Tempest: Book Two of the Terran Cycle

by Philip C. Quaintrell

  She caught his eye and shook her head to discourage him. His powers made him too bold sometimes, in her opinion. There was a greater security presence here and they could potentially start a conflict they couldn’t end.

  “Then it is a good thing they are accompanied by a high ranking Conclave official,” Telarrek announced with some authority. Taeril looked to argue his point but the old Novaarian cut her off. “Have you even met the Highclave, Doctor Taeril?”

  She shook her head, beginning to grasp Telarrek’s influence.

  “I carry with me the full authority of the Highclave as a personally appointed Ambassador,” Telarrek continued. I will oversee their inspection myself so that I might more accurately report back to the Highclave.”

  Taeril’s mouth moved but no words followed.

  “Now we shall have some privacy. I will call on you should we need your assistance, Doctor.”

  With a last look at Kalian and Li’ara, Taeril left the cave taking the guards with her. In their place Naydaalan stood watch like a silent guardian.

  “That was very cool,” Kalian said, admiringly.

  “What is the point of having such power and not using it? Had she been part of the security force, like Commander Lanakdar, I am afraid my influence would not have gone so far.”

  Kalian removed the Terran amour device from his belt and placed it on the floor. Three lights switched on giving life to ALF’s image.

  “I do not like being stuck inside that,” he exclaimed. “I’m completely isolated from Conclave communications; I can’t even travel through the A.I. hubs. Imagine being stuck in a room with no windows or doors and not even so much as a book to read!”

  “If you prefer we can hook you up to the Gommarian when we get back?” Kalian was smirking.

  “Very funny. I’m not going anywhere near that software.” He gave the cube an ominous look. “I’m fairly certain it was made by one of these.”

  Li’ara could think of some better places to put the robot. The device allowed ALF to walk anywhere within a line of sight of the emitters. Kalian updated him on their conversation with Taeril, and the unusual word imprinted in the cube.

  “I know every Terran word, but not that one. What does it mean?” Li’ara was watching for ALF’s reaction to Kalian’s question. He crouched down shifting his holographic head to one side. His reaction was annoyingly neutral.

  “Hmm...” He stood up stroking his old beard. “I have no idea.”

  Li’ara held her tongue to what she suspected was a lie. He was too manipulative to trust.

  Kalian looked confused, “But didn’t you invent this language?”

  “Yes, after the last Terran war. The idea was to break down some of the barriers between the different cultures, bring them together.” He gave the word another look. “But that word has no meaning, Evalan...” ALF tested the word out loud as if he were tasting a new food.

  “How does a Terran word get imprinted on a cube in Conclave territory?” Li’ara asked. “The one on the Gommarian I would understand, but this cube hasn’t been in Terran space, has it?”

  “Judging from the sediments and local isotopes, this cube has been here for just over a hundred thousand years,” ALF stated. Li’ara eyed the Terran device wondering how sophisticated it really was. “The cube on the Gommarian would have been travelling across the galaxy in search of humanity at the time. It’s a logical assumption that both cubes never met.”

  “Do you think this one was sent here to broaden the search for humans?” Telarrek asked.

  “Either that, or the Conclave has been designated a threat,” ALF replied.

  Li’ara met Kalian’s eyes, knowing that had been one of his assumptions as well.

  “If that were the case, then why has it remained dormant here for so long while the Conclave has thrived?” The Novaarian moved around the cube to get a better look.

  “I don’t know.” The A.I. began to pace. “I never got to examine the Gommarian’s cube, so comparison is impossible. I don’t even know how long it had been on Hadrok before Savrick found it. The probes I found had been in Terran space for two hundred years before Savrick attacked. Have any probes been located?”

  Everyone looked to Telarrek. “No, not that I am aware.”

  Li’ara had a feeling the ambassador was deliberately being kept in the dark by the Highclave. He could be trusted but his information was potentially inaccurate.

