Awakening: The First Tale of the Trine (Trine Series Book 1)

by D. B. West

  “Having said that,” Tyler interjected. “We did have a few questions about exactly what you did to us. We feel great, but…odd.”

  “Tell me what you feel, exactly,” said Orak.

  Tyler looked thoughtful for a moment, then said “It’s hard to explain. At first I thought it was grief. I mean, my Pops just passed, I don’t even know if my brother is alive, and you woke me up moments later with some sort of living nightmare…” Tyler waved a hand at Oraki. “I thought what I was feeling was just some sort of shock, or mourning. I feel heavy, in my stomach and heart if that makes sense, and I have this nagging sensation of…hell, I don’t know! If I had to put a finger on it, I’d say I feel guilty, horribly guilty about something…but I don’t know what?”

  Delmont listened to Tyler try to articulate the emotions he was experiencing. “I’ve had some odd feelings too, since last night. I’ve had this weird giggly feeling, like someone just tickled me. I feel it constantly, flitting around in my head, a little laughing butterfly. Do you think it’s related to what you did to heal us?” he asked Orak directly.

  “I’m sure it is. Each of you is feeling a resonance from the other’s soul. At its most basic, in order to heal you I performed the Elvahn ritual of soul bonding. Each of you had a powerful connection to the aether, the energy where souls reside when not fused with the flesh. I combined your connections, which pulled enough energy into your bodies to heal the wounds you had suffered.” Orak looked at the two men expectantly, awaiting their questions.

  Tyler spoke up first, saying, “The Elvahn ritual of soul bonding? So this is something your kind do all the time, you tie your souls to each other? Why?”

  “It’s not something we do ‘all the time.’ The ritual is usually reserved for long-term relationships, like your marriage,” Orak replied.

  “You married us?” Tyler exclaimed indignantly, as Delmont’s mouth fell open. Tyler looked over at Delmont and said, “And we just slept our honeymoon away.”

  “That’s not funny,” Delmont replied to Tyler. “Your soul bonding thing is to bring lovers closer together?” he asked Orak.

  “Not always. Parents bond their children, siblings bond each other. If you find the concept of ‘marriage’ troubling for some reason, think of it as a bond of brotherhood. As to what you two have been feeling, well…” Orak paused for a moment, staring at the two men intently. “You are each feeling a powerful resonance of the other person’s soul. Tyler, what you are feeling is the regret that Delmont has wrapped around his consciousness. This regret comes through most powerfully as it apparently affects him most keenly, and overshadows his other traits.”

  Orak let that sink in a moment, before turning to Delmont. “Delmont, the ‘tickle’ or ‘laughter’ you described is Tyler’s cynicism. His soul is armored in it, and it pervades his every thought. Usually, when two Elvahn are bonded, they are already very close to each other. Knowing each other well, the connection is…smoother. With the two of you, we will first have to work on breaking down the barriers between you formed by these emotions before you can learn more about your abilities. Director, if you are willing to allow it, we can all begin working on that now.”

  Director Spencer looked to Delmont and Tyler. “What do you say gentlemen? Do you want to proceed?”

  Both men nodded their assent. “It’s what we agreed to,” Tyler added. “You kept your end of the bargain, and I intend to keep mine. What do you want us to do?” he asked.

  Orak motioned to Aki, who had been sitting with his front paws up on the table. Aki moved out of the way, and Orak guided Tyler to sit down across the table from Delmont. “When two souls are bonded the connection formed allows them to communicate telepathically. It’s actually quite easy, if you can remember certain things. Each individual thinks differently. We don’t just think in clearly defined sentences. Our thoughts are a combination of words, images, emotions…all sorts of things. In order to communicate telepathically, you have to direct a clear, fully formed coherent thought towards the other’s consciousness that you feel on the outskirts of your own awareness. In your case Delmont, you will want to try to direct a thought at that ‘giggly feeling’ in your mind. Tyler, you will want to try to direct a thought towards this ‘guilt’ that you feel. Those feelings are the other person’s soul.”

  Director Spencer moved away from the table, going to stand near the entrance to the room. Aki hopped up on the bed in the corner, a cheerful canine grin stretching across his snout. For the next several minutes, Orak sat looking back and forth between the two men expectantly.

  Tyler finally turned to Orak and said, “I’m not entirely sure if I’m doing anything right now, other than just staring at him,” motioning to Delmont. “It feels like the guilty sensation is getting stronger, but…that’s all there is.”

  Delmont exhaled heavily, saying, “He’s right. All I’m getting is that annoying laughing sensation. It’s aggravating, it feels…mean, like it’s laughing at me.”

  “Cynicism is mean,” Orak agreed. “But it is also weak. Guilt and regret are more powerful emotions, and can be much harder to push through.” Orak leaned back from the table and said, “This process is easier for lovers, because heightened emotions break down the barriers. Love, lust, even hatred or rage are useful at this stage. I think it will be easier as you get to know each other a bit better. Tell each other about yourselves, and keep pushing at that other consciousness you each feel.”

  “Oh, we’re about to have a full blown therapy session in here,” Tyler quipped. “This Mega Man looking bastard is going to bust open our deepest secrets!”

