Matakeo: Echoes of the Future

by Daniel L. Newcomb

  Stevens looked from the detainee to the sergeant out of the corner of his right eye, then back again. He activated the scanner. Softly it hummed for a few seconds before operating quietly.

  At first, the guard hesitated. He knelt down to get the scanner close to the box. His forward motion caused him to lose his balance. A knee hit the metal deck with a thump. Not only did he catch himself but he made a point to not touch the box. Stevens was not about to get near it a second time even at the cost of being subordinate to his sergeant. When he fell he let go of the scanner. The device slid across the floor and deactivated. He had hurt his knee and found it difficult to stand up.

  The detained man watched the sergeant step forward and pushed Stevens out of the way. The subordinate toppled over.

  “Sergeant, call your shift supervisor. He can identify me.” Again, the man in the black cloak did his best to buy more time. This time he had lied.

  Render gave the man a go to hell look. “I do not need a civilian giving me orders or my superior holding my hand.”

  “Hey, Render. Maybe we should ask the lieutenant,” another guard interjected.

  “I don’t think so,” he forced a snarl through clenched teeth.

  Render retrieved the scanner and bent over to scan the box. At the same time he placed his other hand upon the mysterious crate to support his weight. Simultaneously, there was a blinding flash of white light as his hand came in contact with the metal casing. Within the confines of the metal box, an electrical current came to life. The energy it released was more than the sergeant could handle. Instantaneously, his charred body hurtled one hundred feet to the other side of the platform. The corpse rolled several times before coming to a complete stop.

  Everyone’s eyes were blinded with the exception of the man whom possessed the box. The explosive device was designed to activate a shield behind the discharge. Unfortunate for the security detail, a weapon had been missed during the pat down. The detainee retrieved his echo blade from the front of his trousers and powered it on. A pyramid of sound emerged from one end. Holding the hilt with both hands, he aimed the pinnacle toward the floor. Slamming it into the metal decking caused the room to explode with what sounded like sub-space depth charges. A tremendous aftershock followed. Like waves crashing on a beach so did this energy flow outward from the point of contact with the floor. With hellacious force, everyone in the path of the ripple effect was thrown off their feet and through the air. Every bone in all seven of the guards bodies were smashed to smithereens.

  Camouflaged in the shadow of his hood, an evil smile of satisfaction appeared upon the man’s face. Casually, he strolled toward the security gate. He stopped briefly to gaze upon what was left of the impatient Sergeant Render. The body heaped upon the deck like a clump of crap. There were no defining features present other than his eyes. They were protruding profusely from the skull and were three times bigger now compared to when he was alive. What was obviously once a hand had a couple of wires from the scanner encrusted into it. He was disfigured beyond recognition.

  Ten minutes after securing his craft, he put several thousand miles between Puritania and himself. He took a deep breath. The exhale was slow and deliberate. Once his ship came out of hyperspace near Lumi-controlled space, he radioed ahead to report the outcome of his mission.

  “Please give me a secure channel to the Banimpire.”

  “One moment, please.” This was followed by static. Seconds later…

  “Yes?” Malign asked.

  “I am on my way home.”

  “And the mission?”

  “I was unable to find the item in the Temple, my Banimpire.”

  “Galazian condemn,” she swore. “Hurry home, Mecurial.”

  Moving to a window, the Lumi ruler overlooked a plush courtyard. From this viewpoint, she could see the entire garden all the way to the palace wall. Over one thousand species of plant life and trees beautified the garden in a stunning array of colors; sharp contrasts from the purple and yellow leaves of the shriek tree to the gold and red blooms of a boom brush. The blue and silver blades of grass were luscious and soft. Millions of particles circulated in the air just above the ground as several blooming collections of perennials issued forth their micro spores of pollen into the air. They collected upon the lawn in multicolor patches. For a fleeting moment, she marveled at the one thousand and eight hundred square feet of breathtaking beauty.

