Tempest: Book Two of the Terran Cycle

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Tempest: Book Two of the Terran Cycle Page 43

by Philip C. Quaintrell


  There was no sign that Malekk even felt the plasma or the crushing telekinetic force. Fighting against Kalian’s will, Malekk slowly brought up his hand and opened his palm. Kalian was ready for any attack, though. He had built a wall as strong as diamond around his body, only a couple of millimetres thick.

  The square pillar beside them groaned audibly over the heat of the plasma, and Kalian realised too late what Malekk was doing. The metal frame crumpled inwards until the weight of the tiers above came crashing down on top of them. In the second before they were buried, Kalian released his hold on Malekk, intending to dive out of the way and leave the Terran to be crushed.

  But Malekk was quicker.

  Kalian was driven from the spot by Malekk, who charged into him with telekinetic assistance. They were both flown out of the narrowing gap until they skidded across the floor, sliding through small fires. Kalian’s anger kept him going. He had already planted a skull-shattering blow to Malekk’s face before their momentum ended. They were separated again, rolling in opposite directions.

  The most powerful beings in the galaxy picked themselves up and faced one another. Malekk’s face was healing more slowly than it had before; leaving him with a black eye-socket that still smouldered.

  “Being burnt sucks, huh?” Kalian tried not to think about the Starrillium’s effects on him.

  “I will see to it that your whole race burns before they die.” Malekk actually looked angry for the first time. “But not before...”

  The bridge shook, creating more chaos and debris. Malekk looked around with the same far away stare that ALF had when he was investigating something they couldn’t see. Kalian expanded his awareness and felt the explosions that had gone off in the lower curve of the crescent station. He felt the power of the thrusters slowly die away and the hungry pull of the star’s gravity.

  “It doesn’t look like you’ll be seeing to anything.” Kalian could feel the exhaustion creeping through his defences.

  “Much like your precious Gommarian,” Malekk added. “Or your friend up there.” He pointed at Esabelle with his chin.

  Kalian felt the fury in his bones renew and fired himself at Malekk. He was going to tear the monster apart as he had Garrett and beat what was left of him with his own limbs. Malekk’s hand shot out and stopped Kalian in mid-air before putting him on his back. The blow to the back of his head dazed his vision for the second it took Malekk to pick him up by his throat. The bridge continued to shake around them, shattering any glass that survived the fighting. The crack in the view-port spread, creating a more complex web.

  “You should know when you’re beaten.”

  ALF’s voice came from a newly formed speaker in Kalian’s exo-suit. “So should you.”

  Without Kalian’s permission, the nanocelium grew over his head and hands before the entire suit of armour ejected his naked form out the back. The exo-suit knitted back together in the blink of an eye and attacked Malekk, as if Kalian were still inside it. Kalian was left stunned on the floor, unaware that ALF even had the power to control the suit in such a way. Rapid punches knocked Malekk backwards, though he appeared less stunned at the development.

  “Run, Kalian!” the exo-suit shouted as it grappled Malekk into the pitted tier filled with fire.

  Kalian scrambled to his feet trying to keep his balance on the shaking floor and avoiding the panels falling from the ceiling. With every shudder, the view-port cracked a little more. Kalian could feel the increasing speed with which the station was dropping into the sun. He had less than minutes to reach the Rackham and escape before the Terran ship would begin to suffer with the star’s intensity.

  The door partially parted in half, its servo motors damaged inside the wall. Kalian used telekinesis to open them all the way and paused on the edge of leaving. His mind gripped Esabelle’s body and pulled her across the bridge with invisible hands. As her body landed in his arms, ALF was flung from the pit with enough force to kill a man. Being a hollow machine, the A.I. felt nothing and got straight back up.

  The station shuddered again, forcing Kalian to fall into the wall with Esabelle in his arms. There was no time to stop and see if ALF fared any better than they had against Malekk; the Starforge would disintegrated in minutes. To give the A.I. some chance of survival, Kalian mentally commanded all the loose cables, and some still buried under the floor, to lash themselves to Malekk’s arms and legs, tying him in knots and binding him to the floor.

