OF CRIMSON INDIGO: TALES OF THE MASTER-BUILDERS

by Grant Fausey

  "Perfect," announced Commander Brant. "We couldn't ask for better timing." Helmer shook his head. "Okay, here's the plan––" Brant forced over the information presenting it to Kyle Helmer. "Target the Cyclone with one of the pulverizing weapons," he said excited, "and make sure you don't miss."

  Brant turned to Jessica and continued: "Plot a course that takes us in front of the tanker, lock the second weapon onto the fueling vessel. The explosion should destroy the attached fighter ... maybe even a second, but don't count on it."

  Jessica nodded. "Fifteen seconds." Brant took tight hold of the controls. "After we fire, Kyle, keep a track of that outside fighter. It should take out after us in a straight line of pursuit. We'll kick in the light engine and fry it as we make our escape."

  "Outstanding! Skipper…”

  Sounds good to me!" answered Helmer. "I'm locking one ... locking two." The lightship pivoted into the attack, bringing its two main weapons to bear on the target. The star yacht held steady, following its previous course. The combat computers installed on the Omar locked onto an easy target. Brant pressed gently on the firing trigger with his finger, depressing the switch. A missile screamed away from the underside of the ship before his finger left the switch leaping from the space plane in a straight line for the Emperor's shuttle.

  Brant pulled the wheel hard over and depressed the button again. A second missile followed the first. "Come to new course," announced Brant, pushing the engine throttles to maximum. "Four ... four ... four ... point two." The main engine ignited in the spherical shaped fighter, firing brilliant blue in the glowing heat of the main thrusters. The star yacht dropped away from the gunship in a microsecond, exploding into an enlarged fireball that carried with it a billion, billion pieces of debris.

  The fighter's path arched, pivoting sharply into a position to be incinerated. Two long, sleek laser bolts leaped out of the nozzle guns, tracing along a direct line from the starship's engine to the tail end of the space plane. The first zipped passed the jumpship without doing any damage; the second, however, impacted the aft hull near the hyper-drive accelerators. Vented gases exhaled from the components sending the exhaust fired, in an outward direction just as the space plane began its acceleration to the speed of light.

  The interceptor maneuvered into a sharp turn, attempting to miss the fiery exhaust but to no avail, its fate sealed in a barrage of debris and deadly shrapnel. The interceptor disintegrated in a double explosion, mocking the detonation of the Cyclone and its escort ships. Finally, the sky went dark and only the twinkling of the distant stars remained.

  For Brant the mission to the Trillian system was over, successfully executed with minimum effort. Brant was a hero or was he? The interior of the space plane fell silent and dark as the light from all the instruments went dim. The main computer exploded in a celebration of sparks. The system went off line, shrouded in a refuge of lingering smoke, hugged low to the deck plates, ruptured pipes, and dissolved circuits. More important, the jumpship was upside down, decelerating from its engine explosion. The laser bolt had impacted close enough to damage the main drive. The ship was a drift in space, traveling at just below the speed of light

  Jessica crawled along the floor, her head bobbing in and out of the smoke as she made her way toward the front of the cabin. She pushed aside the rubble, ducking fallen instrument panels and burnt wires. Helmer was motionless on the floor, hung up side down from his chair in his harness. His instruments crushed in by the impact of his head.

  The fire control panels dangled over his head.

  Jessica checked for a pulse, nothing. Brant moaned in the front of the cabin. "I'm afraid he's dead," she said. Brant pulled himself up and leaned over to look at her from behind a blackened face. He pushed aside a curtain of hanging wires.

  "I'm afraid we're all dead," he answered rather scantly. We've lost the hyper-drive."

  "Hold everything," interrupted Jessica. "I've got a weak pulse here!" The navigator scrambled to save his life, but she couldn't; there wasn't a pulse ... there was nothing at all. "No I don't," she said looking up at Brant. "Help me get this panel off of him."

