The Sorrow Anthology

by Helen Allan

  “Oh,” the girl smiled, her face suddenly softening, “that is the Captain, he is our high commander and a very important Nãga, but we are not supposed to talk about that. Isn’t he gorgeous?”

  “By your standards, I’m sure he is very attractive,” Sorrow laughed, as much as at the girl’s words as at the strange conversation she was having.

  “Oh no, by any standards,” the girls said earnestly, “he is perfect – I mean, did you smell him?”

  “No,” Sorrow shook her head, ruefully, “I can’t say that I did smell your captain, but I’m sure next time I will rectify that.”

  “Oh do,” the girl said, her eyes wide.

  “Listen,” Sorrow said, placing the empty flask back on the floor where the girl had initially placed it, “when I first landed on this planet I had a pack with me, it had clothes, things from my homeworld, books. I wonder if you know what happened to it. It was taken, I think, by the two cadets that brought me down here.”

  “Oh yes,” the girl said, “the captain has your bag.”

  “Well,” Sorrow smiled, “could you tell your captain that I want my bag, and I want to see the leaders of your people – and I’m not going to wait much longer to get what I want.”

  “Will you escape?” the girl said, suddenly breathless with, if Sorrow wasn’t mistaken, excitement.

  “I might.”

  “Ooooh,” she shuddered and stepped back through the door, “I’ll tell him.”

  “Good girl,” Sorrow said, as the door closed.

  She waited, but didn’t hear the click of the lock and shook her head. Rising, she opened the door but didn’t leave the room, just sat back down to wait. If these Nãga couldn’t see that she was telling the truth by having the opportunity to escape, but not taking it, then they were perhaps a very, very stupid race and the cadets were just indicative of the whole.

  ‘Imagine that,’ she thought, ‘imagine if the whole race were friendly, naive, stupid lizard-people. Would I be doing the right thing to involve them in a war? A war that otherwise might not touch them, safe and hidden as they are beneath the surface of this world?’

  She frowned as she thought through her options. But what had Judge said? Still a couple of hundred thousand troops to contend with, and his supporters just a few hundred at most. No, the only way to defeat the Gharial, now that their numbers were as low as they had ever been, was to have a significant force behind them. If the Nãga had a force, that could swing the tide of the battle. There might be no need to nuke the whole world – many would die, yes, but more would be saved.

  Her thoughts were interrupted some thirty minutes later when she heard heavy steps in the corridor, and two faces appeared at the door.

  “You might want to re-think your security measures,” she said dryly to the captain as he leaned on the doorjamb and considered her, the guard hopping from foot to foot behind him, her eyes wide.

  “Perhaps,” he drawled, “or perhaps I did not seek to have you guarded particularly well.”

  “This was a test?” Sorrow frowned.

  The corners of his lips turned up slightly, but he did not answer.

  “I need to see your leaders,” she said, letting out a deep breath, “there is a war coming.”

  “There has been a war on this planet for thousands of years,” he said, now suddenly serious, “we are untouched by the violence on the surface of this once beautiful world.”

  “Beautiful?” Sorrow shook her head, “you mean it wasn’t always a desert?”

  “You have much to learn,” he said gently, “but come now, we will eat, you will tell me what you do know, and I will decide how to proceed from there.”

  Sorrow nodded and rose.

  As she left the room and followed the captain, the girl fell into step beside her.

  “Did you smell him?” she whispered.

  “No,” Sorrow laughed.

  9

  The subterranean world of the Nãga was like nothing Sorrow could even have imagined. It was a planet, inside a planet – a world so alien and different from what lay hundreds, maybe thousands of kilometres above, that even the wildest of imaginations could not have dreamt it up.

  She swallowed hard as the lift opened and she and half a dozen cadets were spilled out onto the busy main street of a what appeared to be a small, rural town in the midst of a market day.

  Sorrow sniffed and recoiled at some of the smells from the stalls they passed as Captain Micah led her and his cadets down the road towards the barracks. Much of the produce looked like food in various forms, but there were also clothes, shoes, hats, animals of all types and sizes in cages and in various stages of being killed and cooked.

  Beyond the township were rolling hills interspersed with trees, shrubs, crops and paddocks of livestock, the like of which Sorrow had never seen.

  “You have a world, within a world,” she said, shaking her head, “just as you said.”

  “Yes,” the captain said, keeping his eye on the way ahead and guiding them through the crowds.

  “How do you power this world – it looks like sunlight, but I know it can’t be that?”

  “Algal fluorescence,” he said, as though this was something Sorrow would know about, something as obvious as saying ‘coal-fired power stations’ on Earth. She tucked this information away for a quiet time when she could ask him more.

  “Your people are not vegetarian?” she frowned, trying to block her nose with her hand to stifle some of the smells that were now assaulting her nostrils.

  “Some are, some aren’t,” he shrugged.

  Sorrow looked around in wonder at the world she now stood in.

  “Was this always here?” she whispered aloud.

  “What was that?”

  “I was just wondering if this world always existed here, if your kind never used the surface.”