  The station was rocked again and Kalian ran with a speed Esabelle had taught him. A couple of minutes later the Translift opened up to a deserted hangar bay and a lone Rackham. His naked body didn’t register the cold as he ran across the expanse and up the ramp of the Terran ship. Kalian was gentle in the way he placed Esabelle’s body on the couch on his way to the bridge.

  The Rackham lifted off just in time as the station tilted and the grav-plates lost power. Anything not tied down was thrown to the right of the hangar moments before the port shield failed and everything was sucked into outer space.

  Kalian hesitated when the black form of ALF dropped out of a ventilation shaft in the ceiling. He was astonished to see the A.I. What did this mean for Malekk? The machine skidded down the tilted floor, digging his fingers into the metal to slow him down while creating a wave of sparks. Kalian lowered the ship and flew over the top of ALF and out of the Starforge.

  A metallic thud resounded up through the layers of the ship. Kalian angled the ship away from the star at full speed, leaving the station to burn up on its descent. A quick sensor sweep detailed the location of the Sentinel, making its way towards the Rackham. Kalian jumped in his chair at the sight of ALF slowly being moulded out of the bridge floor. The exo-suit built itself up as the individual nanocelium passed through each other, slowly taking the form of a biped, until ALF stood next to him.

  “You’re full of surprises today,” Kalian remarked with an uninterested tone.

  Without a word the nanocelium compacted back into the buckle that housed them and dropped to the floor at Kalian’s feet.

  A flood of emotions hit Kalian at once. He was relieved to be alive after yet another situation that had put his life in danger inside of six months. He was angry at the mysterious external forces that harassed him and his kind. It angered him almost as much that he couldn’t convince the Conclave that they existed. And now, after being forced to tackle them alone, Esabelle was dead. Kalian was physically and emotionally exhausted. In the silence of the bridge he suddenly felt very alone. He couldn’t even see the humour in sitting naked in Roland’s chair. With that in mind, he reconnected the Terran panel to his skin, below his navel, and let it envelope him.

  New scan results fed back the almost microscopic debris that was apparently left by the Gommarian. The twenty-mile ship had been reduced to fragments no bigger than Kalian’s hand.

  “I take it this is your doing?” Kalian said out loud, aware that ALF would be listening.

  A strand of nanocelium grew into his translator again. “We’ll talk later. For now just get us out of here.” ALF’s tone was soft, as if the A.I. understood Kalian’s state of mind.

  “Is Malekk dead?” Kalian had to know before he did anything else.

  There was a long pause before ALF replied. “No.”

  Kalian sighed and let his head fall back into the seat. They had destroyed the Starforge and protected the human and indeed the Conclave races from a super weapon of mass destruction. But with Esabelle dead, it felt as if it were all for nothing.

  “This is Kalian Gaines aboard the Rackham,” he hailed the Sentinel. “I could really do with a lift...”

  The escape pod hurtled through the Helteron Cluster putting as much distance between Malekk and the Sentinel as possible. ALF’s control of the exo-suit had almost tied both of their fates to the Starforge, now one with the local star. The exo-suit had broken the damaged view-port right before it escaped into the ventilation system. Malekk had been forced to use his new powers to tether hims
elf to the floor while the bridge’s contents were sucked into space and vaporised by the sun.

  Malekk injected the shuttle’s control display with nanocelium, commanding the nanites to wriggle free of his host’s hands and infect the ship, giving him wireless control. He sat back in the chair, very aware of his relaxed Terran-like position. It was a disgusting thing to inhabit such a being, though not without its perks. Of all the species he had ever sampled there had been none quite as powerful as the Terran. He whipped his head to the side to try and dispel such thoughts; they bred individuality, a forbidden state of existence.

