Most of them seemed to halt what they were doing in order to stare as she was paraded, still naked, through the teeming throng. Mouths hung open in shock and widened eyes stared at her in amazement. The din and clamor of dozens of languages, as well as the murmur of daily life, all came grinding to a halt as she was carried down the long, open hallway. Silence grew in the great hall with her passing.
There was no ceiling overhead, offering an expansive view of a grand nebula; great winged clouds of orange gossamer curled across the blackness of space like flames spreading through the darkness. All of it was framed by tall, slender, spiral buildings that seemed to curl up to bracket the nebula, as though supporting it and framing it. It seemed as though the entirety of the grand city worshiped it. Behind the buildings framing the view were larger buildings still, reaching into the blackness of space. They all had a strange sort of sheen to them, seeming to cascade subtle shades of various color, glistening as though they were wet. It were as if everything around her had been designed to capture the view of the nebula above.
There were scattered windows in the sides of the slender buildings that towered around her, enormous skyscrapers that twisted their way into the sky. They were bridged with an uncountable number of spans, forming a web of delicate architecture and style throughout the buildings. More and more windows began to swirl open in them as she was paraded before the city, thousands of vacant eyes awakening to stare down at her curiously.
The hallway opened up into an even larger rotunda that was also without a ceiling. Amazed at the unobstructed view above her, it took a moment for her to realize they were in open space, with a self-contained atmosphere, and probably artificial gravity. It was the most breathtaking and awesome thing she had ever experienced in her life. When the table came to a halt, she was finally able to tear her eyes away from the brilliant spectacle above her.
Towering before her were five white cylindrical podiums, each adorned with a unique symbol that shimmered and shone with its own soft, rippling light. Behind each podium sat a different race of alien. They all wore the same silvery veil over their faces, with Vorcia sitting in the middle. The men all wore different colors of the same uniform, though some wore it better than the others. It was a crisp, clean style that was well cut. On their lapel was the same symbol as was on their podium.
On the far left was a fat, hairless, chubby humanoid with a pasty complexion and smooth skin that seemed to be overly moisturized. His uniform was garish, bright orange and red and green. It gave him the appearance of a rotund clown. His girth was substantial and he was by far the fattest of the five seated behind the podiums. He had two sets of arms, a longer, thicker set underneath a stubbier pair that sat where his shoulders should be. Both sets were pudgy beyond belief. He had four fat, flabby legs that didn’t look like they were of use at all. His solid black eyes regarded her coolly from behind lazily narrowed eyelids.
“Is this the great threat that so much of a deal has been made about?” he said in a thick, lethargic voice. His tongue flickered out to lick his pale, fat lips. The speed of the movement surprised her. “I could break her in no time.”
“We don’t need any of your filthy innuendo, Sothu. This is not one of your flesh auctions,” Vorcia said with disdain. She was wearing pale, golden robes that shimmered, trimmed with thick blue borders. Her lips twisted downward. “This is a very serious matter.” She turned her attention back to Rhylie. Sothu snorted and waved his hand dismissively.
“What do I care? The galaxy has hundreds of races,” he said as he cocked a disinterested smirk.
“Then please feel free to remove yourself from these proceedings,” Vorcia snapped. “We do not need you here to decide this matter.” Sothu grunted.
“You’d like that wouldn’t you, Vorcia? Why not just have me and my people removed from The Masters entirely?” he said sourly, his lips twisting into a grimace. “No, I think I’ll remain here and help preside over these proceedings. It is my duty. Besides…I rather enjoy the view.” He turned his eyes back to Rhylie. “She does look…delectable.” His tongue flickered again, like a hungry animal searching outside its burrow for some crumbs to stave off starvation.
“She is not your property, and never will be,” Vorcia said in a steely voice, her jaws clenched. Rhylie felt relieved. She stared up at Vorcia with wide, pleading eyes.
“What are we to do with her then, Vorcia?” the one between Sothu and Vorcia inquired.
