“We don’t have the luxury of time, unfortunately,” Vorcia replied softly. “The other Masters have decided upon the stipulations that you must agree to abide by if they are to abandon the Extinction Decree. If not, your people will be wiped from the galaxy.” Rhylie’s mouth dropped open and she looked up at Vorcia with horror. It took her a moment to regain her composure. She looked back down and shut her eyes tightly.
“Why me?” Rhylie asked. She was having a difficult time wrapping her head around the scope of it.
“Riddai has been pushing for the extermination of humans for several microcycles now. For the safety of the rest of the galaxy, he claims,” Vorcia said. “When your stasis pod was discovered in dead space, I knew I had my chance to prove to the Masters and Galactic Council that humans could be rehabilitated into productive citizens.”
“I feel sick. I don’t know if I can do this,” Rhylie said, her voice thick with nausea. She felt like she was going to throw up.
“I would hope that you would just agree, and play along with their silly games,” Vorcia responded as she reached down to pick at Rhylie’s hair. Once again, she seemed fascinated by it. “I have put myself on the line for you to get this far. They wanted the pod you were discovered in destroyed without even bothering to open it. It is a good thing that it was a Siirocian ship that found you.”
“Why?” she asked as she studied Vorcia. There was something about her Rhylie didn’t like, despite her altruistic declarations. “Why do you care?” Vorcia twisted her mouth into a frown beneath the pale blue sheen of her veil. Her face and posture conveyed sadness, but her eyes remained untouched by the emotion.
“I believe that it is the nature of all races to be good and do good, that all of our most evil tendencies are imprinted on us. I need your help to prove that to the other Masters and the Galactic Council.” Rhylie looked up at Vorcia, her paling face covered with a thin sheen of cold sweat. It felt like there were heavy, sagging bags underneath her eyes. “We will never mature as a society until we have all moved beyond these barbaric inclinations of responding to violence with violence,” Vorcia said in a practiced manner. Rhylie thought about it for a moment as Vorcia continued to play with her hair.
“I’ll do it,” Rhylie said numbly. “I’ll agree to the stipulations. What ever it takes, I suppose.” She still didn’t feel any better.
“Good,” Vorcia replied. “We’ll need to get you dressed up in some proper clothing so you can be presented to the Galactic Commonwealth.” She smiled beneath the veil. “You will be so pretty.” Vorcia continued to stroke Rhylie’s plain brown hair between her fingers and thumb. “I love your hair. I wish I had some of my own.”
*
Rhylie was placed in sleek, silvery cuffs that were little more than glorified jewelry and taken from the Chamber. A formality, Vorcia assured her. The other Masters were still afraid of how she might possibly behave after the incident in the medical bay. As they continued through the corridors, Vorcia chatted idly with Rhylie as if they were old friends, modestly boasting to her that violence had been eliminated throughout the galaxy for over three centicycles. Rhylie didn’t bother asking what a centicycle was, or how that would even correspond to human years. It didn’t seem as though it would ever matter.
That was also the last time an Extinction Decree had been issued. It was perceived to have been an impulsive decision then, openly questioned by many at the time. How could a non-violent, civilized society even contemplate invoking an Extinction Decree? It was something that modern scholars continued to debate heatedly in current times, with some arguing that it had been the Extinction Decree itself that had eventually brought about peace and tranquility to the galaxy by eliminating those with war-like cultures and tendencies.
Rhylie was taken into another egg-like room and dressed in a gray form-fitting dress, with a dark red flowing sash that draped over her shoulder and wound around her waist, adorned with dark red tassels that hung to her knees. Vorcia continued to chat, switching the subject glibly to galactic trends and fashions. She used the term elegant minimalism a lot. Once, Rhylie would have found this to be the most interesting thing in the world. Now it all just seemed…stupid. Pointless. She began to fidget.