  Several attendants were scattered about performing their daily tasks. A male worker was trimming shrubbery on the far end by the main gate. Close on his heels was a youngster whose duty was to pick up the cuttings and put them in a cart. An older male was watering exotic plants. Several others were spraying dirt and bird dung from off of the walkways. A flock of Melinkos fluttered about searching the moist soil for a grub or seed. Several small, rodent-like creatures scurried from under one shrub to another.

  She smelled the damp, musty odor that rose up to her position on the second floor. It was mixed with the exotic fragrances. She stepped away from the opening and paced the floor, as she anticipated the return of her greatest asset. However, this asset was not her main interest. What he was supposed to acquire was.

  As she passed by a mirror for the third time, she stopped. The three dimensional screen portrayed her image precisely. Long, black fibers flowed down past her shoulders. Shades of blonde and dark red streaked throughout it. The tips of the fiber strands were like tiny, brilliant stars. A smile came across her face as she ran her fingers through the hairs. She marveled at the majestic glow that still emanated from them. Most Lumi women at her age would have lost the glow.

  The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. She realized her eyebrows and lashes had turned a dark shade of yellow. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Spent oxygen slowly released from her lungs as she relaxed. Upon reopening her eyes, she noticed her facial hair had turned back to its natural color of black. She sighed.

  For a moment, the female was caught up in the beauty of herself. That is, before an irritating noise distracted her attention. At first, she believed the noise to be coming from somewhere else in the room. She looked down at her own hands. One was grabbing at the fingers of the other. One by one, she had pulled at them. A popping occurred in the knuckle joints every time.

  “Ah!” she exclaimed to no one but herself. She reached for a sachet of perfume before returning to the window. Squeezing the bulb between her thumb and index finger forced air into the chamber. An exotic fragrance was issued forth upon her nape. Micro portions of puritanium from the perfume penetrated the pores of her skin. Over the course of many years she had consumed so much of this age defying mineral she could no longer tell when small amounts were introduced into her body.

  3

  Darius Talek completed his morning workout as the two minor suns welcomed the day. Light shined in through the terrace door. His chest muscles burned as he counted out his final pushups; two ninety-eight, two ninety-nine, three hundred. On the last one he pushed harder and forced himself up into a standing position.

  Afterward, he grabbed a towel from off of the sit-up bench. He turned and viewed the oncoming day through the glass door. For a moment, he glanced at the peaks of mountain ranges visible through the dome.

  He dabbed at his forehead with the towel, and then tossed it back onto the bench. Making his way into the kitchen he anticipated a refilling of his morning drink. There he pulled a cup from the counter. With his other hand he lifted a steaming pot of vynab and filled the cup two-thirds full.

  This was one of the small pleasures in life he really enjoyed. The aroma stimulated his sense of smell and in turn caused inflamed sinus passages to tingle. Darius could not imagine ever starting his day without a cup of hot vynab: it always gave his morning a dynamic boost like nothing else could. By the time the first cup was consumed his body regained some energy. Vynab Heaven, the name brand he purchased, had small traces of puritanium added to its short list of ingredients. When the cup
was half gone, he refilled it. The caramel liquid looked as if it would slosh over the rim of the cup. Vapors of almond flavoring tantalized his sense of smell.

  With mug in hand, he walked toward the balcony. Depressing a button on the wall caused the glass door to recess into the wall. The terrace was approximately seventy-two square feet that provided enough room for a reclining deck chair and a potted plant. The air outside his apartment was no different than on the inside. All of the city’s air is manufactured.

  Darius lay back on his chair and watched what was left of the sunrise. A lone bead of sweat ran down behind his left ear as he tipped his cup for a sip. The view was awesome. Daylight was creeping over the horizon in the eastern sky. The last remnants of night slowly disappeared into the west. Streams of radiance from the sun Titan cast silhouettes off the orange-brown peaks that towered in the distance. Outside the dome a breeze whisked the purple and orange sand granules into the air. The shadows darted from the landscape as Bantam and Lilliputian, the other two suns of the three-sun, became visible in Puritania's sky. The beauty of the event lasted for another thirteen minutes or so before the automatic tinting activated and covered the dome. The darkened layer was used to protect the citizens from the harmful ultraviolet rays of the three suns.

