by Ian Woodhead
Why did he have to possess The Touch? It had brought him nothing but misery, humiliation, and death. Walish Din was a nobody, a waste of skin and down, who would probably have to share a plot once he did get to the Plains of Gopin. Knowing his bad luck, they might not even grant him that.
Thanks to this unwanted curse, he saw them incinerating his spawn donors before they even reached his settlement. He just did not understand why none of them would listen to his warnings. Why did none of them believe him? It just did not make any sense. They knew he had this curse of foresight.
He turned his paws over. Most of the damage inflicted upon his flesh when that burning wooden post had dropped down was already beginning to heal. Only one large blister remained whole. Walish Din carefully popped the tight bubble before he wiped the clear fluid down the side of his leg. His species possessed an incredibly fast metabolism, meaning that when by the sun rose to kiss the twin moons, his body should be almost repaired. If the hunters in the forest did not eat him first.
Walish Din got back onto his feet and limped towards the edge of the dark forest. It came as a scant blessing to know that The Touch would give him plenty of advance warning of any attack from the woodland predators by making him watch as they tore him into pieces before consuming his warm flesh. There was also the worrying notion of being unable to stop the prophecy from coming true. Walish Din had not been able to stop the orange dragons from murdering everybody he knew.
The trees before him had been here since before the dawn of their culture. It was written that some ancient race of aliens had visited their planet with the intention of conquering their world, but the Gods had come down from the vast plains and taught these aggressors about the value of love for the land, about how life rewards life. Before leaving, to return to their home-world, they planted these trees, native to their world, as a gift of thanks.
As a shepherd, he had seen how packs of spine-raptors run down herds of wild glikgliks, catching the fouls and tearing them apart. It didn’t look like life rewarding life from where he was standing. His spawn donors had once explained that the Gods only allowed the predators to take the slow and the weak. It enabled the glikglik herds to thrive because only the strongest were able to pass on their best bits of the species to their offspring.
Walish Din rested his head against the smooth, grey trunk. He looked away from the now smouldering remains of his settlement and watched two leathery night-gliders dance through the twisting branches, high above his head. He wasn’t the strongest and he certainly wasn’t the fastest Diannin. The only reason he had staved off death was this cursed touch.
It was also said that the tree-planters were large in stature with orange armour covering their bodies. Walish Din shook his head before following the old path that led through the thick forest. He needed to stop thinking about stupid fairy stories and try to figure out how he would travel to the capital and arrive before the orange dragons turned every member of his species into a lump of charcoal.
He walked under the thick interlacing canopy of twisted branches, crushing the grass pods and Fline bulbs beneath his feet. Their sweet perfume took away the memory of the burning houses and charred bodies that Walish Din ran through in order to get away from those monsters.
How could the Gods allow this travesty to continue? If they left the plains to teach those other alien aggressors the value of peace, then why are they not down here already, stopping this new batch of aliens from annihilating anything that moved? It sounded like a cruel thing to say, but Walish Din did not care about those other worlds. As far as he was concerned, he would not shed a tear if every world burned if he knew it would bring back is spawn donors and the elders.
Not that he had that many tears left in his body to shed. He stopped again, this time besides a fallen spinner tree. He guessed the Gods were in as much shock as him. They were probably very busy right now, getting every new spirit processed. It wasn’t every day when an entire tribe suddenly appeared on the Plains.
“Would you really let all the other worlds burn?”
The young Diannin screamed before throwing his body behind the spinner tree. He thought he was alone in here! Why had he not sensed another Diannin? More to the point, why did this new voice sound so amused? This was not the occasion to be joyous about anything.
He raised his head above the rotting bark and scanned the immediate area. Apart from the two night-gliders who had stopped their dancing to stare at him, there was nobody there. Walish Din wondered if the stress had finally scrambled his mind. Perhaps he was going insane, or perhaps none of this had really happened. He idly plucked a grass pod and pushed his claw through the brown casing. Perhaps if he wished hard enough, then Walish Din would wake up and he would be back in his hammock with his annoying herd of glikgliks outside his tent.
“Perhaps if you stopped feeling sorry for yourself and got back on your feet, you’d be a little closer to meeting me.”
Walish Din snapped his head to the side and found himself staring at a human female sitting on the end of the spinner tree. She too had the remains of a grass pod in between her slender pink fingers. “How did you sneak up on me?” The Diannin got back on his feet and did his best not to look so vulnerable. It wasn’t helped by the human giggling when he lost his footing and almost fell back into the leaf litter.
“You are the one from my dream.”
She nodded. “Well, kinda. She is still on the other planet, probably going through the same trauma as you.” The female picked up another grass pod, flicked off the brittle head, and watched with interest as the pod wings opened up and carried the seeds up into the air. “They chose her planet for a birthing world as well. Still, it could have been a lot worse.” She dropped the stem, jumped onto the tree, and walked along the top, using her arms as balance. “They could have marked her planet for extraction. It’s what will happen to the rest of the occupied worlds in the section of the galaxy.”
“I don’t understand any of this.”
