Each of the men stood before the miniature rectangles and placed their right hand over the top. One of the troops, a Nix from its appearance, approached the last rectangle with a box. Very carefully, the Nix removed a severed hand from within and placed it on the rectangle. Moments later Garrett’s improved sense of hearing picked up the unmistakable sounds of dozens of locks and bolts on the other side of the long wall. They Shay stood back when the wall released a hiss across the cutting line and the two halves were pulled into the ceiling and floor. Behind the wall-sized door was another door. This proved to be the case for another three doors in which a different part of the body was required with a pass-code and voice recognition. The Nix had produced several body parts, including an eyeball, to assist with the apparent missing member of the strange group.
The final circular door required a drop of blood from each, with the Nix providing a sample from a vial. The curved locks spun round the circumference of the door until it spiralled into the walls, out of sight. A cold fog crept from within, spreading across the floor between their feet and under the hovering platform.
The room beyond was illuminated in neon blue light, exposing the heavily guarded secret. Garrett finally moved as he pushed the cube closer to the newly opened portal. The Shay appeared to be in shock at what was hidden in the vault. How could they not know what they were opening? The doors were obviously coded specifically to them, yet their horrified expressions told of revelation. The Shay dispersed in his presence, giving him a wide berth to rest the cube down. Without the obstruction he could finally see what was contained inside. His own twisted face showed no sign of disturbance, but the Garrett trapped inside was in disbelief.
Stood upright before him was a large tube with hundreds of cables and wires connecting it to the walls and floor. Words and graphs flashed up across the frozen glass that made up half of the tube, presenting him with data about the tank’s contents. At eye-level the frozen mist had evaporated to allow for a clear view of the human man inside. He had short blonde hair with striking features that accentuated his beauty. The technology was advanced and sophisticated by human standards, but Garret could see that it was dated for the Conclave. This man had been inside the vault for centuries at least.
That’s not a human, it’s a Terran!
How the hell had the Conclave managed to contain a living Terran? Where had he come from, who was he? Garrett’s eyes rested on the cube and he was consumed by another question; what was the cube for?
He walked right up to the glass and placed his disfigured palm against it. He could feel the writhing across his skin before the dark tendrils of nanocelium snaked over the tank. It penetrated the consoles on the side and took control of every mechanism. The tubes detached explosively, rebounding off the walls. Servo motors retracted the glass panel round into the tank, leaving the naked Terran exposed.
Garrett reached inside and pulled the body out, dumping it on the floor. He bent down and used the nanocelium in his body to form a sharp nail on the end of his thumb. A small cut was made across the Terran’s face so that a drop of blood was hanging off Garrett’s new nail. With the flick of a hand the blood was sprayed across the silent cube. It waited like an animal ready for its long awaited meal. He understood this part all too well. He didn’t know why but the blood was needed to begin the process. Perhaps the technology required some biology in order to work. It was a mystery to him, but a mystery he would have been happy to have not experienced. He wanted to look away from this next part but had no choice in the matter.
He joined the Shay on the other side of the vault and watched as the cube came to life with horrific intent. Sections moved around one another until it no longer resembled a cube. Long tendrils wormed out of every pore and made their way towards the prone Terran. The human-looking body was picked up by the tentacles as each one pierced the skin and tore through muscle and bone.
Garrett remembered the pain. The agony of having his bones broken and remade over and over as his physiology was transformed. The Terran had no idea how lucky he was to be unconscious for the experience. His skin visibly darkened in patches where the nanocelium clumped together. Thick veins of it ran over the top of his muscles until it covered his entire body like an exo-suit. Only his head remained visible with his once beautiful features now twisted. His eyes were sunken pits with no recognisable detail. It made his own transformation appear crude and unfinished.
The tendrils connecting him to the cube had attached completely now. The cube was just an empty shell like the one Garrett had left on the Gommarian. The only sign of life from the Terran came in the form of a deep breath. A surprising sight considering Garrett no longer needed oxygen. Did this new form require air to live? How was his transformation so different? It could only be the difference in physiology or the individuality of the cubes, or possibly both. He hated his continuous existence, of questions and theories that he knew he could share with no one.
As one Shay bowed on the knee, the others quickly followed suit. With bowed heads they remained silent as if waiting judgment from a god. What was this new form to them? He noticed the guards all did the same, regardless of their species.
The Terran looked straight at him with piercing dark eyes. Garrett felt like he was looking right at him, his trapped consciousness. A strange connection formed between them in that moment. His head was filled with another mind, a powerful mind. He felt his own parasitic occupant bow to the presence.
You do not have long.
The voice was neither his invaders nor his own. The two were communing via some wireless connection.
I cannot isolate its mind. Like the heretic, it is elusive.
You are broken. Your control of this body will not last without the use of a functioning biology.
You may have control of the body, but you must take measures to contain the mind. Yours is that of a Terran and more powerful.
I am in control.