  For Darius, the evening hours were the best for viewing the sky anyway. Gazing at the stars helped him to relax. At the age of eight, he would stare into the night lights. The idea of distant planets and alien civilizations thrilled him as a child. Dreams of space travel were shared between him and a close friend, Rimsen.

  His mind drifted off into deep thought, albeit to the point of a trance-like state. No longer was Darius aware of his surroundings. Not even his spiced vynab. Recalling his childhood caused him to lose track of time. A quarter of an hour had passed when his thoughts were interrupted by a soft musical score.

  His com-link was playing a snippet from one of his favorite tunes. This song was programmed to sound whenever one particular individual called. He cleared his throat and then spoke into the device.

  “Hello?”

  “Darius?” There was a quivering in her voice.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Something terrible has happened,” she forced the words in between sobs.

  “Take a deep breath and relax, Teron.” In a roundabout way he told her to get to the point, but with compassion.

  “I can’t believe it. Priest Catharsis has been murdered.”

  “What?” Darius attempted to rationalize the information. There was a sudden plummet in his heart for the loss of Catharsis. He did his best to bury it in the back of his mind. A sense of loyalty to his calling was stirred within him. He needed to go to the scene and have a look, convincing himself he was doing it for his lost mentor. Catharsis had been one of his favorite instructors during his days at the academy. He had the utmost respect for this elder. This man of the cloth was like a second father.

  “Where did this happen?”

  “In the Altar Room.”

  “Have the civilian authorities been notified?” Darius asked.

  “Abdominous said he was going to contact them.”

  The mere mentioning of that name sent a chill down his spine. A feeling fueled by a righteous hate, not fear; a sensation reminding him of his desire to someday change the course of his future that had been adversely affected by past events.

  “I feel as if I need to look into this.”

  “I really do not think that is a good idea,” Teron voiced. “I am sure Abdominous does not want to see you there.”

  “Catharsis would have wanted me to do it. I am going.”

  “Be careful, Darius.” With that said, she disconnected.

  The patio door slid shut behind him as he reentered the living quarters. He casually made his way into the bedroom. In the corner opposite his bed stood a clothing locker. He opened it. Located within its confines was a Matakeo outfit. Overlooking the cloak, pants and body armor, he retrieved several items: the essentials.

  First was a pair of boots. The black footwear was similar in style to those sold to the public. However, these were costly and designed to protect him from the quake effect. The quake effect is an anomaly that occurs whenever the blade of his weapon makes contact with solid objects. Once he slid his feet into the boots they formed automatically to fit him.

  Then he pulled out a helmet. The gloss coating it sported stood out in a crowd. An embossed lightning bolt streaked over the ridge of the head piece. The area surrounding the ears bubbled out. High-tech foam filled these cylinders. Temporarily, he placed the helmet upon his head.

  Darius felt reverence for the next item he extracted from the locker. This was the utility belt that housed his weapons. A pistol was holstered on the left. An echo blade, the sword of a Matakeo, was hung in a clip on the right. He had taken it out to admire it on several occasions over the last seventeen months. Holding the weapon, even briefly, helped him to retain an inner peace. The sensational thrill as to how precisely perfect the hilt fit within his grip made him feel partially complete. Nonetheless, it felt good.

  A mirror was attached to the inside of the locker door. Darius stood in front of it. Without peering down at the black leather belt he held in his hands, he eased the pointed end through the buckle. Placing the stem of the buckle into one of the five holes punched into the belt secured it snugly around his waist. Once the hip hugger was in place, he drew the weapon from out of its rest. With pure delight, he turned it over and over within the palm of his right hand. Darius returned the weapon to its compartment and made ready to exit his dwelling.

