Guardians (Caretaker Chronicles Book 2)

by Josi Russell

  “I’m not showing any Vala here, either, sir.”

  Galo emitted a low growl, and took some satisfaction as his subordinates flinched.

  “Then we will need to take a closer look,” he said.

  If they could descend, get closer and make a few passes over the landscape, his scanners may be better able to detect the Vala, or he may be able to see where this race of humans could be hiding them. His success as a shipper had afforded him sophisticated scanning equipment. It would take equally sophisticated technology to shield something from it. And if this race was sophisticated enough to hide the Vala, they were probably sophisticated enough to use them. He might not get his slaves back without a fight.

  Galo detested combat, but had done it before to protect his interests, and it was in his interest to reclaim the Vala. The Cliprig was a transport ship, but it was well-armed. He could handle any attacks.

  Galo contacted the eight ships which had just arrived above the planet. “Hold in orbit,” he said, “and do not advance on the planet. I will go down and begin scans. Stay on alert.”

  As the Cliprig descended through the exosphere, a pesky orbital defense system moved to interfere, so Galo sent a few well-timed pulses out and the system was disabled. It may not have been so easy with manned defenses, but these were remote controlled and automated. He liked automation, because once he saw the pattern, he saw how to disrupt it. You didn’t become the greatest shipper in the universe by not knowing how to deal with orbital defenses.

  When the orbital defenses were out of the way, and Galo was sure they posed no threat, he began the descent.

  ***

  Reagan’s checks were complete. It had taken over two weeks, and a lot of overhauling, but Lumina was as ready now as Flynn or Coriol. Reagan took some comfort in that as he walked down the liftstrip next to Lumina’s chief defensive coordinator, listening to the defense plan as the man gestured at various locations around the base. The days had turned warm here in Lumina, and Reagan wiped beads of sweat off his brow under his hatband. Besides the big battleship standing at the ready in an open hangar on the left side of the liftstrip, the base looked no different than when Reagan had arrived. But it felt different. Reagan had memorized every face, every piece of artillery, every strength and weakness. He had reorganized and rescheduled and though he couldn’t see it in the hangars to the left or the operations center to the right, it felt more ordered and safer. Beyond the base, the circular city of Lumina lay like a coin on the plain, and Reagan felt satisfaction knowing that its inhabitants were better protected than they’d been two weeks ago.

  Reagan flinched when his missive clamored with news.

  The orbital defenses were down. The automated spheres that he had been counting on no longer stood between them and the alien ship. He saw his newly-formed crisis team pouring out of the operations center, heading across the liftstrip toward him.

  “Report!” Reagan called as soon as they were in earshot.

  “The defenses are down, sir, and it seems that the ship is descending.”

  “How can they be down?” Reagan growled.

  “It appears to have been caused by energy pulses of some kind, sir.”

  “Weapons?”

  “It’s unclear. They could be. Or it could have just been energy emissions from their thrusters. We’re not sure.”

  Reagan swore. He couldn’t act on that. He had to know for sure if it had been an aggressive move.

  “We do know that it only took seconds, sir. The ship swept the orbitals aside like a little Yynium dust in the air. One minute we heard the alarms blaring that the ship was coming closer to the planet, the next the missiles were firing, and the next the orbitals were offline.”

  This was the problem with remote-controlled defenses. If he’d had men up there, they could have evaluated and responded quickly enough to do some good.

  Reagan glanced around, at the wide liftstrip, the offices, the hangars, and tried to recapture the feeling of security he’d had moments ago. The sun was just as bright, the buildings just as solid, but it all seemed more tenuous now, somehow. Mechanics and servicemen moved about the strip, most performing their duties purposefully, some taking a break near the big doors of the hangars. Reagan started to snap at them to get back to work, that something serious had happened, but the sight of a shadow on the liftstrip stopped him.

  Reagan tilted his head back and watched as a big ship dropped slowly from the sky like a spider on a string. It was just as he imagined an alien ship would be: an oblong beast spewing plasma exhaust. The ship was squat and dark, made of a tarnished metal that gleamed dully in the afternoon sun. It descended slowly, its exhaust burning red and adding to the heat of the Minean afternoon.