  “The surface is a place of interest to explore, a place to keep a watch on, lest creatures arrive that might disrupt our way of life, but it has not been inhabited by my kind for thousands of years.”

  “Is this because of the invasion of the gods?”

  “No,” he laughed gently, “it is because we blew the shit out of it with weapons we misunderstood and destroyed all life above the ground.”

  “Oh,” Sorrow smirked, thinking of Earth and its arms race, “I know of another planet with that potential.”

  ‘And your world might once again suffer this if I cannot convince your leaders to fight.’

  Micah nodded as though he was only half-listening to her questions, and continued to lead her to the barracks.

  As they arrived, she could see, quite plainly, that this was an army of weekend warriors, no more. These people were not primed for war or prepared for any kind of attack. They were obviously mostly cadets, like those she had already encountered, and their trainers.

  “Captain,” a female soldier saluted as he walked through the double doors of a large building, Sorrow in tow, the cadets having branched off to a range of smaller buildings.

  “Lieutenant,” Micah smiled, nodding to the soldier, “have you arranged the meeting, as I requested?”

  “I tried,” she said, shaking her head, “can we speak in private?”

  Micah nodded and indicated to Sorrow to take a seat on some nearby benches.

  Not having any reason to do anything else, she did as she was asked and sat to wait.

  “And here it is.”

  Looking up she saw the cadets she called Heckle and Jeckle in the doorway, a swathe of young faces peering in behind them, too scared, obviously, to enter the room.

  “Wow, you caught it?”

  “Sure did,” Jeckle laughed, “we would have shot it too, but orders are orders,” he said the last in a deep, serious voice that had the others looking to him in awe.

  Sorrow smirked.

  “Hello,” she said, rising and walking towards the door.

  As one the crowd of faces disappeared amid squeaks and squeals as they raced ac
ross the open courtyard the way they had come, leaving Heckle and Jeckle shaking their heads at her.

  “Did you have to go and do that?” Jeckle asked, “we were going to tell them the whole story.”

  “I’m sorry to ruin your exaggerated account of how you captured me,” Sorrow snorted, “I tell you what, if you give me a weapon we can spar in the courtyard, and you can show them your prowess.”

  “Nah, we’re fine,” Heckle said, plucking at Jeckle’s uniform for him to step back.

  “Are you sure?” Sorrow whispered, “I mean, any time you want to violently capture me, I’d be more than willing to give you a little lesson in subduing an alien.”

  As she said this, she narrowed her eyes ominously and bared her teeth.

  “Shit on shit,” Jeckle gasped as both cadets backed out hastily, their eyes wider than usual. Sorrow’s fake evil laughter followed them as they turned tail and ran towards their cadet companions.

  “They will never live that down,” Micah sighed as he came to stand beside her.

  Sorrow shook her head.

  “They were lucky it was only me jumping through. I could have been dangerous. It isn’t smart to have children guarding a portal.”

  “Nothing had come through in years,” he frowned, considering her words, “the cadets were rostered on for two days above ground practice each month, just to acclimatise them a little to the lack of oxygen and allow them to experience the upper world. If I had known the portal was active, I would never have allowed any upper world forays.”

  “So, they are not actually guarding the portal?”

  “No,” he laughed, “they were just playing around up there experiencing life above ground. Their orders were to run if they saw anything bigger than a bug.”

  “It sounds like what we do under the sea,” Sorrow said, shaking her head, “teach our children to swim, to dive. But at least we know there are sharks around.”

  “We know there are dangerous creatures above ground,” he said, his tone serious. “But we have thousands of years of separation from that world – and we need have no fear that we will be discovered here.”

  “How can you be so sure?” Sorrow frowned, “I could have squeezed those two kids, and they would have revealed anything and everything about your kind.”

  “Perhaps,” he shook his head, “but would you really have believed an underground world lay beneath the desert sands? That millions of our kind exist here day in and day out, going about our own lives?”

  “I’ve seen stranger things,” Sorrow said gently, “now, the meeting with your army leaders?”

  “I’m afraid there isn’t going to be one,” he said quietly, “they have told me you have nothing they need to hear. They are content to know that you do not appear dangerous and have left you in my charge, but they do not wish to hear what you have to say.”

  “But,” Sorrow frowned, “we need help. We don’t have the numbers…I’ve explained everything to you.”

  “Your war is not our war,” he said firmly, “If it were possible I would wish you well in your fight, or your bomb, and let you be on your way. But now you are here; you must stay.”

  “You mean, I’m your prisoner?”

  “You have been left to my discretion,” he said, “you can see it as prisoner, or as guest. I think you will be happier in the long run if you consider it the latter.”

  “I can’t stay,” Sorrow said, meeting his gaze, “I will escape.”

  “Why don’t we just say you are my guest for the time being,” he said gently, “I would like to know more about the world from which you originate. I’m sure you can spare a few weeks to learn about mine.”

  Sorrow watched his lips as he spoke, before once again meeting his eyes. They were, she decided, sensual. Perhaps given time, she would be able to convince him of the importance of her mission, change the mind of someone in power. She had a little time up her sleeve before the portals opened, Judgment would not act before then.

  “Alright, I will be your guest, for the time being.”