“Soon, dear. It will all be over soon,” Vorcia said as though sensing her waning interest. “Keep your eyes down and on the platform. Just say and do as you’re told so that you make it through this silly mess, then we can begin to work towards real progress.” Rhylie nodded her head numbly, as though in a trance. The door swirled open and a Siirocian soldier, this one dressed in far more elaborate garb than the others she had seen, stuck his head in and looked at her, and Vorcia, before nodding his head once.
“Come child, it is time for us to go,” Vorcia said, before following the soldier out of the room. “It is time that you go your way, and I go mine. Remember, just do as you are told, and say what you are told to say.” She turned and strode down a long hallway, flocked by Siirocians, before Rhylie could ask her how she was supposed to know what to say.
Rhylie was taken the other direction, and eventually through a large doorway as it swirled open, and into the most incredible place she had ever seen in her life.
An immense plaza, framed by towering spires, filled with a teeming mass of people, spread out before her like a gargantuan urban valley. The crowd was so far beneath her that she couldn’t even make out any individual faces or characteristics. Thousands of windows stared blankly down upon her like empty eyes, covering the spiraling buildings that loomed over her. Ringing the Grand Plaza was a series of enormous, translucent screens, suspended in the air, and on every single one was an image of her horrified face. And above it all, was that great, winged, orange nebula in the sky.
She was escorted out onto a white, circular platform, which began to rise slowly after a slight pause. She felt weak for a moment, as vertigo set in, but the guards on either side of her held her firmly by the arms. It carried them over the writhing throngs of people, larger than any gathering of humans she had ever seen in her life.
They roared, millions of voices howling and cheering, screeching and roaring. The cacophony was deafening, overpowering, intimidating. The throng below her rippled and swayed as they crowded in, seething with an insatiable energy.
She felt her knees give away, but the guards continued to hold her steady. When the platform stopped, all went silent, and the guards allowed her to fall to her hands and knees, her head down. She fought back waves of nausea.
“HUMAN, YOU ARE HERE TODAY TO SPEAK ON BEHALF OF YOUR PEOPLE,” Riddai’s voice boomed expansively across the crowd. Rhylie lifted her head. His visage was on every screen around her. “AN EXTINCTION DECREE HAS BEEN ISSUED FOR THE HUMAN RACE, UNDER THE CHARGES OF INNATE VIOLENCE, SAVAGERY AND BARBARISM. WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR THEM? WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF?”
“I am here to beg for mercy,” she spoke, her voice wavering as it swept over the crowd, amplified. What did they want to hear from her? She didn’t know what else to say. She lowered her head again and words began to form on the surface of the platform beneath her. She was confused for a moment, but then she understood. She began reading them aloud.
“I cannot absolve myself or my people of the things we have done, and continue to do, the abhorrent crimes we have committed as a culture. I can, however, apologize for them. We have behaved barbarically and we have done cruel things. We have murdered innocents in our ignorance and stubborn pride. We bring widespread discord to the galaxy and spread chaos everywhere we go. We may deserve that decree-” she stumbled across the words, freezing in horror for a moment before continuing. What am I doing? she thought numbly. “But I do not. I am only one, my Masters, and I humbly submit before you. I swear my allegiance and servitude to you. I give my will to you that you may help me, shape me, and mold me into a better, more civilized being.”
There was a long pause as the crowd roared again beneath her, a million starving voices wailing, demanding to be
fed her humanity.
“We have considered your plea, and we will accept it, under certain conditions,” Vorcia’s voice came across clear and clean, silencing the crowd. “You will forget your human name. We will give you a new one.” Rhylie’s mouth dropped open in shock. She raised her head to look at Vorcia, her eyes pleading.
Vorcia was just a small figure, hundreds of feet away, but her cold, unblinking eyes played out on the enormous, translucent screens that wrapped around the gathering. Rhylie lowered her head again, her lips quivering. She fought back tears and a sudden wave of regret. If she were to just throw herself from the platform, it would all be over in an instant. A sudden calmness came over her as she considered it. She still had some control over her situation, even if it was a last, desperate decision. But she did not believe that the situation was that dire yet.