  “Lights off,” he said as he stepped out of his apartment. The door automatically closed behind him. Then he made his way to an elevator at the end of the hallway.

  4

  A sand-tram pulled out of the station at Settlers Quarters on its way to the Gardens. The filled to capacity car hummed across the tracks. Darius was seated in the first car three rows back from the main door. He was attired in casual wear and a helmet rested in his lap. There was nothing of interest to look at as he stared out the window of the moving tram. Nothing he had not already seen countless times before. Many thoughts burdened his mind.

  The light of day vanished as the vehicle streaked into the tunnel. When it emerged on the other side it was filled with the tram station lights inside the Gardens. A bell sounded. Then a man’s voice came over the intercom to announce their arrival at the station. Darius waited for the other passengers to exit. Then he stood up from his seat and made for the door. He nodded his head towards the pilot as he passed by him. The uniformed driver acknowledged with a two fingered salute. It went unnoticed.

  Darius pressed through the crowd of people boarding the tram. A revolting aroma of cigarette smoke, hot dogs and sweat hit him like a wave as he passed through the food court. Customers were purchasing on-the-go breakfasts from several different vendors. The din of noise rivaled that of a small sports stadium.

  An out-of-place alien caught his attention. The Slumpshrill stood on one side of a ticket booth. He had his brief case flat on the floor with both paws perfectly placed upon the luggage. With less than perfect posture, the alien orated in a loud voice about a tragedy that would befall the inhabitants in the Milky Way galaxy.

  Darius chuckled to himself as he passed by the zealous alien. How does he keep his case from being crushed under his massive frame? He was only five feet the other side of the Slumpshrill when it said something that caused him to stop.

  “Ooh,” he exclaimed loudly, “Matakeo.”

  Darius turned and looked back. Gazing into the alien’s eyes was as if he viewed a million galaxies sustained within the pupils. Staring into infinity, he was mesmerized for what seemed like a really long time. The hairs on the back of his nape stood on edge and a chill shot down his spine.

  “A human of great significance!” The alien threw both hands in the air to emphasize his words. “You will find a man of light burdens. This one holds
the key to a treasure that will surely defeat the shroud of darkness to come.” When the Slumpshrill was finished, he stepped down from his soapbox. He picked up his brief case and disappeared into the swell of people.

  Darius was caught up in the moment. Staring in the direction the alien had walked off in; he concluded that its words were nothing more than nonsense. He was surprised, that for as loud as the creature was, no one else seemed to have noticed him.

  Darius made his way through thousands of shoppers and hailed a cab to the other side of the city. Then he walked the last quarter of a mile to the Gardens entrance. There were long lines of people waiting for the elevators. He stepped into one of the capacity filled lifts of shoulder to shoulder people.

  Seconds later, the elevator door opened to the third floor of the Gardens. The upper level was occupied by mostly secretarial offices. However, the main attraction was also located on this level.

  The Museum included exhibits of paintings, statues and artifacts from the Sol System and the Giefan Cluster. Of course, the church had its own diner, retail shops and an arcade located next door. Many souvenirs could be purchased from the shops. The religious items ranged from small-scale models of the temple to posters of the altar. They even sold action figures of the Matakeo. For a salty price, replicas of the echo blade were for sale as well.

  From here, he made his way to a staircase. He descended to the lower levels of the Cathedral. A detail stood waiting at a security gate. The two, young Matakeo were dressed in the traditional red and silver tunics of the Order. There was no reason to assume they could not fight. Both would have the genetic inheritance of a fourth strand of DNA that enabled them to have supernatural strength. Both boys would be schooled and experienced in using deadly force.

  The oldest fixed his eyes upon him when he was within three hundred feet of their position. Judging from his appearance, Darius concluded that he was fourteen years old. A standard half-helmet with face plate covered his head. The helmet had the craftsmanship required to protect the boy’s ears from the sound waves generated from his sword. Even though the weapon was not visible, he was certain an echo blade was concealed within the boy’s garment.