“This makes more sense.” My words fell short, and the light from the built-in lanterns on the wall seemed to die off a couple of inches from their bulbs. The hall looked to stretch on for kilometers, growing narrower. It was probably an optical illusion, but suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to run up the stairs and take a hearty inhale.
“It always feels like this the first time. The worry will pass,” she told me kindly.
“You don’t seem like a warden,” I said.
“We run on efficiency, Dean Parker. I don’t need to be tough and angry. I also enjoy what we do on Traro. We the Guardians provide a level of comfort to those who bring us prisoners. From the rumors I’ve heard about you, I assume you feel the same.”
“I’m not involved with this type of work. But I have tried to help my people, and in the middle of it all, we started an Alliance of Worlds. A place where multiple races can join forces, not only for defensive tactics, but for cultural, economic, and knowledge-based applications.”
“Then you’re going to be interested in Ovalax,” Ave said.
“Is that so? Which part?”
“Knowledge is the cornerstone to the Sect of Memories.”
“I thought memories would be central.”
“What is knowledge but memories?” she asked, and I paused to consider.
“I suppose they’re much the same. But the issue is knowledge is often lost in memories, isn’t it? Our minds have a habit of changing memories to suit our needs. I see differences between them.” We walked past two Guardians, and they each stamped a foot as their leader passed them. I peered at the door they protected. It was a heavy metal slab, with no markings or windows to see through.
“That’s a very astute observation, Dean.” We continued our journey, and in ten minutes, we’d passed another three doors with posted Guardians, finally stopping at the end of the hall.
“This is him?”
The Guardians permitted us to enter, and Ave pressed a button on a screen. The same light cast over her, scanning her entire body, and the doors separated from the middle. They moved slowly, one layer spreading apart at a time. I counted ten distinct levels, each a foot wide. They weren’t kidding around.
“Come, Dean. Meet Xanz of Newei.”
The area was tight, with two chairs stacked near the wall. Ave grabbed one and slid it across the metal floor. I stared through the clear wall at the prisoner. His cell was big, complete with a substantial bed, a bathroom, a kitchen, and even something that resembled a reading room. Dozens of books sat piled in the far corner.
“You really give them some amenities, don’t you?” The man was sleeping, and he hadn’t noticed us yet.
“I’ll leave you two alone,” Ave said, departing without another word.
I sat in the chair, watching the man as his chest slowly rose and fell.
“I was beginning to doubt you’d show up,” he said in English. He was still lying down, but his eyes had opened.
“You’ve been expecting me?” He’d been here for fifty years, and I’d only just decided to visit Traro, so I wasn’t sure how he’d anticipated my arrival.
Xanz sat up. He lowered thick black hooves to the metal floor, and they clanged as they landed. Horns arched from his head, curving like a devil’s. He was pale, almost white, giving him a ghostly appearance, but his eyes were red, burning like lava.
Despite the security of this prison, I had the urge to jump out of my seat and rush out the door. I didn’t give him the satisfaction.
Xanz rose, the bed lifting from the reprieve of his weight. He was huge, probably four hundred pounds, and he stepped forward. His uniform was altered to fit his size, but it still seemed tight as he flexed his arms in a stretch, black fingernails scratching the ceiling as he did so.
“Dean Parker,” he said with a smirk. “You’re smaller than I would have guessed.”
“How do you know who I am?”
He set a hand to his chest. “I am Xanz, leader of the Sect of Memories. I know all.”
“Is that so?” I stood too, walking to face him across the clear barrier. “Then how do I die?”
I stared into his red eyes, my skin itching as he chuckled. “Ovalax told me you’d be feisty. Are you sure you want to know?”
I’d met people like this before. They were cocky, using lies and handwaves to pretend they were something they weren’t. “Go for it.”
“Ovalax will find you on Newei. His thirst for you consumes him. Your skin will melt, your bones decompose, and you will join him in Forever.” Xanz kept watching me, eyes unblinking.