“You will wear a collar from this day forward. It can and will be used to terminate your life if you choose to show any more of the barbaric tendencies of your race from this day forward,” Potaan’s voice boomed. “We have no choice. Violence will not be tolerated in our civilized society.”
“You will be confined to a Chamber unless you are able to display that you are capable of operating functionally in a peaceful, civilized society,” Sothu’s voice boomed next. “Violation of any of these terms is cause for immediate execution. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Rhylie answered numbly.
“Then this is settled. From now on, your new name will be Gota, no matter what you were called before. As we have graciously given you a second chance, all that is behind you will be wiped clean, including your previous trangression. Return her to her Chamber,” Vorcia commanded.
The raucous crowd howled with delight as the platform began to descend. The din continued until she was carried through the doors. They swirled shut behind her and the guards, and it was all over. There were no sounds in the ringing silence left in the wake of the intensity of the crowd’s uproar, except for the swish of movement as they half-carried, half-escorted her back to the Chamber.
Rhylie shuffled along best she could, occasionally dragging her feet, keeping her head down. She felt sick inside, like something was wrong with her stomach. It grew into a burning sensation, and she could taste bile in her throat.
She had to remind herself that what she was doing was for a good reason. If she could prove that humans deserved to be a part of galactic civilization, then it was her duty to do so. But if that were true, why did she feel like such a traitor? She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong with what she had just done.
The door to the Chamber swirled open and she was allowed to walk inside by herself. The door swirled shut behind her and the bracelets slid off her wrists, disappearing into the floor. She watched them for a moment before a movement caught her eye. She looked up, suddenly realizing she wasn’t alone.
A faceless figure, clad in a tight fitting, dark outfit, stood before her. In its hand was a long, slender, blade made from blackened metal. A solid black visor covered its face, hiding their features.
She tried to recoil, to get away from it, but her back pressed against the wall where the door had been. She turned to beat on the wall with her fists, but they made no sound.
She screamed for help as she flailed away at the wall in vain. Her screams turned to gurgles as the blade slid between her shoulders, upwards and into her throat. It was a well placed strike, designed to kill. The figure twisted the blade and jerked viciously, ripping it from her body, slicing through bone and flesh as though it were cutting through a pie.
Rhylie slumped down the wall, choking violently as blood filled what was left of her lungs. The door swirled open and the assassin stepped through it casually, as her body lay on the floor, wracked with spasms.
4
“Gota, can you hear me?” Vorcia’s disembodied voice drifted to her through an endless, empty, void. She had been dreaming…something. She couldn’t remember. Now, she was nothing. Nothing at all. Suddenly Rhylie was afraid.
“Yes,” she called out, but her voice was absorbed by the darkness. “But I can’t see you. I can’t see anything.” She had no eyes, no mouth, no hands. This is what death must be like, she thought.
“We have you suspended in cryostasis, Gota, while your body heals and regenerates,” Vorcia replied from somewhere, everywhere, nowhere. “You gave us quite a scare. The Chamber saved your life.”
“I don’t understand. What is going on? How are we doing this? What happened?” Rhylie asked desperately. The blackness grew fuzzy and wavered around her. Through her. Within her.
“Relax, Gota, you are only stressing yourself. You have suffered a massive injury,” Vorcia replied. “Someone tried to kill you, and they were almost successful. We have managed to establish a cerebral link with you so that I can speak with you. You are going to be alright.”
“Why would someone try to kill me?” Rhylie asked, freaking out. The darkness wavered and pulsed again. “I haven’t hurt anyone.”
“There are some that do not want to give humans a chance to prove themselves worthy of being a part of our galactic civilization,” Vorcia said. “Some that would rather see the Extinction Decree approved and executed as soon as possible. They know that you are the only thing that stands between them and what they want.”
“Why do they want to kill us?” Rhylie asked. “What do they want?”