  The Vanguard’s dominating voice still echoed inside his head, reminding him that his release from the whole was only temporary, though such thoughts made Malekk think about his master’s existence. Even the venerable Vanguard had its own individuality, separate from the whole, from the master of them all. Malekk whipped his head again to rid himself of the thoughts and curiosities. He had never had such ideas, or even an idea. Malekk was part of the Vanguard; his thoughts were Malekk’s thoughts. Their primary mission was to prepare the way for the whole. Their secondary mission was to hunt down the heretic.

  Suddenly life didn’t feel so simple.

  It was the Terran - Malekk could feel it. By inhabiting this particular body, he was on a clock that counted down to insanity and loss of control. The organic worm screamed inside the confines of his mental prison, slamming his hands and feet into the walls, cracking them. Malekk did his best to fill in the cracks and keep the Terran at bay. They really were cancerous.

  The empty vastness of space stared back at him through the circular view-port. Malekk decided it was the quiet of his surroundings that made his new mind wander. He needed to be occupied, fulfilling his master’s errand. With a mental command, Malekk set course for the nearest Protocorps owned planet. It was a setback to have lost the Starforge, but he already knew that Protocorps had followed the ‘prophet’s’ instructions exactly. The Vanguard had released three new cubes into the galaxy through the Starforge’s portal, and in so doing, set the fate of the Conclave and its human protectors.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The pristine medical bay inside the Sentinel was a stark contrast to Kalian’s ash-coated face and hands, smeared with blood from previously healed cuts. The medics had left him to be alone with Esabelle’s body, now cleaned and dressed in a white gown only a shade paler than her skin. Her black hair lay over her chest in a perfect straight line. Kalian had seen her meditate many times, but to see her so still was unnerving.

  The med bay door parted and four booming feet thundered into the room. Kalian hadn’t even bothered to expand his awareness into the great ship, too exhausted to care. Still, he didn’t need Terran abilities to know the High Charge was standing behind him.

  “I’m sorry it came to this,” Uthor said with his gravelly voice.

  Kalian’s anger bubbled to the surface. “You should be.” He half turned and saw that Uthor was taken aback by the response. “Another one of my people has died trying to keep your precious civilisation safe. How many more deaths will it take for you people to pull your head out of your ass and see the shit-storm coming our way?”

  Uthor lifted his chin. “I have been reviewing the data and come to a similar conclusion.”

  The High Charge’s reply silenced Kalian’s sharp retort, ready and waiting on the edge of his lips. He hadn’t expected any level of understanding from the Highclave’s lapdog. Kalian tried to let go of his anger but couldn’t seem to unclench his fists, with Esabelle’s body so close.

  “I will be presenting my findings and suspicions with the Highclave,” Uthor continued. “What was that weapon? It destroyed the Gommarian with a single shot, and our scans reported a space time distortion inside the star. My chief engineers are telling me that a wormhole was opened...” Uthor’s expression was grave.

  Kalian remembered the origins of the Conclave and the wormhole technology that accidentally wiped out the race that once inhabited the capital planet. Seeing such feats of engineering used just for destruction, rather than exploration, would be harrowing.

  “It’s called a Starforge.” Kalian couldn’t be bothered getting into it. “I take it the Highclave will want to see me about... everything?”

  “We are on our way to Ch’ket, where the rest of your people are being housed. The Marillion will meet us there.”

  “Then I’ll explain everything when we meet. Are my people safe?” Kalian felt bad for not thinking about them. He had assumed ALF had taken care of them before hijacking the Gommarian and sending the ancient ship to its death.

  “Their location within Ch’ket’s rings remains a secret for now,” Uthor explained. “But the destruction of the Gommarian will be something the Highclave wishes to share with the people. Upon hearing this, the populace will demand to know where the humans are being kept. There is still a great deal of fear surrounding your kind. The Highclave will no doubt reveal the habitation on Ch’ket within a matter of hours, to show transparency with the various governments. Relocation will be required, though the destination is yet to be decided. Again, I will speak to the Highclave on the matter.”

  “Has there been any word from Li’ara and Roland?” Kalian kept the question vague, unsure how much Uthor knew. He didn’t want to compromise their mission by giving their location away.