I swallowed, trying not to let my fear show.
Sixteen
“He worked for the Sect?” Slate asked.
They were gathered in the ship’s meeting room, discussing their strategy. This place had high ceilings and giant screens wrapping around the area, giving the impression they were surrounded by space.
The video from Dasso’s death played on a loop. “Can we turn that off?” Jules asked.
Slate did. “What should we do?”
Magnus was beside Jules, and it was only the six of them present. Sergeant Raron had been ordered to keep an eye on the rest of the recruits, in case Dasso wasn’t acting alone.
“We’ve run all the diagnostics we could. Outpost will make it home,” Magnus said.
“We’re not going to New Spero. We’re flying to Haven.” Jules didn’t want to delay. “There has to be a connection.”
“Between what?” Dean asked.
“What’s the one thing that’s linking these events?” Jules waited, and Loweck was the first to answer.
“The Wibox.”
“That’s right. The Wibox broke into the Academy, stole Regnig. The Gretiol joined the Alliance and claim the Wibox kidnapped one of their heirs two centuries ago, then this Toquil, and they’ve been enemies ever since. Cillen tells us that the Gretiol are part of a Sect of Memories.” She rubbed her temples, trying to make sense of these situations. “Then they infiltrate us, using a Padlog recruit, and we’re sent here, confronted by eight Wibox Runners. They took Malir. How does this connect?”
“We need to get information on the Sect of Memories,” Dean said, “then go straight to Haven.”
“Okay. Haven it is. We’ll bring the recruits to the Institute through the portal, while you and Dean investigate the library with Karo and Ableen. I’m sure something will be found.” Magnus rose. “Anything else?”
Slate brought up the one thing they’d failed to mention yet. “Magnus, you understand we’re going to have issues back at the Institute.”
“I know. Dasso wasn’t working alone. The chances of Squad Nine being the victor in that course challenge were slim. There could be one of these Sect spies on each squad.” Magnus looked ready to punch the wall, but he stayed calm. “Any suggestions?”
“We find out how they’re communicating, and send a message. Let them know they’re required to meet outside the Institute. Then we go and pick them up,” Dean suggested.
“What do we do next?” Jules asked, and Dean slid a tablet onto the table.
“This was on Dasso.” He powered it up and showed a communication imprint. “It’s expired, but never completely erased. Suma will be able to make the connection.”
“Nice work, son.” Magnus froze after saying the word, but Dean didn’t even notice.
“Thanks. Think it’ll work?” Dean powered the tablet off and passed it to Loweck.
Slate grinned, cracking his knuckles. “It’ll work.”
“If there’s nothing else, let’s fly this warship into Alliance space. I’m feeling like a sitting duck out here.” Magnus went first, and Jules followed to the bridge a few hundred meters away.
They entered, and Magnus pointed to the captain’s chair. “She’s all yours, Captain Parker.” His eyes had a glimmer to them, and she cracked a smile, taking the seat. Loweck went to the pilot’s helm, and Slate sat next to her, with Magnus on security detail.
&nb
sp; “Engines are prepared, and we’re ready for return,” Loweck said a few minutes later.
“To Haven.” Jules grabbed the chair arms, digging her nails in as the wormhole generator enveloped the ship. She held her breath again, and this time, they were brought to their programmed destination.
“I’ve advised the local fleet of our situation, and they’re standing down,” Slate told them.
Jules couldn’t believe that Captain Slate, her Uncle Zeke, was here along with Magnus and Loweck, and they were giving her the chair. It meant a lot, even if they had an agenda.
She hit the communicator on her screen and spoke into the mic. “Sergeant Raron, prepare the shuttles for departure.”
His voice came back calm and composed. “Recruits are loaded and we’re ready for your orders.”