This one was covered with a series of thin, shiny plates that gave him an insectile appearance. The plates were bright yellow, ringed with black, and his uniform mirrored that. He almost looks like a warning sign, she thought. He had no teeth, and within his mouth was another mouth, inset with razor-sharp mandibles that opened and closed as he spoke. His lips were the only human thing about him. His eyes were solid black, and he had no eyelids or hair covering him other than some fine, rigid bristles. Atop his head were two short antennae that quivered and swayed independently, as though they were seeking something. She stared at him in amazed horror; she could not take her eyes off of him for a long moment.
“I wish to see if humans can be rehabilitated, Potaan. We owe it to them and ourselves as a civilized society to pursue such an endeavor to the fullest extent of our capabilities,” Vorcia said. “If she will consent.”
“And if not?” asked Potaan. “What then?”
“Then I would be willing to provide a Chamber for her. There is no reason for us to be overly barbaric in our treatment of her,” Vorcia said, smiling beneath her veil.
“I would like to remind everyone that the studies we’ve conducted on humans have shown them to be a violent and undisciplined race,” the one immediately to the right of Vorcia interjected. His voice had a raspy sort of harmony to it. His uniform was a deep, blood-red peppered with blue and white accents. Instead of hair, his head was topped with a thick streak of white feathers with black quills. They were laid back, and well groomed. It took her a moment to realize that they were actually growing from his head, and not just some sort of fashion statement. The rest of his skin was mostly bare and had a lustrous golden-brown tone. He had a wide fringe of fine, black down growing from the back of his arms instead of hair. His eyes were wild and fierce, like an eagle’s, with a deep golden tone ringed with a soft brown. They looked cruel to Rhylie.
“A terrible tragedy, in my opinion,” said Vorcia. “They’ve never even been given an opportunity to-” She was cut off by the feathered one.
“An opportunity to commit genocide?” he said snarkily. The feathers on his head rustled slightly. Vorcia’s eyes narrowed.
“Do not ever cut me off like that again during a hearing, Riddai. Ever,” Vorcia said with a voice that was cold, sharp steel, all of its melodic undertones vanishing. Riddai seemed taken aback, but quickly recovered.
“They are dangerous!” he exclaimed, motioning to Rhylie as he kept his eyes on Vorcia. “They wage war against each other over nothing. They are barbaric and deviant by nature, too intelligent to be made into a slave race, yet too savage to be allowed to survive and infect our cultures and civilization with their bestial tendencies.” The feathers on his head flared forward as he spat the last line out with disgust. It was all Rhylie could do not to laugh at him. He looked as though he had some sort of stupid mohawk.
“You are the last person I need a lecture from on deviant behavior, Riddai,” she said, the anger in her voice subsiding. Riddai frowned darkly.
“I want nothing to do with this, Vorcia. I want an Extinction Decree carried out as soon as possible. We need to put a stop to this before they can spread further,” he uttered in a demanding tone. Rhylie could tell he was accustomed to people obeying him without question.
The fifth one raised his hand, and both of them went silent. After a long moment, he spoke.
“A lone human cannot reproduce. Do whatever you wish with her, Vorcia. However, I cannot support her rehabilitation, as it seems improbable at best,” he said. This one
had smooth, green, glistening skin that was peppered with streaks of yellow. His uniform was a collage of pale hues of green and blue that matched his mottled skin. He had a cluster of fine, slender tendrils on his head that hung to his shoulders, as opposed to hair. They undulated subtly, the barest of movements invoking a slight twitch among the opaque tips. They reminded Rhylie of a sea anemone. Around his neck was a clear bluish tube that bubbled effervescently when he spoke. “But I also cannot support an Extinction Decree. It is an archaic tool from our less enlightened times.” His eyes were rounded like a fish, and not quite centered on his face, set back at an angle. It gave him a cross eyed appearance from Rhylie’s point of view.
“Duly noted, Kraeke. I appreciate your confidence in me,” she said dryly.
“Fine then,” Sothu said. “Throw her in your Chamber. Just make sure she stays there.”