“Of course you don’t, silly. You’re just a simple shepherd. Don’t let it concern you. Look, Walish Din. By the way, has any girl said that you’re really cute?” She giggled again. “Sorry, no idea where that came from. Anyway, it’s like this. These weird aliens have just started their mating cycle. They scoop up whole populations and transfer them all to worlds where they think they’ll be safe. You see, and this is the clever bit, the ones that are displaced are altered inside and become incubators of the alien babies.” She jumped down and sat in front of him. “It’s all really icky and gross. To stop anyone from messing about with their grand plan, they also choose a warrior species to guard over them. This time, they chose the Gizanti.”
“I want you to leave now.”
“I bet you do.” She leaned over and grabbed a piece of the spinner tree’s bark. “You know what they say about life rewarding life? Well, it’s true. Take a look at this.”
She pulled the bark up revealing the rotten insides. Instead of seeing decomposing wood, Walish Din saw thousands of pale worm-like organisms running the length of the trunk. They all moved in one direction, towards her hand when she waved it up and down.
“The tendrils burrow up through the middle of the grass pod stem and deposit a seed of their own inside the pod. To stop the glikgliks from eating the pods, they secrete a foul-tasting gel which covers the top of the pod. Life rewarding life, you see? What you’re involved in is no different, just a bit bigger, I guess.”
Walish Din took one step back, wondering if he would be able to lose this human in the forest. He had gone mad and this was the proof. “You’re not real,” he said. “You can’t be real.”
The girl laughed. “Of course I’m not real, you silly little shepherd. I’m just another aspect of your fractured personality, with maybe just a touch of something else. If you want, you can call me Miss Smith, or The Voice of Reason. I’m fine though, I’ll answer to both.”
“Answer to both? What I want you to do is to go a
way! Just leave me alone!” he shouted, vaguely aware that his yelling had just frightened away the night-gliders. He had also just announced his presence to every hunter inside this forest. Walish Din spun around. No, he couldn’t be blamed for that. If she hadn’t shown up, he wouldn’t have had to start shouting. The Diannin kept his back to her in the hope that she would take the hint and go back to wherever she came from. He no longer knew what he wanted anymore. In fact, the temptation to lie down right here and go to sleep so he could rest his aching mind and body sounded exactly what he should be doing right now.
Walish Din stayed still and made no sound, listening to the wind as it whistled through the branches. The distant roar from a large spine-raptor caused the returning night-gliders to fly off again. He could not hear the girl’s irritating giggle, and that is all that concerned him. The Diannin turned back and smiled when he found he was alone again.
He walked back to the fallen spinner tree. The Diannin turned around intending to sit down when he changed his mind. The thought of all those vile worm-like things inside it made him feel sick. He did not want those things to sneak through the bark and start winding up around his body.
That spine-raptor took up the call again. This time another voice answered it, then another and another. Walish Din jumped onto the spinner tree, trying to work out where the hunters could be. They all howled as one, their combined voices chilled his blood. They were after him. He did not know where they were, although he guessed that they would be approaching him from all sides. It was how they hunted.
“Do you still want me gone, my little grass-eater?” the young human said with a smile. She had retaken her position, sitting on the edge of the fallen tree. “If I leave you again, you’ll end up as dinner for your planet’s equivalent to werewolves. You do know that there are some seriously fucked-up animals on this world.” She raised her head. “Oh, there’s one doggy.” She raised her arm and waved.
Walish Din was beside himself with terror. Unlike the encounter at settlement, he could not escape from this one. He was dead.
The human girl then stood up, leaned over and pulled up the bark again. “Come on, in you get, grass-eater. The glikgliks hate the scent of these places and so do the spine-raptors.”
That annoying smile dropped from the human’s face when he refused to move, despite now being able to make out two shaggy heads poking out from between the trees.
“Get in here or die!” she yelled.
Walish Din whimpered, shuffling his feet through the leaf litter, heading towards those waving tendrils while the spine-raptors inched their way towards him.
Chapter Six
Trooper Cole made his way down the stone stairs, smiling to himself. This was almost like it was before the outburst, before he saw the Empire’s true colours, before the appearance of Mr. Smith. It was difficult to remember what his existence was like before he walked into his life. Looking back, Trooper Cole should not even be alive considering the huge amount of stupid risks he had taken during his career.
He reached the bottom and followed the usual procedure in these circumstances. He might be on a rescue mission, but Danny had no idea of what danger the others could be facing, and after his encounter with the dead guy, he could not afford to take any chances.
That made him smile. Had his incarceration turned him into a more effective soldier? There was a big slice of irony right there. Danny altered the fire selector from safe to single shot then dropped into a crouching position before he slowly peered around the corner. He saw a short, wide corridor with three more open doorways, two on his side with the other one facing the other two. There was no cover available and he had no idea where the other units were. He turned and considered his options. Danny saw no other routes so logic suggested that the men would be in one of those three rooms.
His old self would have just walked straight into the first room, gun at the ready, and shot anything not in an Imperial uniform. Thankfully, he was not his self. There was also the factor that he wasn’t in an Imperial uniform, so if any of those idiots were as reckless as he used to be, there would be a good chance that Trooper Cole would end up like that poor bastard on the floor above him.
