unda! We're protecting ourselves from getting sick!"

  Arguing with the device was useless. The blue glow flowed up and enveloped Rai, obliterating all thought in madness.

  Blocking constituents will be cleansed / You will be remade a suitable vessel of Vidaaq / Seek the origin point of contamination / Destroy.

  Rai screamed as millions of tiny organisms passed through her skin and into her muscles and organs, intent on transforming her, cell by cell, into the being known as Vidaaquar.

  Chapter 18

  Matriarch Natre pressed her hand to the keypad marked 'Storeroom #12' and then waited while the device displayed her full name and flashed green. The door lock cycled slowly, creaking from neglect. It wasn't often anyone came down into the bowels of the Temple's old supply corridors.

  Planned population growth hadn't happened, so the storerooms built to hold surplus goods had been emptied long ago and were never refilled. Storeroom #12 was different--it housed some electronic devices salvaged from the colony ship, including additional comm systems. Between the little traffic, door lock, and comms, it was the perfect secluded spot for the Core to congregate in Raven's Call.