  “This word suggests that the sender already knew of the Terran language, or it’s evidence that both cubes are in contact. Though I cannot fathom why it would have that word, or any word, for either possibility. And I certainly don’t recognise any of the other words. Though it is exciting to know there are so many other alien species out there. So many more mysteries.” His reaction to the unknown was very human; it unnerved Li’ara.

  “It’s the sender part that troubles me,” Kalian looked worried.

  “They are an enigma wrapped in a conundrum.” ALF was far too excited about this new challenge. Perhaps they shouldn’t keep him locked in the device.

  Better to drop him in a black hole.

  “Does the Gommarian cube have any Conclave writing on it?” Telarrek asked. “If there is it would be highly likely that both cubes are connected somehow, a form of communication we are not aware of perhaps?”

  “True Ambassador, you are right. The Conclave didn’t exist when the Gommarian cube was busy wreaking havoc in Terran space. I need to examine the other one to make an accurate assessment. Please tell me you’ve kept it safe.” He turned on Kalian.

  “It’s locked away in the heart of the Gommarian,” Kalian explained. “It can only be accessed with Esabelle or myself present.”

  ALF raised his virtual eyebrow. “And who is Esabelle?”

  Garrett couldn’t be sure if he was floating in liquid or a vacuum. When the pain had finally ceased, after the tortuous machines had finished cutting into his flesh, his body became visible in the abyss. He had no concept of time or space in the dark. The pain had been agonisingly intense, but his brain had refused to pass out, saving him from it. He didn’t know if he had been in the cube for minutes or days. Reaching out into the dark there were no walls or boundaries to confine him but he couldn’t find the light that revealed his body. There was no evidence of any struggle or attack. His clothes were intact and there wasn’t a drop of blood.

  “Hello!” he shouted into the void. Gravity returned with the drop of his legs and arms and the full weight of his body resting on a floor as black as his surroundings. He looked around frantically, terrified that the pain might return. In the blink of an eye he was no longer alone.

  Garrett Jones, human.

  Garrett’s mother was standing three metres away. She was just as he remembered her before leaving for the Alpha project. At a hundred and three years old she had the complexion and body of a woman in her early fifties. She wore a turquoise dress and matching shoes with a small cream clutch under one arm. Her nails were as immaculate as he remembered in a shiny yellow polish, highlighted by her dark skin, to go with the necklace hanging over her dress. Her greying hair was cut short at the shoulders in a perfect line.

  “Mother...” Was this death? Was he in some kind of limbo? Garrett had never believed in the afterlife, but he was seeing his dead mother as clear as day. “Am I dead?”

  No.

  The answer was terrifying. If he wasn’t dead then he was still inside the cube, and if he was still inside the cube then the thing in front of him was definitely not his mother.

  “What are you?” He took a step back but the distance between them never changed.

  We are what came before. We are all that will remain.

  “I don’t understand.”

  Of course you don’t. The ant never sees the boot until it’s too late.

  His mother continued to smile as if they were enjoying a pleasant conversation. Hearing it speak with her voice was not pleasant. There were noises in the distance, beyond the
never ending blackout. Everything was muffled from wherever he was.

  “What’s happening? What are you doing to me?” It wasn’t a massive stretch to assume that what he was experiencing was some form of virtuality; his unharmed body was evident to that.

  Preparing you for what needs to be done. Our task is not over yet.

  “You didn’t answer my question.” The noises grew louder.

  And you think you deserve one?

  “Why are you talking to me at all then?”

  Your species is fascinating. Even now we are taking control of your every synapse, infiltrating your body at every level. And yet we cannot isolate you.

  Garrett’s arms and legs felt cold and he realised it was the first real thing he had felt.

  This... consciousness, it is beyond our reach, ethereal. Your elusiveness will prove to be your ultimate torment, however. You will be witness to the end of your kind, once and for all.

  “I won’t help you!”

  You have no choice.

