Cydonia Rising

by Dave Walsh

  “Aye,” the four said in unison.

  “Is it manned?”

  “Dunno yet,” Oystein said. “C’mon, let’s get rolling.”

  They piled out of the transport, Oystein reminding them a few times to keep it quiet. The six of them slowly approached the sentry post, keeping to the shadows and crouching down underneath the windows at the sentry post. It was a small building with a guard tower branching off of it, one of many that Cronus had set up around Krigar to help “keep the peace.” They had driven a few kilometers into the city and this district of town was a bit more upscale than where the Quorthon was. Oystein had explained to her that they had driven his men out from their part of town and were now going to be striking deep in the heart of where he felt the safest. Oystein stopped at the corner of the building, pointing toward the two guards who stood near the front. He motioned for the four to head out while he kept his arm in front of Alva.

  “Let them handle this,” he whispered.

  “They aren’t going to—” It was too late, though, just as she was going to verbalize it, her fear came true when she saw their pulseaxes buried deep into the guards, sending them crashing to the ground. Screams rang out and a few shots escaped their rifles before they were nothing more than unmoving corpses on the ground. A sudden flood of light overcame Alva and Oystein.

  “Shit!” Oystein exclaimed. “Kill them all!”

  “What?” Alva looked up to see Oystein charging toward the guard tower, the four chopping down the door to the building and rushing in. Alva stood outside, unsure of what to do. She had told Oystein that she wanted to do everything as bloodless as possible, and Oystein agreed with her at the time. She came out from her cover and ran toward the front of the building, finding the two dead guards in bloody heaps, deep cuts in their necks and chests before she heard a splat from her left. She turned and saw another guard splayed out on the ground, blood pooling around him. Oystein stood at the top of the guard tower, a menacing figure in the night.

  “Go check on them boys,” he shouted down to her. “I’ve got everything under control up here. Tell them I see a perfect spot for the banner, too.”

  “Fine,” she reacted quickly, pushing into the building only to find the four of them standing around, a few scattered guards laid out. “Gods dammit,” she muttered. “Is anyone left alive?”

  “No, ma'am,” one with a squirt of blood lining his face said to her. “Did you bring the gasoline?”

  “What?”

  “Nevermind,” he said, looking to the boy next to him. “James, go grab it, will ya?”

  “Alright, fine,” he said, rushing past her.

  “What have you done?”

  “We sent a message, Princess Alva.” He looked proud, wiping some of the blood off his face, but mostly smearing it. “Like we always do. We better get outta here, though.”

  “Why?”

  “This place is gonna burn.”

  “Oystein said something about a banner?”

  “Oh right, let’s go put it up.” The remaining three rushed past her, Alva taking her time to walk from the building, looking up at Oystein, who stood in the tower directing the boys while shining the spotlight across the street on an apartment building.

  “Right where I’m shining,” he shouted. “Hang ‘er up right there, there’s no way they’ll miss it.”

  They went to work, scurrying around, Alva feeling the heat coming from the building while one of the boys ran out of the door almost out of breath. The other three had climbed up the ladder on the side of the building carrying the giant canvas, standing now at the top securing it before unfurling it in a grand sweeping gesture. The canvas unfolded, with “ALVA HAS RETURNED” scrawled crudely across a banner of Cronus’s face in deep red paint, the light shining on it.

  “What the…?” She stared up at it, mouth agape.

  “Like it?” Oystein boasted. “Thought of it meself.”

  “I don’t even know what to say,” she said.

  “Save it. We have to get outta here, you hear those sirens?”

  “Yeah,” she said, hearing them faintly in the distance, having grown accustomed to her enhanced hearing and having to adjust again to straining. They piled back into the transport and Oystein quickly zipped out of sight, making sure to take back roads to avoid detection. The ride was a quiet, tense one and Alva couldn’t help but stew in her thoughts. She logged herself back into the CyNet, starting to feel uncomfortable being disconnected after finally being able to connect again while back planetside.

  Everything was happening quickly and their stunt had received immediate media attention—all of the news vids were starting to come out while they pulled back into the alley behind the Quorthon. The Krigans jumped out, visibly relieved and excited while Oystein lumbered out from the driver’s seat and walked over to congratulate them. The image of the banner was plastered all over the news vids, her name front and center of the attack, with speculation as to if it really was Alva Hedlund or just a pretender. Alva continued to cycle through the vids before she froze, seeing an image of her from inside the outpost talking with the Krigans while they stood over the dead guards. There was no audio, but there didn’t need to be.

  How could she know there were security cameras in there? Wouldn’t Oystein know that already, and if he did know, why didn’t he warn her? She transferred the vid file to her holoscanner and climbed out from the transport, walking through the rusted metal door into the back office where Oystein sat pouring himself a drink. “Aye, Princess Alva, want a drink?” he asked, slapping two shot glasses down on the table.

  “No,” she said coldly. “I want you to watch something, Oystein.”

  “Aye, it’s made the news already, hasn’t it?”

  “It has.”

  “That’s good, that’s good,” he said, pouring out two shots and gulping one down quickly. “Isn’t it?”