Garrett could feel another connection across the minds. It was familiar but still different. Its communication was on a lower level, like an emotion instead of actual words. They both understood the information, however, and continued with the new data.
The Terran has survived our attempts to destroy him. They are taking him back to the Gommarian.
In his condition he will be no threat. The female, however, may be a problem. She was connected to me on the Gommarian. She is more powerful and is now aware of our presence on the capital.
We will make use of this station and contact the Vanguard. Steps must be taken to ensure the Terran do not get in the way.
Garrett found some relief in the knowledge that he hadn’t killed Kalian after all. From the way they spoke about him it was obvious he was a threat. He also found some comfort in the knowledge that he wouldn’t have to live for much longer. If the Terran was right his alien invader wouldn’t be able to maintain his control and the two of them would finally die. But who was this Vanguard? And where did the other connection come from? He feared any answers he gleamed would only die with him.
The Vanguard will not be satisfied with our level of progress. This galaxy is supposed to be ready by now.
The heretic’s involvement changes everything. I suspect it has survived our machinations.
“What would you have of us?” The question came from the closest Shay, who had dared to lift his head. Garrett realised that to the Shay, only a second had gone by since the Terran took his first breath.
“Is this station operational?” The Terran’s voice was more human than his own, but still not right.
“It is exactly to your designs. If you wish, I can show you to the bridge; everything is operating perfectly.” The Shay remained on one knee.
Garrett stepped into line next to the Terran as they both made for the exit.
“I already know the way.”
Chapter Ten
Ch’len was taking his frustration out on the chopping board as he sliced through a slab of Horvian meat. Rolan
d was clearly ignoring him as he removed the never-ending amount of gear and armour from his body. His slow movements were evidence of the injuries he had suffered during the escape.
“Would it be possible for the two of you, just once, not to jump out of a friggin’ building? Do you have any idea how many laws we just broke? We just crossed a line there’s no coming back from. They will hunt us across the universe for this! And your plan is to return to the one ship that has all their attention?” Ch’len was shouting over his mouthfuls of meat.
Esabelle sat on the floor and rested her head against the wall. It was the only spot in the open-planned living area that was clean enough to sit on. She had healed all of her wounds and replayed recent events in her mind. A part of her regretted saving the bounty hunter’s life instead of fighting her way through to the A.I. There was a cube in the heart of the Conclave and she had to know why. Were they integrated into every civilisation in the galaxy, or just the Terran and the Conclave?
“He has a point...” Roland was down to his trousers and vest now. His arms were covered in bruises and cuts. His right eye looked to have taken a hit during the fight on top of the patrol ship. “We should really lie low for a little while. I know a place on Trendor where we could disappear.”
“Not an option.” Esabelle stood up and used her telekinesis to pull in a cup of water. Ch’len stopped chewing and stared at the unusual sight. “We need to get this information out. Kalian can inform the Highclave of what we found and they can open their own investigation.”
“You’re forgetting the part where we just broke into a government funded building and trashed the place. I’m already a wanted man, but now they know for sure that you exist. You think they’re just gonna let it go that another Terran is walking around unchecked. And that’s not to mention the fact that you’re the daughter of the man responsible for the deaths of thousands of Conclave citizens.”
Esabelle didn’t think of Savrick as her father. Beyond her fourth year he had given her to the cube so her raw power could be put to use. He wielded her like a weapon and so lost his right to call himself her father.
“I couldn’t remain hidden forever. This is too big to worry about the consequences for us. Hopefully Kalian and Li’ara will be back from whatever the Highclave wanted with them. We’ll come up with a way to broach the subject with the Conclave and explain that we had no choice but to act the way we did.”
“Oh yeah, I’m sure they’ll just give us a pat on the back and grant us immediate membership. Maybe we’ll get medals!” Roland pushed out his chest until his back audibly cracked.
“They just need to understand how serious this is. Look at the damage just one of those cubes did.” Esabelle drained the cup and used her abilities to levitate it back to the counter.
Again Ch’len was left with a piece of Horvian meat hanging from his mouth. “Can you do that?”
“Approaching final destination,” the Rackham announced.
Roland ignored Ch’len and made for the bridge. Esabelle followed behind the waddling Ch’kara who refused to stop eating. The bridge was darker than she liked but Roland was often at odds with the lighting after a drink. In his captains chair he pulled up the necessary holograms to monitor the ship’s internal functions and check the sensor array.
“Wait a minute... something’s not right.” Roland enhanced the hologram to his right and displayed it in front of them. Esabelle had a bad feeling. The sensors showed the Gommarian ahead of them in real space, surrounded by an armada of Conclave ships. With a flash of light, the Rackham emerged from sub-space, ten thousand kilometres away from the mass of ships.
“What’s going on?” Ch’len sounded distressed.
“Is this because of us?” Roland asked.
“It can’t just be because of us. This is something else.” Esabelle detected the movement of ships a half second before the sensors indicated their flight path. Seven patrol ships and a Nebula class vessel had broken off from the surrounding net and were heading straight for them.