  The city lay in stunned silence.

  Reagan glanced at the operations center and willed himself to move. Calling on his battle experience, he grappled with his fear and relegated it to a corner of his spinning mind as he strode across the strip. The crisis team followed, and he noted that the other personnel were following protocol and taking shelter in the bunkers.

  He entered the wide lobby, walked down the hall past the office that had been his for the past two weeks, and hurried to the communications center.

  When he arrived, it was obvious they’d forgotten their situation response training. The room was total chaos. The communications officers were talking, shouting, yelling to each other over the blaring airspace perimeter alarms. Out the window, the dark ship moved slowly down through the sky, growing larger with every passing second.

  Regan had never been under alien attack before. He had fought human foes, had fought natural disasters, had fought space itself once, but never an alien force. Only two people he knew had that experience. He spun the dial on his missive and called his daughter.

  Chapter 19

  Sitting against the warm wall in the heat of the sauna room, Ethan could see the crew around him, heads on their packs, illuminated by the soft glow of their shoulder lights. Traore’s big Maxlight had gone out back in Bleak House, and he’d left it there. The shoulder lights would last longer, but not much. The crew reminded him of his children when a long day had overtired them and drained them of their ever-present energy: sprawled out, sleeping soundly.

  Ethan himself had slept again, dreaming, for the first time since the crash, of sunshine and the laughter of his children. Now, as he sat looking over the four surveyors, he pushed back the fear that he would never hear that again.

  He breathed deeply and slowly, pulling in the warm air of the chamber. He remembered what his friend Yi Zhe had said about qi, that it runs like water through the world, in and out of people and things, and that one must not block it. One must let it flow.

  He let his thoughts flow. Aria’s green eyes came to his mind. She would love to see these things, if they were on a vacation instead of buried alive. He ached to talk to her, ached for her company. He longed to hold his children.

  Brynn stirred and sat up, pink-cheeked in the glow of the reflected light off the curtain formation. In fact, the whole room had a pinkish tinge.

  Brynn scooted over to him. “That was wonderful, what you did for him. I heard you sing.”

  Ethan looked at his scuffed boots and deflected the compliment. “How did you even hear me? You were three people away.”

  “It was a pretty tight fit, and we were pretty still, waiting back there. How did you remember those words?”

  “I’m a linguist. Words come easily to me.”

  He saw her shake her head in the half-light. “That’s pretty amazing.”

  ***

  The crew napped throughout the day, enjoying the warmth and freedom of the Sauna Room so much that they took off their coveralls and slept atop them to provide some cushioning from the unyielding stone floor of the cave. They were arranged in a loose circle, where they could see each other as they talked about their plans for escape and about what they had waiting for them back home. Restored and warm, they turned f
estive, and Ndaiye even coaxed a few chuckles out of Maggie. They worked especially hard to cheer Traore. He had not returned to his usual self after the tunnel. He remained quiet and jittery, crying out sometimes in his sleep. When he wasn’t sleeping, he sat at the edge of the circle, his back against the warmest wall, and stared down at his hands. Brynn sat beside him now, her hand entwined with his, chattering about her danceball team back on Earth and how they’d taken the championship when she was nine.

  Ethan watched for any response from Traore. There was none. Brynn reached around herself and dragged her pack to the middle of the circle. Digging inside, she pulled out a packet of fried, salted bean crisps. She tore them open and poured a few of the crisps onto her hand, then held them in front of Traore. Ethan saw the man’s eyes dart up to hers, then he carefully took a few and put them in his mouth.

  “Here,” Brynn said, passing them around the circle. “Let’s have a feast!”

  Ethan let the savory, crunchy beans roll around in his mouth for several minutes before swallowing them. After days of dry nutrition bars, they tasted amazing. He passed them to Maggie, who graced him with a rare smile before having some herself. When she passed them along, she dug a package of sweetbean candies out of her pack and shared it around. There was a celebratory feeling, and for the first time in days, Ethan felt his breath come a little easier. When the chewy candies passed from Brynn to Ethan, he held them like a gift.