  “You didn’t tell me that there were cameras in there, Oystein.” She projected the image in front of both of them.

  “How else would they believe you are back, princess?”

  “I hadn’t even gotten to that banner yet, why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because it had to happen.” He picked himself up, slamming the other shot down and walking back into the bar where there was a small congregation of his Krigan warriors, including the few who went with them on the run. “You told me you wanted to help, so you helped.”

  “I didn’t think it meant being used and lied to,” she said.

  “Nobody lied to you, lassie,” he said. “I just did what needed to happen. You are the new face of the revolution, someone the people can rally behind.”

  “So you are using me, then?”

  “It’s for the movement, yer da would understand,” he said. “Now c’mon, celebrate with us.”

  “What am I celebrating?” The panic was welling up inside her. Everything was spinning out of her control and not only was she a pawn for whatever Trallex’s plan was, now she was just a symbol for Oystein. “Someone else choosing to use me for their own personal gain?”

  “Now lassie, that isn’t at all—”

  “Yes it is,” she shouted, a hush rippling through the room. “You know I wanted to handle this without blood, but instead you made a bloody display with my name and face plastered all over it. This isn’t what I had envisioned doing. Freyja,” she sighed. “I’ve been back for less than a day.”

  “But we’ve started something more, don’t you see that?” He reached out toward her only for Alva to jerk her arm away. “Your face is out there lass, your name is on it. I’m sorry you find me treacherous, but it was the only way.”

  “I’m not doing any more for you, Oystein. This is not what my father would’ve wanted.”

  “Fine,” he spat on the ground. “Your face is out there, we’ve got dozens of lasses we can take with us on our raids and dress ‘er up like you. The damage has been done.”

  “How could you?” She stood toe-to-toe w
ith the hulk of a man, locking eyes. “I thought I knew you better.”

  “This isn’t about you or me, Princess Alva,” he said. “It’s about—”

  “Stop!” she shouted, feeling a surge of power run through her, her eyes clenched tightly together. When she opened her eyes, it dawned on her just what had happened and found herself right in the middle of the bar, with everyone and everything else pushed back up against the walls.

  “What the…” Oystein grumbled, pulling himself up to his feet. “What was that?”

  “I…” she stammered in horror.

  “Those damned Cymages,” Oystein said. “What’ve they done to you?”

  “Nothing…I, oh gods,” she gasped.

  “You are one of them now, aren’t you?” he said, tugging on the sleeve of her shirt, forcing her to jerk away. “You aren’t Krigan at all anymore, you aren’t even human!”

  Trella

  The physical universe had never quite interested Trella until recently, but she found herself sitting in the co-pilot’s chair of the Pequod watching the cosmos that surrounded them while they throttled across the expanse toward Andlios. Toward Alva. The very thought made her heart skip a beat and her pulse quicken. Everything felt fresh, new and exciting in a way that it had never felt before in her life. There was a cold shell that had surrounded her before, but now it had melted away and given way to a warm trove of sensations that were both overwhelming and welcome.

  One of the comm buoys sat off in the distance, an ominous reminder that while the universe was a beautiful and wondrous place, humanity had expanded as far as they could reach and left their footprint wherever possible. Their footprints were not as beautiful as the undisturbed universe, that much was clear to her. She looked down at her body, grown in a lab and augmented with mechanisms to not only make her life easier but also to help her live for many cycles. It had never occurred to her before that it was unnatural—it was simply the Cydonian way.

  “What are you doing up here?” Jace’s voice broke her from her daydream, sounding upset but not angry.

  “Oh.” She turned to see him standing there, sans boots, as she had learned was usual while aboard the Pequod. “I am sorry, Jace, I simply wanted to look out and spend some time alone.” Her greeting was still mechanical, but she had been working to smooth over some of her interactions with the rest of the crew and to somehow act more natural, whatever that meant.

  “It’s fine, I guess.” He sat down into his chair and spun around to face the console. “This is just usually where I come to be alone is all.”

  “I am very sorry, if you would like me to leave I can always—”

  “No, no,” he held his hand up at her. “It’s fine, you are okay, Trella. So tell me, what is it that has you deep in thought, so deep in thought, in fact, that you didn’t hear me coming?”

  “Nothing in particular, I suppose.”

  “That doesn’t sound very Cydonian,” he chuckled.

  “No, probably not.”

  “You weren’t thinking about Princess Alva, then?”

  “Among other things, yes, that is correct. You don’t sound surprised.”

  “You’ve traveled all the way across the galaxy, away from everything you knew just to find her.” He pulled up a star chart and studied it. “You must really love her.”

  “There is that word again.”

  “What, love?” He turned to her, confused.

  “Yes. It is not particularly a word that is used much by my people, Mr. Krios.”

  “If doing what you are doing isn’t love, then I don’t know what is.”

  “As you are well aware, love is something Cydonians thought to be a weakness and it was systematically removed throughout years of—”

  “You can’t remove human nature from a human, you just can’t.”

  “I’m not sure my people would agree with that, Mr. Krios.” She absently tapped her fingers on her knee.