“Did you forget to activate the stealthware?” Ch’len half ran, half waddled, over to his station to check his own question.
“Of course I didn’t! They shouldn’t be able to see us!” Roland frantically activated several internal scans to ensure the stealthware was working efficiently. The ships were now clearly visible beyond the view-port as they formed a new net around the Rackham.
“Take us back into sub-space, Roland!” Ch’len jumped into his seat, which automatically increased the height to match the station.
Roland flicked up another hologram, “Not enough fuel.” The console chirped to indicate an incoming transmission. “How do they know where we are?”
“They don’t, the Gommarian does.” Esabelle could see it as the only explanation. For some reason the Conclave had boarded the ship and taken control of the bridge. It was the only way they could detect them with Terran stealthware technology.
Roland sighed as he dropped his hand on the open com channel.
“Under the authority of the Highclave, you will deactivate your stealth technology and be escorted to the Gommarian. You have ten seconds to comply or we will open fire.”
Roland sat back in his chair and pinched his nose. “I’ve got to put all that shit back on...”
A small army of soldiers awaited them beyond the Rackham’s descending ramp. Each one was aiming their rifle at the three fugitives as they slowly walked into the light.
Esabelle could feel the adrenaline surging through the varying species before them. The soldiers didn’t know what to expect, only that the ship’s occupants were dangerous. After her display on the capital she couldn’t blame them.
“Why can’t I stay on the ship?” Ch’len was uncomfortable in the open spaces of the massive ship.
The crowd began to part and the flat rocky head of a Raalak became visible.
“Because they’ll only storm the ship and drag you out by your stubby legs.” Roland tucked his jacket behind his Tri-rollers, showing off the handles as he strolled through the guards, ballsy as ever.
The guards parted as High Charge Uthor towered over them on his four powerful legs. His stony brow furrowed at the sight of Esabelle, looking her up and down.
“Are we going to have a problem?” he asked.
Esabelle remained silent, not wanting to make any promises. She still didn’t know why the Gommarian was now in the hands of the Conclave. She matched his steely gaze with an unyielding will born of the power she felt flowing through her body. She would go along with them for now, knowing that if it came to it she could turn the tide of control on the great ship.
Uthor clearly took the lack of action as her response. “Good, come with me.” The High Charge showed them through the many corridors of the ship until they arrived at the med bay. Esabelle couldn’t hide her shock at seeing Kalian submerged in a tank of blue liquid in the centre of the room. She knew it was him immediately, despite the lack of detail on his severely burnt face. Several nodes were attached to his face and hands along with a mask that covered his mouth and nose. Small robotic spiders crawled across his body, each one with a head of probes that couldn’t find a way through his armoured suit.
Between the rainbow of holograms that floated around the Medder tank, Li’ara stood with her hand flat against the horizontal tube. She watched Kalian intently through the glass covering, barely noticing the new arrivals.
Esabelle pushed out her awareness to feel everyone in the room rather than look at them in turn. She instantly knew that Telarrek and Ilyseal were present with the Ambassador’s son, Naydaalan. From a slight chemical imbalance in Telarrek she knew that the Novaarian had been recently injured and treated by a Medder. Between that and Kalian’s situation, something must have gone seriously wrong on their mysterious venture.
“What the hell happened to the kid?” Roland marched right up to the tank and bent down to get a better look at his burnt features.
Li’ara looked up, st
artled by the commotion.
Esabelle could see the exhaustion on her pale face with swollen red eyes. It appeared the Commander’s feelings for Kalian were stronger than Esabelle had thought. It was a futile relationship, doomed to end in tragedy. The facts were simple; he was a Terran and she a human. He would live an immortal life, connected to the universe in a way she could never understand in her limited lifespan. She would grow old before his very eyes and become nothing but a painful memory. Even now Li’ara didn’t truly grasp Kalian’s situation in the Medder tank. Esabelle could feel the life that burned like a star inside him; he would heal from whatever had caused his afflictions and be stronger for it.
The next hour was spent with sorrowful faces and an explanation of recent events on a planet called Trantax IV. Judging from Uthor’s silence, the High Charge must have been aware of the facts. All the cards were on the table now. Esabelle’s attention was brought back to Kalian’s appearance when told of his incredible feat aboard the Nova. His ability to hold back the power of a miniature sun was more proof of the energy she felt emanating from the Medder tank.
The news of Professor Jones was more disturbing, however. His apparent transformation, along with the presence of a new cube and their own findings on the capital, was unsettling. How many cubes are there?
“So that old shit survived Naveen?” Roland had never met ALF, but he had been present with Esabelle for the recanting. The news was surprising to her as well. Esabelle had hoped to never actually meet the artificial intelligence. Besides being instrumental in the obliteration of his civilisation, she had mixed feelings towards ALF and choices he had made. She wasn’t entirely sure how she would react to meeting him.
Tempest: Book Two of the Terran Cycle Page 24