  Ethan wanted to give something, too. He dug in his pack and pulled out the apple. Though a bit bruised, it looked delicious.

  “Try this.” He handed it to Maggie, who crunched into it and passed it to Ndaiye. The man scooted his makeshift bed closer as she handed it to him, anticipation in his eyes. A hint of a smile played at the corner of Ndaiye’s mouth as he tasted it, then laid it gently in his cousin’s hand. Traore took a bite, and Ethan saw his eyes close briefly. He passed it to Brynn.

  “Mmmmm.” Brynn breathed as she savored a taste of the apple, then passed it to Ethan.

  He took a bite. He closed his eyes as he reveled in its sweet, tart flavor and bright finish. He glanced around at the others and they were smiling. The five passed the fruit around again and again, taking small bites and making each bite last. They savored each drop of sweet, sticky juice. They even ate the core, spitting the seeds out with little clicks onto the stone floor.

  Ethan chewed the last jagged bite of the core and swallowed it, feeling a disappointment that made him think of the time when Polara used all her scrip on candy and cried when it was gone.

  From the corner of his eye he saw movement and jumped as he heard a tiny scratching. He looked, expecting the horrible cave krech, but instead caught a glimpse of a small, pink rodent. It snatched one of the apple seeds and scurried back into the arc of darkness surrounding the little group.

  “Did you see that?” Ndaiye exclaimed. “It didn’t have any eyes!”

  “Makes sense,” Maggie spoke for the first time since they’d started the apple, “there’s no light down here. He doesn’t need eyes.”

  “How did he know the seed was there?”

  “He heard it, or smelled it.”

  “Many animals have heat sensors. Maybe it could feel the seed.”

  “Here’s another one,” Brynn said softly as one made its way toward her. Brynn didn’t cower from it. In fact, she reached out and picked up a nearby seed, tossing it closer to the little rodent. It snatched the seed, then sat up and chewed it. Soon, several of them had come out to clean up the seeds.

  Ethan watched them scamper out into the light, their little noses twitching under the smooth pink skin where their eyes should have been. They didn’t move hesitantly, instead scurrying purposefully forward, finding the seeds, and eating them without fear. They had pink pointed ears and seemed aware of any little sound the crew made. Ethan found himself being as still as possible so as not to scare them. He missed living things. The deprivation of the caves made him appreciate all the little things he’d taken for granted above ground.

  The little rodents had protruding front teeth and huge claws, but neither looked like they’d be much use for defense. They were comically large, like costume accessories, and Ethan assumed they were great for digging. The room was quiet except for their scratching.

  “Have you read the Callitas Chronicles?” Ndaiye asked, referring to a text containing Klaryt myths.

  “I have,” Ethan said.

  Ndaiye scoffed. “You probably read it in the original language.”

  Ethan had, in fact, and he grinned.

  Ndaiye shook his head. “I read a translation, but it was still really interesting.” He gestured at the little animals. “These guys remind me of the Xyxos.”

  “The who?” Maggie demanded, albeit more softly than she usually spoke.

  “They were gods, well, not gods, exactly—”

  “Demi-gods,” Ethan helped out.

  “Right. Demi-gods in the afterlife whose job was to usher the dead to their assigned kingdoms. The Callitas thought of the afterlife as a series of various paradises and purgatories arranged in a complex web through the center of their planet, like these caves.”

  Ethan could see the comparison. “There were judges who made the rulings on where the soul of each person should go, then the Xyxos would lead them through the labyrinth and leave them to their fate. The judges couldn’t navigate the underworld. The story goes that after centuries of seeing the terror on the faces of those they were leading to purgatories, the Xyxos ignored the rulings of the judges and took pity on the souls of the damned, leading them to paradises they hadn’t earned. When the judges found out, the Xyxos were blinded as a punishment. They could no longer see the faces of their charges, so they were not moved to disobey the rulings of the judges, but the myth says that they knew the passageways and rooms of the underworld so well that they still navigated with ease, even without their sight.”

