by James Somers
It had been a difficult decision for him to make, but he couldn’t risk hurting his family and friends. He had to leave them in order to save them. His mother, as brilliant a doctor and scientist as she was, still had no answer as to how to remove or destroy the organism terrorizing him from within. And his body, unlike Emil’s, was not able to fight it off. Kale could feel it getting stronger even while he struggled to maintain control.
His mother, Emil and the two Horva soldiers had gone to survey an area just north of the camp where the Guniran council had recently approved for the group to begin building a permanent facility for housing and other needs. The Gunirans would be providing the necessary materials, technology and labor as long as the talks today went as well as expected.
Kale was alone with the ship, claiming he didn’t feel like making the trip today. In his present condition, they believed him. Kale breathed in another deep breath of the fresh air and stood up carrying a letter he had composed to his father and mother. He made his way back into the ship and headed back toward the transgate control room.
Kale had spent the last week and a half, since making his decision to leave, studying the operations of the transgate by way of the ship’s computer. He had found a suitable location, another planet that the Vorn military had apparently rejected because of the hostile inhabitants that controlled the planet. It would be the last place his family would look for him. And if he ran into trouble, it wouldn’t be a peaceful people that suffered his wrath if he went out of control.
Kale set the letter on the transgate console and tapped in his own preset jump sequence. Once the gate was ready, he activated it. A wall of light snapped into place in the room ahead of the console. The gate technology had the capability to jump the entire ship or a small group, depending on the need.
Kale picked up his travel bag from the floor next to the console and hoisted the backpack of supplies up onto his shoulder. He wore his Castillian army uniform loaded with weapons that would give him an advantage in the hostile environment. In the other hand, he carried more supplies. He tapped another key on the display that would begin a scrambling sequence on his jump point once he passed through the portal.
This was it. He looked around the room once more and then whispered his goodbyes to his family and friends. He turned and walked through the portal into the world beyond. The transgate obeyed his preprogrammed command sequence and the portal snapped the jump gate closed after him—he was gone, without any way to return, but at least his family would be safe.
REBIRTH
Year 9042: Planet Castai-Rex
Zurig felt the screams of the men as they perished in blinding light and flame. He felt the agony of his master, Lucin, as his host body was enveloped in brilliant fire—a trap left for him by the Barudii King, Tiet and his band of survivors before their unforeseen escape. The entryway to the underground base burst outward and the rock above crumbled and shifted under its own weight as the stone beneath the ground became molten and displaced by the massive explosion.
Zurig, a Castillian man, and one of Lucin’s servants, assimilated by the symbyte organism well before the thousands that served him now, crumpled to the ground as he felt the loss of strength. The line of communication between minds appeared severed now and Zurig gasped under the pain of the loss.
For years now, his master Lucin’s mind had been the dominating force and being within his head, but now Zurig no longer felt him present. The sensation crushed him like a sudden onset of withdrawal threatening to send him spiraling into madness and despair.
The army of symbyte assimilated soldiers, which had responded to their master’s call, stumbled around in complete disorganization. And then, as suddenly as the voice and presence of Lucin was taken from him, he returned. At first a crushing weight, but Zurig quickly accepted the presence of his master again. Zurig, my servant.
“Yes, my lord?” Zurig said speaking to the air.
The Barudii king has escaped me, but I will yet have him and destroy him, the mind of Lucin said.
“Of course, my lord.”
Zurig, you will be my chosen vessel to lead this new campaign, the voice said.
“I am honored, my master.”
Zurig felt himself slip away as his consciousness melted into the powerful mind of Lucin. He allowed his master to absorb him. Zurig surrendered as the symbyte organism wrapped around his brain stem. Its tendrils, fused to his cerebral cortex, exerted the physical control and channeled the malevolent spirit within his new host body. Now, more than any of the other assimilated Vorn and Castillian people, Zurig manifested Lucin himself.
☼
Kale awoke from yet another symbyte induced nightmare. His sheets were soaked with sweat. Their group, led by his father Tiet, might have escaped the symbyte take over of their planet Castai, but he had not. This foul thing, now doing its best to takeover his mind and body remained ever present with him. It desired his power and told him so often.
Even being on planet Kosiva for weeks had not dulled its painful ability to intrude upon his thoughts and play visions inside his mind of killing his own father and mother along with everyone else onboard the Equinox.
Images of the young symbyte controlled girl, which had attacked him and infected him with the creature, came rushing back to taunt him with his own helplessness. Somehow, Emil’s immune system had fought off the infection. His mother’s medical scans showed it shrinking in size and withering to nothing near Emil’s brain stem where the beasts take residence within their hosts.
Kale sensed its thoughts as much as his own. How long would it be before he succumbed to the sinister, murderous visions and unconsciously carried them out to fruition? The thought of his own weakness had become too much for him to bear. Kale knew he had to get away from his loved ones.