  “You mean with regards to the attack on Protocorps Headquarters?” Uthor sounded unimpressed. “The A.I., or whatever it was, has been destroyed. I am yet to receive an official word on your companions.”

  Kalian couldn’t hide his concern for their wellbeing. He needed to know they were safe, that Li’ara was safe. It seemed stupid now that they had split up the way they did. Either Esabelle or he should have gone with one of them instead of leaving them to fight without Terran abilities to help. Kalian turned to face Esabelle again and realised how disastrous that would have been as well. It had taken both of them to fight Malekk and Garrett, and they still didn’t defeat Malekk in the end, even with ALF’s help. Li’ara or Roland wouldn’t have lasted two minutes on that bridge.

  “It’s not going to seem like it now, but destroying that cube just saved every planet in the Conclave.” Kalian truly believed that. He didn’t know what its long-term plan had been for the cube inside Protocorps, but its connection to the entire Conclave made it a deadly threat.

  “We shall see.”

  Kalian didn’t have the energy to argue with the Raalak. “I’m taking Esabelle to the Rackham.”

  “You know we’re going to keep the ship.”

  Kalian faced Uthor, his expression as stony as the Raalak’s. “No, you’re not.” He picked up Esabelle’s body and made for the exit without waiting for a reply.

  Captain Fey strode along the outer corridor of their new habitation in hopes of out-pacing Laurence Wynter, who harassed her every step. The stark corridor was lined with bay windows allowing them a view of the rings and the planet below. Only an hour had passed since their presence had been broadcast to the Conclave and the news ships had flocked. Of course the security immediately tripled and kept the vultures at bay, clearing the space around their new home.

  Wynter was becoming out of breath. “I think it’s highly inappropriate for you to meet with Kalian alone. The council, or at least myself, should be present.”

  “You don’t know Mr Gaines, Laurence.” Fey had no patience for the man. “Telarrek has informed me of Esabelle’s death, which can only mean they’ve gone through hell. I assure you, Kalian will kick you out without even lifting a finger.”

  The captain couldn’t even bring herself to smile at Wynter’s speechless expression. Esabelle was a great asset and the perfect mentor to Kalian, but she was also a friend. There had been many sleepless nights where the captain had wandered the corridors of the Gommarian, battling her anxiety at the thought of all her responsibility, and Esabelle would be there, apparently without need of sleep. The Terran always offered words of comfort and wisdom,
betraying her ancient lifespan. Esabelle had always carried a quiet power with her, filling any room she entered. How could she be dead? The captain willed Telarrek to be wrong.

  Wynter cleared his throat and practically skipped to keep up. “Well I assume you will relay everything he tells you to the council, in detail?”

  Fey snapped.

  The captain whirled on Wynter and pinned him to the bay window with a strength she didn’t know she still had. Her forearm stretched over his collar bone, partially constricting his ability to breathe.

  “You and your precious council!” Captain Fey wanted to say everything she thought about the ridiculous group of diplomats. Esabelle was dead and all they cared about was control. She could take their power away in a heartbeat and the people would be thankful for it. Taking total military control of humanity’s remains was not an option she could give into - she had promised herself that for six months now. “Get out of my sight...” Fey pulled back and let a very shocked Laurence Wynter slink away.

  Before continuing down the corridor, Captain Fey let her head roll back while she took a breath. Breaking that moron’s nose would have been the most satisfying feeling she could imagine. Fey let the thought go and made her way to the med-bay on the seventh level, passing only UDC guards along the way. Naydaalan stood in the way of the door, holding his spear to one side.

  “Captain...” The Novaarian bowed his head and stepped aside.

  Kalian and Telarrek had their backs to her on the far side of the bay, both of them looking through the glass wall into the treatment room. Esabelle’s body lay on the table dressed in white. The captain’s eyes were quickly drawn to the cuts and bruises on the Terran’s beautiful face. One look at Kalian was proof that they really had been through hell; he was smeared with blood and ash, his hair matted with sweat. He had the look of a defeated man, beaten down and broken.

 

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