  “So we’re in purgatory, then?” Maggie spoke up.

  There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, then Ndaiye laid back on the warm rock and stretched out. “Nope. This feels more like a paradise to me.”

  Ethan glanced back at the little rodents. The Xyxos were said to know every corner of the underworld. These creatures certainly seemed to know their way around as well. He wished he could be as confident in the dark as these little Xyxos creatures. As the Maxlights had gone out he couldn’t help feeling the dark of the cave closing around them minute by minute like a tightening noose.

  A rock clattered somewhere behind them, startling the Xyxos, who froze, then fled, stuffing the last seeds into their cheeks and scampering between and behind the columns, where they disappeared.

  Watching them go, Ethan’s attention was drawn to the magnificent formations all around the Sauna Room. In addition to the red drapery formation, the far end of the cave had beautiful green splattermite formations: stalagmites that had formed in big leaping droplets that were frozen now in the midst of their action.

  And behind them, where the top of the cavern sloped to meet its floor, the roof was covered with brilliant, sparkling white popcorn formations.

  Ethan wandered over toward them, inspecting their glistening surfaces. Short and blunt, the bulbs of calcite stuck out along the ceiling and covered the back sides of several of the stalactites and stalagmites. It was beautiful. He followed it up the cave ceiling. About halfway across the room it tapered down to a few knobby protrusions and then stopped altogether. He shone the light along the edge of it. Then something else caught his attention.

  But it wasn’t possible. Ethan couldn’t be seeing what he thought he was seeing. At the top of the cavern, at the very limit of his light, carved into the stone wall, were the curves and cusps of Xardn symbols.

  He scrambled closer to them, extending his arm above him to get the best view he could. Xardn, the dead alien language he had spent his life studying, was beautiful wherever it was found, but here, carved into the smooth stone, with the light glancing of
f the crystalline formations around it, it was especially so.

  Ethan squinted, trying to translate. Something was off. Never mind that they were nowhere near the Circinus galaxy and that no record of Xardn-speaking populations existed here on Minea, and never mind that they were hundreds of feet into a cavern where no one should ever have been, there was something wrong with the Xardn sentence he was looking at. There was a symbol he didn’t recognize, and the arrangement of the symbols was wrong. As it came to him, he shook his head in disbelief. Ikastn. It was in Ikastn.

  Ikastn was a slightly altered form of Xardn. It had been used in the Circinus Galaxy, perhaps still was used, but Ethan had never heard of a modern population of Ikastn speakers.

  The real puzzle was what it was doing scratched into the soft limestone of a cave this far from the Circinus Galaxy. And it looked freshly carved. The symbols stood out in pale relief. They weren’t worn, as they would have been if the cave’s winds and water had scrubbed them for centuries. Someone had been here. Recently.

  Ethan swung the light around the room, streaking it across the barren walls. He had felt the breeze so strongly in the tiny tunnel. It had to be coming from this room. He ran the light across the ceiling, fearing a tiny impassable hole like they’d found in the crystal room, but saw nothing. The popcorn caught his attention again and he moved the beam along its sparkling surface, then down where it grew on the backs of the columns.

  The backs of the columns. Why didn’t the popcorn formations grow uniformly around the column? Could it be like moss on the trees in the forest outside the cottage? The mosses liked the shadiest side of a tree, often the North side, but always the side where evaporation was the slowest.

  But here, in the cave, it stood to reason that if the popcorn was growing on one side and not the other, there had to be some difference in the rate of evaporation. The popcorn would grow where the evaporation was quicker. The side where wind dried the stone more quickly. He carefully stepped between the stalagmites and slipped to the back wall of the chamber, where a jagged crack gaped open in the wall behind a huge column. It was easily a meter and a half wide. Ethan flicked the light up. The crevice ran about three meters up, but it grew more narrow as it ran, and at the top looked no wider than a hand’s width.