  “So, you are saying,” Micah laughed as they headed towards their transportation, “that knock-knock jokes are actually considered funny on Earth.”

  “No,” Sorrow groaned and shook her head, “but when I told the cadets some I never expected them to become so entranced by them. If I hear another one, I swear, I will knock-knock my head on that wall.”

  He laughed loudly, a deep, rich laugh that echoed through the small vehicle they had just entered. It was a laugh Sorrow looked forward to hearing each day since she and the captain had become friends.

  “So, this city we are heading to,” she said as she strapped on her seat belt, “what is its estimated population?”

  “About 40 million,” he said shrugging.

  “Jesus,” Sorrow frowned, “that is amazing. So, your population overall?”

  “Billions, Sorrow, who keeps count?”

  “And the city we are heading to is the capital of this ‘country’ for want of a better word?”

  “I see where you are struggling,” he frowned, “your Earth countries, according to the map you drew for me, are surrounded and separated by seas. We have no such delineation. We have rivers, yes, mountain ranges, yes, but the borders between our lands were long ago dissolved. Like I said to you earlier, our armed forces are for peacekeeping, for natural disaster response, not for war. We have had no wars between the races of our kind for thousands of years. We train in weaponry and defence and martial arts, but only as a precaution and as a skill-set that is deemed worthy of not being lost. You could, if you like, imagine our armed force is like your police force on Earth or an adjunct to such.”

  Sorrow smiled and shook her head.

  “So, despite all your regional differences and racial differences, you live in harmony?”

  “In the main. I mean there are murders, thefts; crimes that most civilisations would, I imagine, deal with – but large-scale fighting? No.”

  Sorrow shook her head. She had seen several types of Nãga since settling into the cadet training barracks a month prior; small, dark-skinned Nãga, taller pale green Nãga, and Micah and the majority of the cadets, green and gold.

  “But there are hundreds of different races,” she frowned, “how can you all live so harmoniously? On Earth, our countries still fight over land, resources, religion.”

  “We had our wars,” he shrugged, “we learned from our history. Violence, bloodshed, it does nothing to progress our kind. Diplomacy, acceptance and negotiation are key.”

  “If only my own race was as advanced as yours,” Sorrow murmured, leaning her head back against the headrest as the vehicle raced along the tracks at incredible speed, the landscape beyond a mere blur. She could see why they did not want to participate in a war above ground – even if Judgment did nuke the planet, it would have no effect on them. The knowledge helped her sleep at night, but not much, she still needed to save the others above this world who had been captured and enslaved by the gods.

  “So where will I be staying when we arrive in the city?” she asked now, turning to watch his profile as he concentrated on the track ahead.

  “With me.”

  “Do you have barracks there?”

  “No,” he laughed, “I am on leave now for one month. I will go back to my family home. You have been left in my charge; you will accompany me. Unless you are planning to escape this week,” he cast her a quick sidelong glance, but she could see his lips curve into a slight smirk.

  “Not this week,” she quipped.

  Truth be known she had not thought of escape at all in the past few weeks that she had spent with the cadets. She had found the young Nãga to be hilarious, charming, silly and fascinating – and their captain to be intriguing.

  Most days she had spent training with the cadets, teaching them hand-to-hand combat and talking to them about her world. Most evenings she spent dining with the captain and talking to him, also, about their worlds. Less and less she ha
d focussed on the needs of the planet above, as she became settled in the world below. And of late, she saw far fewer differences between herself and the Nãga, and far more similarities, and, loathe as she was to admit it, the captain did smell good.

  She shook her head to dispel some of the more carnal paths her mind now traversed as she considered her travelling companion. He was smart, funny, handsome in his own way, learned and strong; everything that could and would melt the young hearts of the female cadets. And Sorrow was definitely, despite her assurances to the contrary, finding she was not immune to his charms.

  Watching his bare arms now, his muscles bulging in the dim light of the vehicle, she longed to rub her hand down his forearm and feel his skin. From the brief touches she had while wrestling with the cadets, she knew their skin, although entirely covered in scales, was smooth as silk, like the stomach of a snake, or the long, cool back of a skink. She wondered, briefly, how Micah’s stomach would feel pressed against her own, and shuddered, a little buzz of excitement rippling down her spine.

  Swallowing hard, she dragged her eyes from his body and back to the track and waited to see where they would be staying. Her room in the barracks had been rudimentary at best, as all army barracks were whatever world she had been on. She was hoping for at least a few creature comforts during Micah’s holiday because she knew her time was running out and soon, all jokes aside, she would have to knock-knock her way out of this subterranean world and back onto the surface.

  If only she could shake the suspicion that she belonged here, with him.

  10

  She watched him smile, bow and accept the invitation to dance, and smirked.

  All evening Micah had been performing his royal Nãga duties, dancing with eligible young women, discussing politics with men, bowing and nodding, smiling and shaking hands. And yet he had not forgotten she was there, meeting her eyes often, giving her a cheeky grin on more than one occasion, before continuing on.

  “He is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, and his smell…” she heard countless times as she sat at the table to the right of the ballroom floor and watched him work the room.