  The panel slid off almost by itself, hitting the floor with a thud. "Make him as comfortable as you think he should be then take the con will you. I'm going to have to do some rewiring on the out board motors. Maybe we can restore some of main power. If we're lucky, the wire harnesses are still accessible."

  Jessica agreed. "If we're lucky we might just have enough thrust to get us down on some nearby planet." The woman shook her head as Brant slid down the center rail onto the inverted floor, crawling along the ceiling.

  • • •

  Travis stood bewildered, bathed in a rainbow of light on the surface of another world––every extrasensory perception shocked by the ordeal. The flare of the molecular shift sprayed out like tiny raindrops flung from a garden hose, each landing in a ritualistic dance across the surface. After a moment, the radiance was gone leaving only the dark shadows of a moonlit meadow.

  "Welcome to Telta Minor, Travis," whispered Indigo in the voice of Maccon. He was reaching out to his mind like a undefeated gladiator from some unseen mythical god." Travis looked around; he was alone.

  "There’s little time isn't there, Travis?" mocked the bounty hunter’s voice. Travis didn't answer. The young man needed time for the confusion to pass. He wasn’t himself anymore. Any additional thoughts would probably be wrong. "So, your memory returns..." snapped Indigo.

  Travis jumped back and spun around, turning in a circle as he looked for someone nearby to connect with the voice; however, only the moonlit shadows surrounded him. He was completely alone, nothing but trees in any direction. An invisible forest on the northern border of the southern tip of this easterly wind swept island, where he stood facing the west.

  The bounty hunter’s voice, Maccon’s dramatization of the being he would remember prevailed continuing the unwanted summoning of his mind to recall the inevitable. "Maccon–– " he whimpered, questioning his own motives.

  "Travis...." Indigo said with a chuckle.

  "Where are you?" The voice was commanding. "Show yourself I'm not afraid of you."

  Travis lied through his teeth. He was scared stiff. The feelings he had coursing through his body were also coursing through the others. His future was just as much Indigo’s future, his past Indigo’s past. They were one and the same, shaking together.

  "You must seek out a brother of the light, Travis," the bounty hunter told him. "As you have remembered me, so will he remember you." Maccon's voice echoed mysteriously within his psyche. "His name is Kristic Kaa, Travis," I continued. "You will find him here, on this world in the great moving cities that travel here in the dawn."

  "In the morning," shouted Travis. His mind was spinning around, hoping to be able to put a face to the voice in his head. "You mean I have too––" His words churned to a halt. "Travel again." There was no way he wanted to spend the night out in the open. An entire night didn't seem possible, not alone. Not like this.

  "This is crazy," he said saturated with as much as he could understand. "You're not going to leave me out here in the cold, are you?"

  Maccon laughed ... Indigo laughed. "I'm with you always, Travis," he said, gathering to take a form before him. "All you need do is call me."

  "Call ... great! And were am I suppose to find a phone?" he shrieked, "I'm serious––" He became angry. "I don't want to stay out here in the cold."

  "Then remember and you will be warm," Indigo told him simply. The ghostly image of Maccon formed before him in the dim light of his nighttime. "Use the medallion to guide your steps through the night, Travis Creed, find Kristic Kaa. There is nothing to harm you here."

  Travis sat down on the edge of a stump and thought. This was the craziest thing that had ever happen to him. He couldn't believe his own eyes. He was talking to a ghost of someone he thought was alive, like he knew everything there was to know. It was ridicules. His father's medallion slipped from
between his fingers, dangling off the end of his hand. He was still bewildered by the horror he had seen. There was the possibility of insanity working on his mind. He'd cracked; there was a chance he was crazy.

  His misery could cause hallucinations, he thought. After all, he was undergoing a lot of stress, blocking out the reality of his parent's death and all. Maybe it was catching up with him. "You're not Crazy, Travis," added the ghostly image of Maccon, "Take a moment to straighten out your mind then remember. It's the only way to know the truth. You are a knight of the Ronna-Kaa."