Kale turned to the desk in his compartment and to the piece of white paper which he had been staring at recently. He needed to say he was sorry to his father and mother before it was all over for him—needed them to know that his actions were only intended to keep them safe from harm by these terrible creatures. At last, he picked a writing instrument and allowed the liquid pigment to join itself to the parchment before him. Kale knew what he had to do, he only wished with all of his heart that he didn’t have to.
KOSIVA
A strong wind blew across the grassy plains where the Guniran province stood. Of all of the habitable planets of creation the planet Kosiva was the most sparsely populated, yet one of the most beautiful. With mild climates across most of its land mass and its longer growing seasons, Kosiva remained as near a paradise as one could find among the habitable planets. And most important of all to the Guniran clansmen residing there, it spared them from the ravages of the war.
The province consisted of primarily small homes packed around a small metropolitan area. A number of larger structures stood among them including the Council Chambers for the province. For a small group of people, they had managed to fashion a peaceful and well manicured town.
The delegates from the Guniran council seated themselves inside the ornate council chambers located inside one of the larger two story buildings in the province. The delegates wore similar apparel, consisting of tan trousers and shirts with a long waist coat that opened in front below the waist, even when buttoned. The borders of the garments had been embellished with an intricate pattern of darker material. They wore brimless caps upon their heads and carried themselves like true politicians, which made Tiet uneasy.
Tiet had always been taught that politics tended to be a dirty sort of business with scheming and backstabbing usually taking place. He preferred open combat in a warrior’s uniform with clearly defined enemies and a sturdy blade to the sort of dress he was made to wear today. Mirah had insisted that he dress formally for the meeting, since so much depended on its successful outcome. She had selected for him, a dark blue semi-formal suit purchased in one of the province’s shops. Similar in style to the delegate’s attire, Tiet didn’t lik
e it, but he was consenting so long as Wynn and Grod were made to wear the same. With dark wavy locks hanging on his high, tight collar and his olive skin, Tiet looked handsome in the attire but terribly uncomfortable. He would never be a politician.
Tiet, Wynn and Grod took their seats and a beverage was poured for each of them by a servant. “Thank you,” Tiet said.
He picked up the wooden cup with its intricate carvings along the rim and took a sip—it tasted quite good, but he wasn’t familiar with what it was.
“Gumji,” one of the delegates said as he took a drink from his own cup.
“Excuse me?”
“Gumji. It is made from one of Kosiva’s native plants. It has medicinal properties.”
“Ah… my wife is a physician. She might be interested in knowing more about it.”
The small talk grated on his nerves. Tiet wanted to get straight to the matter at hand. “Gentleman, now that you have consented to our staying near the province, I would like to discuss the possibility of enlisting some of your people to aid us in a permanent dwelling for our group,” Tiet said.
“And what would you pay our laborers with?” asked one of the other delegates.
Tiet noticed a hint of sarcasm in the man’s voice—he didn’t look pleased to be meeting with them.
“I’m sure we could come to some sort of arrangement,” Wynn said.
“The fact of the matter is you don’t really have anything of value that we would be interested in,” said a delegate named Onnell.
Clearly the small talk and pleasantries are over, Tiet thought.
“The only reason that we have consented to this meeting is because of Aija’s influence,” Onnell said.
“Who is this, Aija?” Tiet asked.
“He is the prophet of Elithias, the Eternal One,” one of the other delegates replied. “He instructed us to meet with you, since you are the Barudii king.”
“Well, that’s fine,” Tiet said. “So then why do we appear to have a problem if your prophet has told you to meet with us?”
“The problem, Master Soone, is that we know who you are,” Onnell said. “We are afraid of the trouble that follows you.”
“And what trouble might that be?” Grod asked. His deep voice filled the chamber when he spoke. His muscles looked as though they might burst out of the Guniran suit at any moment.
The delegates never acknowledged Grod’s presence. Onnell continued speaking to Tiet. “You are the king that fought and defeated the army of the Baruk and now your planet is under the control of the same being that controlled their clan for so long. You barely escaped the planet with your lives.”
“We are not warriors here,” another delegate said. “We cannot fight an army if they come to Kosiva looking for you.”
“I assure you, gentlemen, it is not our intention to place you and your people in danger. I am the Barudii king in the stead of my father. I returned from exile to avenge my fallen clan, but the time was right to form a rebellion against the Vorn, so we did so and we won. The Baruk answered this defeat of the Vorn with an attack on the twin Castai. It was only with General Grod’s help that we were able to defeat the Baruk, but that is when their leader, this symbiotic creature, escaped and began a fifteen year assimilation of the population on Castai.” Tiet explained. “We came to Kosiva on the run from this creature. What else could we do?”
“You see Councilmen,” Grod said, his voice commanding their attention, “We had peace. This was all due to the efforts of the king. Tiet is not some war monger trying to bring the conflict to your planet. He made peace with me and my Horva brethren, recognizing our struggle for freedom. We, in turn, assisted him against the Baruk. It could not be helped that the creature escaped and later overran the twelve cities. We made every attempt to stop the takeover, but we were simply outnumbered.”