  With that, the image of his mother disappeared along with his own body. He now saw through his own physical eyes again as the world opened up before him. The dark chamber that housed the cube was now as bright as day, though the lights were still off. He couldn’t just see, but also feel, the power surging through the walls around him. There was no end of electricity being funnelled into the great sphere above him, the Starrillium. The nanocelium that coated every surface hummed with energy that made him feel physically connected to it.

  He stepped out of the cube; it was nothing but an empty shell now, its purpose fulfilled. That thought was a strange one; it wasn’t his but he knew it to be true somehow. Looking back it could no longer be called a cube. Like a Rubik’s cube separated into its individual sections, the alien relic lay inert with dozens of tendrils lying dead in a tangle of tubes. A thick translucent liquid covered everything and continued to pour out across the cold floor. Seeing the fluid, Garrett realised it was dripping off him as well.

  His clothes were shredded from head to foot, stained in blood; his shoes were missing exposing his bare feet. He looked over his new body expecting to see the multiple holes and gashes from the attack, but found none. In their place he found hardened clumps of a metallic substance filling in the gaps. Dark tendrils spread out from them under the skin, embedded into the muscle and bone, completely integrated into his circulatory system.

  A paralysing reality settled over Garrett. He had not consciously made any of these physical actions. His vision changed as his head turned, showing him the heavy-set door. He gasped out loud but the physical reaction never happened. He was trapped inside his own mind.

  He heard sounds coming from the other side of the doors and his body reacted with deadly intent. He could do nothing but watch as arms that were not his launched into the divide between the doors. His fingers were impossibly strong as they dug into the nanocelium metal. The door crumpled under the pressure, giving his hands room to separate the two halves. His new-found strength made the feat look effortless with the internal mechanisms, either side of the door, screeching and snapping under the strain. Various sections of the wall were bulging as the internal conveyers tried to push through.

  His exit must have looked far more dramatic from the point of view of the three men standing on the other side.

  Run!

  They couldn’t hear him. Garrett recognised Commander Astill in the middle of the three, his expression of total horror. He knew the faces of the other men but couldn’t place their names. He could feel the intentions of the imposing mind occupying his own, and felt bad that he didn’t even know their names.

  “Open fire!” Commander Astill blurted before the gunfire started. All three of them raised their weapons and unleashed a barrage of radioactive hell. They might as well have been shooting a mountain for all the effect it had. Garrett lunged forward with supernatural speed, catching the soldier on the end with a lethal grip around the neck. Using his left hand he quickly raised the soldier off the ground, flicking his arm at the wall. The soldier hurtled into the wall with a bone-crunching effect - it didn’t matter though, his neck had already been broken before he left Garrett’s grip.

  Flesh and clothes continued to be torn away by the photonic spray of blue energy. Every scorch mark and hole soon sealed up closing the wound, as if it had never been there. With a quick slice across the commander’s chest, Astill was knocked back several metres, taking the air out of his lungs. The last soldier shouted his war cry over the sound of the rifle. Garrett’s movements were a blur as he deftly whipped the gun away before planting his foot firmly in the soldier’s chest. He bounced off the wall, slumping into a heap on the floor. But Garrett wasn’t finished. A part of him he couldn’t control knew that humans were annoyingly hard to exterminate. The job had to be finished properly. He reached down, grabbing the soldier by his boot and pulling him across the floor until he was between Garrett’s feet. There was no hesitation in the piston-like movement that drove his fist through the man’s face and into the floor.

  The labouring breaths of Commander Astill could be heard across the corridor. Garrett turned to his next victim as the man crawled on his belly across the floor, desperately reaching for his gun. He strode over to the commander, coming at him from behind. He quickly swept up Astill’s arms and placed his bare foot squarely in his back.

  Garrett tried to turn away from what he knew was about to be a horrific death, but could only look on as his grip tightened around the commander’s wrists. In one smooth motion he pulled the arms while pushing his foot. The reaction was worse than the professor imagined. Commander Astill’s arms came clean off their joints, tearing the flesh away as they did. Blood spurted in every direction, covering Garrett as well as the walls and floor. Astill’s screams were cut short when his face impacted the floor under the force of Garrett’s kick. His broken facial bones were the least of his worries; he would be dead from blood loss in moments.