  Travis held his head in his hands and wanted to scream. What was a knight of the Ronna-Kaa? "What do you want from me?" he shouted. "Get out of my head, will you!"

  Indigo remained silent for a long time, the thought of losing Travis forever was inconceivable. We needed him strong, not like this ... not a babbling moron. He was obviously stressed; his voice was no guiding light. Travis wasn't receptive.

  What do I do now? He questioned himself.

  "That's up to you, Travis," Indigo answered. "I can no longer interfere."

  "Well––" smiled Travis. "That's a relief. That's the first piece of good news I've heard today!"

  "If only you could understand."

  "Understand what?" huffed Travis, looking at the medallion before sticking it back into his pocket. "I'm crazy! That's what it is: I'm just plain nuts."

  Indigo allowed the embodiment of Maccon to become less transparent and more a part of his reality. He remained silent, allowing Travis to make the decision.

  "What's the matter," asked the bounty hunter, bluntly.

  Travis picked up a twig and tossed it to the ground, standing up. "Damn it," he shouted, setting off across the meadow reluctantly. He was obviously, visibly tired of the entire matter. "This had better be worth it!" he shouted at me. That's all I have to say!"

  "You could save a universe," I whispered.

  The night seemed endless. Travis realized he'd been dreaming, our conversation took place in his subconscious and not his conscious mind. There was a chance he would make the connection at dawn. Indigo had to wait and see. The sky filled with twinkling stars and shades of light that fluttered across the heavens in random patterns. It was a good anomaly like his mind. Never mind, the youth felt like sledge fighting every step of the way. His journey ended at the curved beach of a round lake that graced the horizon. The waves reminded him of his ordeal on Trithen. The waves crashed in, rolling over one another onto the bluish sand, and for the first time, he felt comfortable with his past. A tear for his dead parents and his departed machine brother wiped away the need for equilibrium in his life. He was definably on the edge.

  Indigo knew Maccon didn't dare interfere; he was present in something that Travis couldn't touch like a ghost in his mind, but Travis knew he was there; he couldn't see him, but there was this feeling of another beings presence. Like the great redwood tree that stood above him, he stretched his own long branches out to embrace the sky. Still, the young warrior could feel the existence of life around him, a frog sitting on a lily pad waiting for just the right moment to jump in with both feet. The light drizzle of rain dashing against his head and cheeks. A thin mist over the land, definitely forming a shower and coming rain, the sound of thunder quickened his heart. The approaching storm grew louder with each breath, approaching from the Southeast along the mountain ranges visible in the flashes of the lightning.

  Travis yawned; time for some rest. The rain relaxed him, and allowed him to sleep. Remembering wasn't one of his priorities, but it seemed evident it was important to his success. His biggest fear was seeing his father's face-the sight of burning debris-his mother beside him in the early dead. The thought was gruesome, one not easily forgotten. Then there was Callen's face-a visible terror that brought the epitome of being alone.

  Travis gazed upon the branches, seeing the heavens above him through the trees above him. He followed the long branches with his eyes to the edge of the forest, where they met the lake. Something about it looked so familiar, as if he was in the presence of a greater mind than his own. He made a face at the lake, and let go of the thought, turning his memories to Callen, and what he had told him. He wondered if he really was a replicant ... a doppelganger as he called himself. There was so much to consider, so much to understand or try to understand. It didn't make sense. Callen was his friend from birth and he didn't want to be without him, even if there wasn't a choice––something obsessed him. For being only twenty years old, his life sure was a mess. It wasn't anything like he'd hoped for.