“If I may, Councilmen,” Wynn said—his voice more calm than the others. “Our way of escape from the planet is the key to the matter.”
“I don’t follow you,” Onnell said.
“You see, we utilized General Grod’s transgate portal technology, found only on our ship, the Equinox. It would be extremely unlikely that this creature would make any attempt to follow us and more importantly, it doesn’t know where we have escaped to.”
Tiet grew nervous. The fact remained that his own son carried one of the symbyte creatures inside his body.
“I understand your dilemma, Master Tiet, but please understand ours,” Onnell said. “We are simple people, farmers and merchants. We came to Kosiva to escape the war. We wanted no part of it then and we want no part of it now. This province is all that we have.”
“Perhaps we should just leave Kosiva altogether then,” Tiet said in frustration. “We had hoped for peace ourselves, but it appears you’re unwilling to grant our petition to stay among your people.”
“We are not saying that you have to go,” Onnell said. “Your suggestion might ultimately be the best solution, but we have been commanded by the prophet not to send you away. In fact, Aija himself desires to meet with you.”
“Where is Aija then?”
“He lives on the mountain of Honnib. Aija has sent a messenger proclaiming his desires with regard to your group. He expects to meet with the Barudii king in approximately three months from now and he has instructed us to pay you the kindest hospitality. He claims it by the will of Elithias.”
“Well, this is more like it,” Tiet said under his breath looking sideways at Grod. “We would—“
Tiet’s com-link pin beeped on his collar. “Yes.” He spoke chin down toward the pin.
“Tiet, it’s Kale!” Mirah said. She sounded almost hysterical.
“Mirah, what’s wrong?”
“Kale—he’s gone—he’s run away through the transgate!”
“Calm down, Mirah, I’m on my way now,” Tiet said. He stood to his feet addressing the Gunirans. “Gentlemen, I have an emergency—we’ll have to continue this at a later time.”
“But we have more details that must be worked out before we—“
“Wynn, Grod, if you wouldn’t mind to stay and settle this, I need to get back to the ship and see what’s happened.”
“Of course,” Wynn said. “Go on ahead and we will be along as soon as our business here is finished.” Wynn had more experience with this type of situation. He remained measured in his speech, careful never to say more than needed saying and his neatly kept white hair and beard gave him a distinguished look that people respected naturally. Wynn could do this without him.
Tiet walked out of the council chambers. He tried not to get too excited. Maybe his son had simply gone somewhere without his mother realizing. He told himself that explanation, but he wasn’t buying it.
The Gunirans had been kind enough to offer his group several animals for traveling after they had hiked into the province for the meeting. Tiet unfastened the reins of his leore and climbed into the saddle. The domesticated hoofed quadruped had a short fiery red coat with a blonde mane flowing down the back of its neck. Tiet turned the animal with a pull of the reins and goaded the leore’s sides with his heels. They galloped away toward the outskirts of the province and their ship beyond.
☼
When Kale stepped through the transgate portal onto the planet Draconis, he noticed that it had been raining. He traveled in a wooded area of mostly large trees with very low undergrowth. The cold rain drizzled on him as he walked. He quickly found himself in a miserable state hiking around in it, despite the black Barudii combat uniform he wore. Fortunately, his gear had been packed away in weather proof satchels.
At five foot nine, Kale looked every bit his father’s son. He had dark neatly cropped hair—boyish version of his father’s handsome features and wiry build.
Kale scouted around for nearly an hour before locating a suitable spot to set up camp. He pulled a small, one man inflatable tent from one of the packs and tapped the gas release valve. The tent inflated itself in the upright position withi
n seconds and Kale moved himself and his belongings inside for the night.
The voice of the symbyte organism stayed with Kale—carried around inside his head so that he could not escape its call. It seemed masculine in nature, but inaudible. The organism’s every piercing thought sent a shiver through his spine.
He awoke several hours later to find the rain abated and a cold wind blowing in its place. The tent remained anchored in place by gravity pulls and was in no danger of being uplifted. Kale moved out of his new home and stretched his body. The wind, though cold, still felt good to him.
It was already dark outside, but the twin moons in the sky, one full and the other half eclipsed, provided a great deal of light. He saw quite well already and his vision improved as he remained out in the night. The trees had lost much of their foliage. It must be fall season on this planet, he thought. Back home, spring had come, but this wasn’t home--just a place to keep away from the ones he loved so they wouldn’t be harmed if he lost control of the organism still struggling for dominance of his body.
In the distance, he saw what appeared to be lights—though not bright like electric lights. He reached back into his tent, into a satchel, and pulled out his uniform’s data-lens. He put it on and zoomed in on the lights in the distance. Clearly they were lamp lights. He saw a small town, but the distance was a good twenty miles.
Kale decided to make the trek tomorrow beginning before dawn. By the afternoon, he hoped be arrive and pick up some supplies. He thought for a moment he heard something, but it wasn’t an audible sound at all. Mentally he had heard something and it wasn’t the voice of the symbyte either. He had grown very accustomed to that voice in his head now—single minded in its struggle for control.