“They are afraid, Gota. If they cannot enslave a race, then they have no need for them,” she responded. “And some just want to eliminate any potential competition they might have. I am afraid to think of who it may have been that could have sent that assassin after you. There are select few that know how to operate a Chamber.”
“I don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t. I didn’t know what was happening when I woke up…I didn’t,” Rhylie pleaded.
“I know. I am disappointed that one of my top physicians would treat you so disdainfully,” Vorcia said. “He was only mocking you, admittedly in a very distasteful manner, but he did not deserve what you did to him. However, I do understand why you reacted that way.”
“I know. I was afraid,” Rhylie responded. “I…can’t change what I’ve done. I can’t fix it. But I won’t do it again, I promise.”
“Good,” said Vorcia. “I will make examples of those that did this to you, Gota. I promise. I will send them a message that this is unacceptable. I will protect you.”
“Thank you,Vor-” Rhylie caught herself. “Empress. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you for the kindness you’ve shown me.”
“I just need you to rest, Gota. You will need your strength and determination. Your rehabilitation begins soon,” Vorcia said through the inky black. “I am going to have you put back to sleep now.”
“Empress?”
“Yes, Gota?”
“Were those things…Riddai said true? Have you been watching humans?” she asked.
“Yes, child, we have, for a very long time now,” Vorcia replied. “That is why I am glad I found you. We are not a violent society, and I believe an Extinction Decree would be a great step backwards for us all.”
“Why do you care?” Rhylie asked.
“Because someone must set the example, Gota. Someone must be the light that shines in the darkness,” Vorcia responded. “Because when I saw you, I saw a spark of hope, that all of these horrific tragedies may be avoided. Together we can make that happen, Gota.”
“How are you going to rehabilitate me?” Rhylie asked, unsure.
“Oh, dear sweet child, you needn’t worry about that right now. You need your rest,” Vorcia responded sweetly. “When you awaken, you will be as good as new. Siirocian regenerative therapy is the most advanced in the galaxy.”
“I’m still scared,” Rhylie said. “What if I fail the rehabilitation? What if I’m not good enough, or strong enough?”
“That is the wrong way to think about it, Gota,” Vorcia responded. “A better question to ask
would be why…why can’t you succeed at being rehabilitated?”
“I just…I don’t know,” Rhylie admitted. “I knew some good people. I thought I was one of them until recently. Now I don’t know anymore.”
“You’re simply confused, Gota,” Vorcia replied. Soon all will be made clear. You will be rehabilitated. You must. You are the hope of your people.”
“That’s what scares me the most.”
5
Rhylie woke up in the Chamber, on the couch, when the door swirled open without warning. Vorcia entered, dressed in gray robes with dark red lace trimming. The material seemed to shimmer softly. Rhylie fabricated a chair for her, but she remained standing instead.
“I have been speaking with the other Masters,” Vorcia began unceremoniously. “They are concerned about the assassination attempt, and fear what may come about if you are successfully rehabilitated.”
“What does that mean?” asked Rhylie. She didn’t like the sound of it.
“Riddai is campaigning for your execution,” Vorcia replied. He says you are too much of a threat to peace and civility to be allowed to exist, much less be rehabilitated if possible.” Rhylie’s mouth dropped open in shock. “I believe he may be who sent the assassin that attempted to murder you.”
“If I’m not allowed to go through the rehabilitation process, Empress, then what?” she asked as her brow furrowed with worry. She felt sick again. It seemed as though every time she tried to stand up, she got her feet swept out from beneath her.
“Then you are to remain a prisoner in the Chamber for the rest of your life,” Vorcia said, frowning deeply. Rhylie ground her teeth together in anger.
“But I’ve done everything that’s been asked of me! They can’t do this to me!” she wailed at Vorcia, balling her hands into fists. The walls of her parent’s apartment seemed to shimmer for a moment.
Nascent Decay (The Goddess of Decay Book 1) Page 4