Magnus stopped them at the bridge’s exit. “You’ve all shown promise, despite the breach. I’m glad you were aboard for this. I…”
Jules was aware of how difficult some of these situations were for this Magnus. He was used to facing Lom of Pleva’s troops, always surrounded by death. The Wibox had had the opportunity to kill them, but they’d opted to take the prisoner and leave the rest of the crew alive. Jules would seek vengeance, but she wouldn’t forget their mercy. Most enemies would have finished the job, or taken their warship as a prize, because Outpost would have been the ultimate reward.
“We know, Magnus. We’re a good team.” Jules set a hand on his arm, and he nodded twice.
“Let’s proceed,” Magnus said.
They entered the docking bay soon after, with Jules and Dean heading to their own transport. “Good luck. We’ll bring Outpost to New Spero when we’re done,” Jules said.
“Be careful. We’ll work on capturing the Sect infiltrators,” Magnus whispered, glancing to where the recruits waited.
And they were off. Jules lingered until the shuttle escaped the bay’s barrier, and then climbed into the compact vessel. “I didn’t expect this much excitement on our first tour with Outpost,” she told Dean.
“No kidding.” He glanced at her with a smirk on his face. “Captain.”
“You mind flying this thing, Commander?”
“It would be my pleasure.” Dean lifted the transport from the bay floor, and soon they were flying for the Gatekeepers’ Academy, leaving Outpost in deep orbit, with two Padlog vessels keeping a watchful eye on her.
Jules hadn’t been to the Academy since the aftermath of Regnig’s abduction, and she was surprised at how tense she felt as they descended toward the landing pad outside the school. Her time at the Academy had started off rocky, but she’d gained a lot of great memories from there.
Memories. For a moment, she pondered the word and wondered if it was possible to steal them from another. What did the Sect stand for, and what was Ovalax? She hoped to learn some answers today.
“It’s always strange coming to the Academy, isn’t it?” Dean landed the shuttle near a series of hoverbuses. School looked to be finished for the day, and children filed from the courtyard to their waiting transportation.
It was warm out, a beautiful afternoon on Haven. Her parents had helped kickstart this world, expanding from a safe haven for those in need under the guidance of a Deltra named Kareem, to what they saw now. A world with cities, towns, and the central piece of the Gatekeepers, with the Academy. The statue stood proudly, rebuilt after the Kold had attacked.
Observing so many different races, a thriving economy, and a place for the hybrids to live after their unfortunate past lifted her spirits.
“It’s Jules Parker!” a little boy shouted. He grabbed a Bhlat girl’s arm, dragging her over to them. “What are you doing here?”
Jules guessed the kid was ten. “You’re in first year, aren’t you?”
He nodded excitedly. “I’m Jack, and this is Teerak.”
Teerak bashfully lifted a hand.
“Are you in Portals 101?” Dean asked.
They both nodded.
“Don’t forget to listen to your instructors and study hard. One day, you’ll be exploring worlds and assisting people. Don’t take that for granted,” Jules told them.
“You’re the best!” Jack ran off, tugging on Teerak.
“Cute kids,” Dean said, and Jules recalled Doctor Swan’s comments about her starting a family one day.
“Do you like kids?” she asked him as they walked over the stone pathway leading to the library.
“They’re okay, I guess. Can be a little annoying,” he admitted.
“That’s not what I… never mind.” The last thing she needed was to think that far in her future. She had a lot to accomplish before she reached that stage of her life. Part of her still felt carefree and young like Jack.
They accessed the library, and she was surprised to find the student area was back up and running. They’d closed it for the investigation, and it had been off limits for the last few months. They descended in the elevator, lowering beneath the Academy, and when the doors opened, there were at least twenty students using the facility. Some sat in groups at tables, discussing an upcoming exam. Others wandered through the stacks, searching for books.
Despite the fact that almost every text was digitalized, Jules felt a connection to the real books, as did some of the students. Her father was the first to admit he preferred a paperback to a digital copy, but Jules found herself somewhere in the middle. Of course, in Regnig’s library, many texts were ancient and conceivably dangerous. He hadn’t transferred all the data to a computer network.