  A CRACK of lightning struck the farthest edge of the lake, a good distance from where he sat on the shoreline. He watched the sparkling glitter cross the surface of the ocean of water before him and heard the pounding of the approaching rain. It was time to find some kind of shelter ... even if it was only a leaf. Then Travis realized something. He pulled out his medallion again from his pocket. The lightning struck the surface, sending a terrible crack of thunder across the land. Travis jumped from the horrendously sound and dropped his medallion into the water just as he remembered seeing Tree huts!

  A smile crossed his face. "Protection from the rain," he announced. The medallion sparkled in the water and Travis wrapped his fingers tightly around its edges, clenching the round surface of the cold medal tightly in his hands as he pulled from the lake. "Okay, lets see what you've got!" he said to the medallion. "Do your stuff." The medallion's sparkled, becoming a shimmering glow that filled the surroundings with a blinding white light. Travis laughed, yelling with excitement.

  "Why didn't I think of this before?"

  "It's a matter of trust, Travis," Indigo answered. "You need to remember."

  The trees lit up, reflecting against the wall of rain and, for an instant, Travis remembered realizing he was relearning what he already knew. He took a step and shivered, something frightened him from within. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was still another presence in his life––one that could cost him his existence. It was dark, shadowless––A blackness so dark it removed the light.

  He remembered a return, a time to fight against an adversary he'd known many times before in another life. It was catching up with him, within him. “Finally, we are a part of him,” said Maccon. It was the strangest feeling young Travis had ever experienced. There was no love lost between the demons, only the passage of time. He remembered having his own personal enemy.

  –– 24 ––

  THE RESCUERS

  Jolland had enemies all of her own, wrapped up in a neat little package. She screamed. The countryside became a maze of destruction. A cataclysmic event that lead from massive explosion to the next. The surface of the Earth shattered in the nexus of the industrial plot to cover up the tracks of lone Senator's monstrous invention. The beamdrivers reached the planet's core, only the tampering with history would right the wrongs done against humanity. The tapping of interior magma, the rising steam, the streams of molten rock rose from the depths of the planet to fill the sky. The ground rolled in an endless earthquake that shook it across the course of a trial of endless eruptions. The soil splintered apart, rushing against the surface in lengthy cracks that opened the ground like dried bread into widening fissures of hot steam, molten lava and treacherous trails.

  Instinctively, Jolland whistled for her steed; however, only molten rock fell from the sky. "Eos," shouted Jolland. "Where is he?" Then she remembered. The charred carcass fell from the sky after the first explosion. She only escaped with her life, not with her companion. "Eos––" she screamed. "Where are you?"

  Jerolda Manchi dodged a falling tree and the resulting debris, landing behind her with a thud. A fateful cry echoed through the trees. One Sara and Callen didn't take lightly too, or want any part of. These were the war cries of Kel-fee warriors. The howl meant they were once again on the hunt. Callen could only see one target. One prey. He remembered the encounter in the meadow, on the other side of the river. The trashing Jolland had given them sing
le–handedly. They had barely escaped with their lives. Only the quick reflexes and relocation to the other side of the river had provided an escape. Time had given them an edge, an edge that was about to run out. The Kel-fee warriors were on the move again, and this time the river wasn't going to protect them.

  Callen couldn't tell which direction the sound was coming from, but he knew it was closer than he wanted it to be. The ground rolled again with another after shock in the seven plus range. The earthquakes were getting stronger, more intense. Callen toppled to the ground and rolled back onto his feet, leaping to safety as the ground opened into a fissure, releasing gases from below the surface. This time he hit the side of a tree, narrowly missing Jerolda Manchi's face with his knee.

  Jerolda Manchi screamed! Jumped back. His feet went out from under him in a fit of rage that landed him on the ground like a sliding board. He was slipping into the hole. Jolland grabbed his ankle, pulling up on him up to save his life. Tee sighed, relieved, but he too started shouting at the top of his lungs: The Kel-fee where everywhere. "Kel-fee!" screamed Tee. He never finished his sentence. Instead, he went flying through the air on the end of a Brandian Stick, stuck to a tree by its pointed end.