Danny got up and crept over to the foot of the stairs and picked up a handful of stones from the floor before returning to the spot by the corner of the wall. He rolled the smallest stone across the corridor floor and listened for anything that would give away their position. Sure enough, a hiss of whispered conversion reached his ear, followed by the noise of one of them getting up.
The marines weren’t in any real danger down here, the cowards were hiding, cowering in one of the rooms. He glanced down at the antiquated weapon and understood why the Imperial armoury issued these guys with junk. They were not real soldiers, just jumped-up guards in a fancy uniform.
One of the remaining marines had left the safety of one of the rooms and was now walking towards the stairs. Danny sighed to himself. Their lack of professionalism proved he was right. Danny threw another stone, just to get the idiot’s attention then waited. Sure enough, the marine waked straight past Danny’s position.
“No words, no movement,” he hissed, digging the gun’s muzzle into the small of the marine’s back. Danny leaned close to the man’s ear. “You have not had such a great time here. Still, do not worry. I am here to save you from your shadows. Now, I want you to scream.”
“You what?”
Trooper Cole jabbed the gun hard against the man’s flesh, taking satisfaction at the quiet moan that left the marine’s mouth. “A scream. Just remember that there is a minor heretic holding a gun on you. I am under sentence of death. There is no telling what I am capable of doing to you, young man.” To reinforce the exaggerated stereotype, the guard’s old drill sergeant and the chapel house priests would have told the young recruit, he leaned forward and gently placed the guard’s ear between his teeth and bit down hard enough to break the skin.
The resulting scream was loud enough to cause Danny’s own ears to protest at the sudden noise. He flipped the man around, fastened his hand over the marine’s mouth, and flattened his back against the wall.
Like bumbling ducklings squeaking for their mother, the rest of the guards raced past him and their terrified man. To make his disgust of their behaviour complete, Danny saw that only one of them had brought a weapon. Trooper Cole silently waited for one of them to notice him before he slid the marine’s knife from the man’s scabbard and held it against his captive’s neck. “Drop the gun.” He glared at the squadron leader. “I want all of you to get onto the floor. With the exception of you.”
If the hate Danny saw in that squadron leader’s gaze was solid, he would be dead by now. “No more warnings. Do as you’re told.”
The squadron leader shook his head. “You are a minor heretic. It is forbidden for you to handle the revered weapons of our Glorious Empire. If you release our brother and gently place the weapon on the ground, your punishment will not be a danger to your life.”
“You really did swallow the whole indoctrination rubbish. I am trying to save you all from a terrible death.” He paused. “Okay, apart from this one.” Danny applied a little more pressure on the blade, thankful that this knife didn’t possess the same keen edge as the Gizanti knife. The marine in his grasp let out a little squeak. Danny almost pitied the coward. The marine honestly thought he was going to die. “You do know that I will kill him if you do not obey me.”
The squadron leader shrugged. “His life is of little importance. We are but grains of sands upon the beach. The God-Emperor will tread upon our bodies, and we can only hope that we offer the soles of his feet a shared comfort.”
Danny noticed the uncomfortable looks shared by the other soldiers. “You really believe the rubbish spouted from the mouth of those fools in our chapel houses who tried to fill our young heads with doctrine.”
“If you continue to blaspheme, I will have no other choice but to terminate your worthless existence.”<
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The marine holding the other gun took one step towards Danny. He was about to fire off a warning shot when the marine sighed heavily and placed his weapon on the second step.
“Pick that up, marine! I order you to kill the heretic.”
The marine shook his head. “He is holding my friend. I cannot lose another friend today.”
“You dare to defy a direct order?”
The squadron leader looked as though he was about to burst a blood vessel. “What happened on the level above?”
“Silence, heretic!” screamed the squadron leader.
“No. It is you who should cease talking,” replied the now disarmed marine. “If it was not for your cowardice and incompetence, we would not be in this situation.”
The squadron leader’s hand reached for his sidearm, only for two others to grab the man’s arms and pin him against the wall.
Danny released his captive. He guessed that the ongoing event would look more favourable if the marines could focus all of their grievances upon the marine now struggling to free himself while muttering words like termination, traitors, and mutiny under his breath.
“You left a brother up there!” said the disarmed marine. “He was dead yet still alive.”
“He had become a deviant, possessed by alien demons.”
“Then you should have shot him again and again until the soldier went up to the grounds of the fallen heroes, instead of running away.” He looked over at Danny. “The heretic is correct. You are a coward.”
“My name is Danny Cole,” he replied, “and I am no heretic. As for the fate of your brother, he has now joined the fallen heroes.” Danny was glad that Cladinus had advised him to wipe the dead man’s blood from his skin. It would have been awkward to explain how their friend had finally died. He did not want the remaining troops to be alienated before he took charge. He walked over to the struggling man and slipped out the squadron leader’s sidearm. “I had no idea these relics were still in service,” he said. “Your band of under-equipped and poorly trained men do not deserve to be involved in a mission which will determine the very fate of our beloved Empire.”