  Leaving the bodies behind, Garrett strode off down the corridor creating bloody footprints in his wake. The cube was right; this was like torture. He was helpless to do anything but watch as his own body made its way across the ship with a purpose he couldn’t understand. It was only five minutes before the next group of soldiers intercepted him, four of them this time.

  Please, just run!

  He wanted to scream and cry; he couldn’t even close his eyes as he tore through the men. His new strength made him brutal in combat. Bloodthirsty arms lashed out in savagery ripping through armour and bone as if it were paper. The last soldier made a desperate attack with his knife, plunging it into Garrett’s heart. He watched helplessly as his fingers launched into the soldier’s face, digging through cartilage and tendons. His fingers shot through the man’s eyes, dropping him to his knees in agony - it was a slow death. Garrett removed the knife from his chest and sliced the soldier’s throat until the trachea split in half, gargling his screams. Only then did he retract his hand to leave the man bleeding out on the floor.

  With a quick glance back, Garrett was sure the alien was tormenting him with the sight on purpose, he walked away leaving another tangled mess of bodies and severed limbs. After another ten minutes of walking he had slaughtered two civilians passing by in the corridor, removing their heads in the process. He could hear the general din of the cargo bay with its constant commotion of foot traffic and inhabitants. The sound of children laughing up ahead made Garrett scream in his mind. He pleaded with the alien to go a different way; he had the sense now that he was heading for the bridge.

  The dim corridor gave way to the brightness of the busy bay. Gasps and screams greeted him as he entered the crowded space. But his keen ears detected another sound above the pandemonium erupting around him - heavy boots at full sprint.

  No more, please!

  The crowds parted giving the squad of armed guards room to line up their sights on the target. There were twelve of them now, but Garrett wished they’d brought more; the
y were going to need it. What happened next was worse than what he thought his new body was capable of. As the soldiers opened fire he dashed to the side, covering several metres in a single bound, where he snatched a mother away from her cowering child and threw her into the line of photonic hell. It all happened so fast they didn’t have time to stop firing before the woman was shot to death. Garrett knocked the son over before he could cry out, continuing his momentum to run behind the nearest pavilion.

  His agility was incredible, allowing him to jump and slide through the throng of terror-stricken on-lookers. Any who got in his way he simply threw aside as if they were no heavier than a stone. He leaped from one crate to another before jumping over three tents in a row. While in the air the soldiers clipped him multiple times along his arm and leg, but it didn’t hinder his landing. It was easy to get lost amongst the market-like rows until he was able to double back. The screams that followed him made it harder to evade his hunters. But Garrett realised this wasn’t evasion.

  In moments he found himself slipping between two pavilions and colliding with the group of soldiers. He shoulder-barged the closest of them, driving her into the group to create chaos. An instant backhand broke the neck of the soldier to his right. He didn’t stop. His motion was a blur of powerful kinetic energy as he dispatched every one of them, often with a single blow to a vital organ. In just over ten seconds he was standing in the middle of a blood bath, surrounded by twelve savaged corpses.

  With movements closer to an animal, Garrett made his way across the cargo bay swatting people aside. The two guards that had just arrived at the access corridor were dead before they knew what was happening. He jumped out of the crowd, catching the two soldiers by the side of their heads, smashing them together until they shared one. There was nothing between him and the bridge now.

  Captain Fey stood with Lieutenant Commander Ramone and Worth as they looked on in horror at the cargo bay monitors. The late shift had refused to leave the bridge while they were in an emergency, leaving their replacements to take up the extra monitors. She took one last look at the portal relaying the image of Commander Astill lying dead outside the basement with Esposito and Clark. He was a good man and an even better soldier, she would miss him, she would grieve them all, but first. “Rodriguez, status report.”