“I fear you will regret this, Vorcia,” Riddai said. “But do with her what you will, I could not care less. I have other concerns.”
“I am sure they are very noble concerns, Riddai,” Vorcia said wryly. His eyes narrowed but he remained silent.
“I don’t care what you do with her,” Potaan said, shrugging. “Kill her. Chamber her. A slow, lonely death is still a death. But there should be stipulations. She has shown herself to be dangerous.” Vorcia nodded her head once in agreement, and turned her attention back to Rhylie.
“And there will be. Take her to the Chamber I have prepared for her. Make sure you leave and seal the door behind you before her restraints are removed. I will take no more chances with the lives of my people,” she said.
The table lifted and turned, carrying Rhylie from the room and back down the grand hall. It seemed twice as crowded as it had been before, with everyone packing in around to get a view of her. She was taken beneath the surface, and down a long tubular lift before being carried through yet another series of corridors. These were dimly lit and drab, more of an industrial style than the previous corridors she’d been through. The greasy light and dull gray walls made her feel unwashed and slightly nauseous. Finally, she entered a doorway as it swirled open, and into a small room.
It was nothing special, just a cramped square room with dark, dull, metallic walls. The guards remained outside of the door as it swirled shut behind her. The table’s restraints retracted and it slid into the floor, disappearing beneath her. It was as though it were merely water flowing into a pool, setting her down gently in the process. When it was gone, the room was empty. A sickly light emanating from seemingly nowhere was all she had to see by.
“Greetings. I am your Chamber. What would you like to fabricate?” a soft, feminine voice asked. She had no idea where it had come from. Rhylie took a step back, looking around herself.
“I…I don’t understand,” she said, her voice quavering.
“I can fabricate anything you can imagine or desire, including other lifeforms,” the Chamber responded. “I can create endless worlds for you, provide you with sustenance and keep you safe from harm.”
“That’s weird,” Rhylie responded incredulously. “Other lifeforms? Really?”
“Yes,” the Chamber replied. “They will be biologically complete, fully functioning organisms.”
“But they’ll be…fabricated or whatever?” she asked. She had already forgotten she was conversing with a disembodied voice. It certainly wasn’t the strangest thing that had happened to her today.
“Everything within the Chamber is fabricated,” the voice said. “Except you.”
“Then it’s not real,” Rhylie replied stubbornly.
“Things within the Chamber are fabricated on an atomic level,” the Chamber said. “They are as real as you and I.”
“That’s weird,” Rhylie responded. “Can you fabricate my parent’s compartment on Mars?”
“Yes,” the Chamber said. “Focus on it. Imagine yourself there.”
The walls began to shift and spread away from Rhylie as her parent’s main living quarters formed around her as though rising from a puddle. There was even an expansive view through the bay windows of the red plains of Mars, with Olympus Mons towering in the distance. Something was missing though.
“What about my cat?” Rhylie asked, and then imagined it in front of her. It formed from the couch as though rising up from water. She strode across the room and examined it closely as it sat there, watching her curiously. She reached out to touch it, and hesitated. Her hands were still covered in dried blood. It was an unnerving sight that broke her moment of wonder. She walked numbly over to the kitchen sink and turned the hot water on. She scrubbed at her hands with a furious anguish for a long time before returning to the couch. It was almost impossible to get the black grime from underneath her fingernails. She paused at the couch for a moment, inspecting her cat before she reached out to touch it. The fur felt soft and real, but the muscles and bone beneath its skin felt angular and hard. She began to stroke it anyway, and scratched it behind the ears. It began to purr in response. It seemed to be as real as any other cat. She sat down on the couch to pet her cat, once again forgetting where she was for a few moments.
“Would you like me to fabricate some other humans for you?” the Chamber finally asked after a long silence.
“No, that’s too much. That’s too weird,” she said, continuing to pet her cat. “But I’d love a bacon cheeseburger right now.” She’d only had a handful of them in her life, and they had been delicious. Besides, it wasn’t like she had to watch her figure for anyone. Another thought occurred to her. “Can you fabricate me something to wear first?”