They walked past the students but drew no attention in the underground space. They eventually came upon the secret entrance to Regnig’s home. She slid the hidden compartment and used her access code, opening the path. Dean went in first, and the moment she entered, Jules heard Hugo’s voice.
The place appeared brand new. Books were reorganized, and the debris had been cleared out. The trace amounts of blood had been scrubbed clean, and it looked immaculate. Regnig’s absence stood out like a sore thumb.
“Jules?” Hugo darted over, hurdling Regnig’s small chair, and pulled her into a tight hug.
“Whoa, don’t break my ribs,” she managed to croak.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
His hair was shaggy, copying the style of the older kids. He was six years younger than her, but already close to her height. He was growing like a weed.
“Is Karo around?” Dean asked, messing up Hugo’s hair. Her brother sighed and tried to fix it.
Karo emerged from behind a shelving unit, a leather-bound volume in his grasp. It took a second to realize it wasn’t him, but his son, Baru. He was so much like his father these days, every bit as tall and imposing, with flowing white-blond hair. “Dean. Jules. Good to see you.”
“Same here, Baru. Looks like you guys have done a fantastic job,” Dean told his friend.
“Took a lot of hours, but we managed to get it in order.”
Karo and Ableen arrived from the kitchen, holding steaming cups. “Coming to check up on our work?” Karo asked.
“Something like that. We’re actually looking for information. We need everything Regnig had on a group of people called the Sect of Memories. Also anything mentioning the Wibox and the Gretiol relationship, and an old race called the Sovan.” Jules tried to think if she was missing something. “And Ovalax.”
Karo narrowed his gaze. “What did you say?”
“Ovalax,” Dean repeated.
“I haven’t heard that name in ages. Long before my people vanished into the stones to balance the Iskios. Ovalax was a rumor even then, but a scary one.” Karo went to Regnig’s study, an area where Jules had spent a lot of hours with the Toquil over the years.
“How have you been?” Ableen asked her, and Jules noted the motherly tone to her question. It held so many layers. Are you sleeping? Eating enough? Is Dean treating you well?
“I’m doing okay, considering what we recently went through.” Jules filled them in on Outpo
st’s maiden voyage.
Karo listened quietly. He squinted as she described the attack and the kidnapping of the Gretiol heir.
“And you don’t think Malir was part of it?” Baru sat beside his mother.
“Not anymore. I mean, why bother staging his own kidnapping anyway?” Dean asked.
“Could be a couple of reasons, I suppose,” Karo offered. “Maybe it was a show, to convince you the Gretiol have nothing to do with the Wibox. You mentioned that part of the reason they joined the Alliance in the first place was for additional protection against their nemesis.”
“But Cillen, the Wibox leader we talked with, claimed they owed a sacrifice. We have to learn everything we can about Ovalax.” Jules glanced at all the books lining the shelves and sighed. The sight was overwhelming. There were just too many volumes to realistically search through. It would take months.
Hugo grabbed a tablet from across the room and brought it to her. “Then it’s a good thing Karo made us load the titles into this.”
“You scanned every book?” Jules took the tablet, gawking at the thousands of titles in the database.
Karo shrugged. “Not all of them yet. It’s time-consuming. We know Regnig considered many of these dangerous, so we’ve referenced each word instead of subjects. Search a keyword, and it’ll show every match associated to a specific book with that phrase in it.”
“What about the language barrier?” Dean asked.
“We have the program cycle the words through the translator program, using every known dialect. It was a lot easier than I expected,” Karo told them. “I have to give the kids credit. That was their idea.”
Jules glanced at Hugo, who was beaming with pride.
She typed one. Ovalax. And waited while it churned. A second later, there were seventy-nine results.
“Wow. That’s impressive.” Jules started to scan them, and soon their group was spreading out around the library, grabbing every text referring to the mysterious Ovalax. She was bound and determined to understand what or who this Sect of Memories was worshiping.
The Survivors | Book 16 | New Lies Page 15