  “Then how do they explain you?” The question was inevitable, she knew that, but it still stung.

  “An anomaly,” she answered, unsure of herself.

  “Why not evolution? Your people have been trying to evolve mankind for how long now? Why aren’t you the pinnacle of Cydonian culture?”

  “Because I am not, Mr. Krios.” She fidgeted with her hands before folding them in her lap. “I’m not sure I’d use the word love, either, but I’ve spoken with you about this before and—”

  “Just because you aren’t comfortable with it doesn’t make it any less true, you know? You are going back because of love.”

  “Then why are you going back?”

  “For love,” he said, pausing and nodding. “For love, yeah. Sounds a lot better than revenge, doesn't it?”

  “So you are doing it for Katrijn, then?”

  “Hey, no, wait, hold on a minute!” He raised his voice, his face turning red. “I never said that…”

  “See how it feels?”

  “Katrijn is a nice girl and all,” he turned to face Trella, “but I’m doing this for my wife and…What am I doing, anyway? I’m just dropping everyone off on Andlios and then getting the hell out. Alright?”

  “I didn’t know that you were married.”

  “Well, in a way,” he flashed his left hand at her, showing off his ring. “My wife, Ro, you see, she died a few cycles back.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Yeah, me too. It was Katrijn’s brother who did it—well, or one of his goons, who can really know, right? He’s not exactly fond of activists, especially ones who publicly defy him. It was a public execution for the whole world to see.”

  “Oh, my, that is just…”

  “I know,” he turned back to the controls. “Trust me, I know.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “I don’t talk about myself much, so that’s alright,” he said. “Katrijn is great, really, but she’s a princess, I know you understand that. I’m also not really sure how I feel about anything right now. All I know is that we are heading back to Andlios and the last time I was there I had just bought this ship and vowed to never return until Cronus Freeman’s head was on a pike. It isn’t—yet—and one of our princesses can make that a reality. Until then? Andlios isn’t my home anymore, even if I wish it was. Gods, even if one of them does succeed, I’m not sure there is anything left there for me.”

  “I just want to see Alva again.” Saying it out loud sent a chill throughout her body.

  “There, see? That wasn’t too hard to say out loud, was it?”

  “No, I suppose not.”

  “Good, we are making some progress then.”

  “How long until we are there?”

  “See that dot out there?” He pointed out the window toward a small glowing dot off in the distance. It was larger than the stars surrounding it, but still small.

  “Yes.”

  “That’s it, so I think we’ve got about three days or so, give or take.”

  “Are you nervous?” she asked, her stomach tying itself into a knot.

  “Are you kidding? I’m scared to death.”

  022. Arrival

  Jace

  The landing had gone smoothly enough, the authorization codes that Loren had provided worked like a charm, but Jace was still sweating bullets waiting for the inspector to sign off on the crates. They were medical supplies, sterile plastic instruments in plastic bags that were being delivered to a hospital in the capital. At least they were on the manifest; inside the two big crates were Loren, O’Neil, Katrijn and Trella; Loren and O’Neil in one and Katrijn and Trella in the other, surrounded by bags of supplies. It was a relief that he could be at least partially honest about what was in the crates—there actually were syringes, although they weren’t being sent anywhere in reality. Jace had thought it was silly at the time to get actual crates of syringes but Loren assured him that it was better to be safe than sorry if the inspector actually opened one of the crates.

  The inspector was late, of
course, which left Jace nervously pacing back and forth on the dock. It was Andlios, he reminded himself, things weren’t as smooth on the central planet as they were on the fringes. To make matters worse, he knew that inside these crates were his friends and if he was anxious on the outside, he could only imagine how it was inside those crates, where it had to be at least twenty degrees warmer. At least. He did get a chuckle out of himself imagining O’Neil being stuffed up inside along with Loren, who was probably irritating him in such close quarters.

  Acting inconspicuous was a lot more difficult than he ever thought it would be and he always felt transparent, even though he’d only really been exposed twice in his career transporting stuff from planet to planet. Through all of the years, he had made some stressful runs before, but everything he did had a contract and was at least somewhat legal. There was a lot of gray area in the fringes, but everything he did could have been justified—at least in his mind—as a legitimate enterprise. There were always offers for him to smuggle goods and the money was good, but he felt that a man was only as good as his word out in the fringes, so he adopted a code and stuck to it. Smuggling live fugitives into Andlios was madness and definitely didn’t fit into his code.

  This was smuggling, no doubt about it. There was no way around it, but when Jace broke it down, it was for a good cause, at least. He had been trying to convince himself the whole trip that everything they were doing was justified. The thought of having revenge on Cronus Freeman was what was driving him, even if he wished it wasn’t. He was happy to help Katrijn out, though. She was a nice girl and felt like just another victim of the Cronus Freeman Republic instead of a princess who led a pampered life. Katrijn was a good person and she believed in what she was doing, which is what he reminded himself. He saved her and became a part of the story and he would play out his role until the end. Revenge wasn’t a bad reason, though, he thought, but this was for the greater good.