“Of course I can. Just focus on what you would like to fabricate,” the Chamber responded. Rhylie imagined her favorite pajama bottoms and t-shirt. They formed on her body from seemingly nowhere.
Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.
3
Rhylie was deep within the grasp of a mercifully dreamless sleep on the couch when the Chamber gently prodded her awake.
“You have a visitor,” the Chamber intoned in its gentle, feminine voice. She thought she felt someone lightly shaking her as well, but when she rolled over to see who it could be, there was no one else there. She sat bolt upright on the couch, suddenly remembering where she was. Her cat hopped down from the sofa and ran over to the corner, where it sat down on its haunches and curled its tail around its paws, watching her curiously.
The door to the Chamber swirled open and Vorcia entered, appearing to glide smoothly across the floor. She was dressed in pale blue flowing robes that mirrored the tone of her skin. She was wearing a veil this time as well, of the same pale blue tones as her dress. Around her waist was a pastel orange sash bordered with golden fringes and piping.
She turned to look back at the two guards beyond the doorway and nodded her head once at them. The door to the Chamber swirled shut between them, and Vorcia was alone with Rhylie. She turned back to face Rhylie, and stood motionless, watching her with those cold, unblinking eyes for a long moment. Rhylie didn’t know what to do or say.
“I do hope you have been comfortable,” Vorcia said as she broke her gaze from Rhylie’s to look disdainfully around the compartment, taking it in. Her brow furrowed. “These are very humble surroundings you have chosen. You could fabricate something far more luxurious if you desired. The only limit is your imagination.”
“I-” Rhylie began before looking down at the floor between her and Vorcia. “I just want to go home.”
“I’m sorry dear,” Vorcia’s said, her sympathy seemingly genuine. “But there will be no going home. Had you not murdered one of the physicians, that might be possible. You have committed a very serious crime.”
Tears welled fresh in Rhylie’s eyes at the thought. She kept her head lowered as they began to spill forth uninhibited, trailing down her cheeks. Her shoulders shook weakly as she choked back sobs. She couldn’t even begin to comprehend never seeing her parents or brothers again.
Rhylie tried to respond through the emotional torre
nt, but it came out as a stuttering, incoherent babble.
“Now, now. I need you to be strong. There is still some hope for you left,” Vorcia said in a soothing, matronly tone. “We have some very important things to discuss.” Rhylie nodded her head in submission but did not look up as the sobs continued to wrack her body. “I…haven’t brought this up with the other Masters yet,” Vorcia continued. “But with you…through you…” Rhylie felt Vorcia place a hand on her shoulder as she continued to speak. “I want to show them that the human race can be docile and behave in a civilized fashion. I want to show everyone they are capable of functioning in our galactic society. But you’ve already done a great deal of damage to that notion, unfortunately. I may not ever be able to free you from the Chamber, but you can help to put an end to Riddai’s insistence on the Extinction Decree. Without you, they will not even be considered as anything but a threat.” Vorcia’s grip on her shoulder tightened slightly, the tips of her claws pricking Rhylie’s skin.
Rhylie pulled away from her, reaching up to wipe the tears away from her sodden cheeks with the back of her hand. She shivered involuntarily as the sobs slowly abated. Vorcia withdrew her hand suddenly.
“I did not mean to-” Vorcia started, then stepped back from Rhylie. “I was only trying to comfort you. I am not very good at it, I know.” Rhylie raised her head to look at Vorcia through swollen eyelids. Vorcia’s expression was one of sadness, but her eyes were still lifeless. Rhylie looked back down at the floor. “I know you did not mean to do what you did. I know you were just scared and the way you were handled was…less than professional.”
“No, it’s ok, I just…I don’t know,” Rhylie said, her head spinning. “This is all too much. I don’t know what to believe. I need some time to think about all of this.” She thought she was going to pass out for a brief moment. Her face felt cold and clammy, and her palms were sweating profusely. She could feel her heart pounding in her throat.
Nascent Decay (The Goddess of Decay Book 1) Page 3