  “You think I want to do this?” Orak growled, eyes narrowing over his mask. “I need your help, and even with your bodies healed, a rancid turd would do me more good in a fight than you two. Broadcasting your own thoughts through your own soul...telepathy, you call it, is the equivalent of teaching a child to wipe their own ass!”

  Delmont looked back over at Tyler, who had opened a can of mixed nuts and was staring back at him with a small smile playing around the corners of his lips. Delmont sighed as Orak continued to glower at them, then said, “I guess I’ll start. Ok, so…my name is Delmont Jeffries, and I was born and raised out in Stone Mountain, Georgia…” Delmont trailed off, as he felt the sensation of mocking laughter grow stronger in his head.

  “Stop,” Orak said. “Tell him something meaningful. Tell him where the guilt comes from, the regret.”

  Delmont nodded slowly, then placed his hands flat on the table. The newly regrown fingers on his left hand were still a bit paler than the rest of his skin, and he stared at them as he began speaking. “I’ve thought about that a lot…maybe too much. I’ve got a lot of regrets. The VA doc I saw told me I was suffering with ‘survivor’s guilt,’ because of the friends I saw get killed. He told me it was irrational, and that there was nothing I could have done for them. That men die in war. He was right, for some of them. Peterson got lit up by an IED, and Gregory got his skull shattered by an RPG. But then there was Riley, Stewart, and Johnson…I could list dozens. I ordered each of them to follow me. To cover me. Me, a man who can’t die. I led each of those boys, and when the bullets stopped flying, and I was standing over the broken bodies of enemies and friends…I was so proud of myself. I felt like the biggest bull in the pasture, and it filled me with so much joy…every time the dust cleared and I was still breathing felt like I was born again, and I loved it.”

  Delmont paused, staring wide-eyed at his trembling hands. He could feel the mocking laughter flickering all around him. It was so out of place in his mind, so irreverent to the memory of the men he had served beside…it was infuriating. Delmont tried to swallow his anger, and continue. “I didn’t have all these feelings during the war. While I was there…it was the best time of my life. I mean, marrying my wife, the birth of my daughter, those are my greatest moments, but out there fighting, living on the edge every second…I’ve never had so much fun. I didn’t realize at the time there was a
nything unusual about me, and I fought the way I was trained. It was only later that the guilt came, when I realized that I was different, and that so many of those boys could have come home if I had only known. The regrets…the regrets are the same, I guess. Every night those battles play again in my head. The deaths that I could have prevented. The things I could have done differently…”

  The laughter echoing in the back of his mind seemed to swell as he spoke, while Tyler sat across from him with the faintest flicker of a smile still playing across his lips. It was too much, too disrespectful, and Delmont finally snapped. “WHAT THE HELL IS SO GODDAMNED FUNNY?” he roared, pounding his fists on the table.

  “I didn’t say anything,” Tyler replied innocently. While Delmont had been speaking, Tyler had been separating the mixed nuts into small piles in front of him. “It’s a cool story, bro,” Tyler continued. “Want to hear one of mine?”

  Pushing the pile of Brazil nuts he had made towards Delmont, Tyler said “My Pa-Paw used to say that these were dark and stinky, and you never wanted to put them in your mouth. He called them ‘nigger toes.’ You’ve probably had some in your mouth though, right?”

  Delmont leapt to his feet, tearing at his hospital gown and throwing it to the ground. He stomped around the table clad only in his boxers, roaring “YOUR PA-PAW WAS A GODDAMNED RACIST! STAND UP AND SAY THAT WORD TO MY FACE!”

  Tyler cackled, his laugh startling Delmont. “Shit man, kick those drawers off too if you want to wrestle! Give us the full Del-Monty. Let’s see it all!”

  Delmont’s chest heaved with his ragged breathing. The laughter echoing through his mind was more pronounced than ever, and seeing this scrawny little bastard sitting there grinning at him had sent him into a murderous rage. He grabbed Tyler’s shoulder, and raised his fist as Orak and Aki looked on impassively. Director Spencer took a step forward, preparing to save the loud-mouthed young man.

  “Before you drop the hammer, cock-diesel, tell me about your daughter’s dog,” Tyler said quietly, the grin fading from his face.

  “What?” Delmont rasped, the words staggering him back a step. Orak gave a slight nod to Tyler, urging him to continue.

  Tyler shook Delmont’s now loose grip free of his gown and said, “Your daughter’s dog, the poodle. Say its name. Say it!” Tyler demanded.

  Delmont took another step back. “We call him Salty. How did you know she had a poodle?”

  “Now, now, Del-Monty, you big fruity bastard, don’t be coy. What’s the dog’s full name,” Tyler teased.

  Delmont flushed, and Tyler could feel that it was a mixture of anger and embarrassment. “I named it ‘Saltine the Cracker Hating Dog’…it only barks at white people. Damned dog is racist as hell…” Delmont trailed off, still trembling with anger. “You did that on purpose,” he accused.

  “The blue knight here said that love and lust were good, but hate and rage would work too. You’re pretty, cock-diesel, but let’s face it, love and lust just weren’t in our cards.”

  Delmont picked up his discarded hospital gown, and then grimaced. “Stop that!” he said sharply.

  Aki’s ears perked up. “What’s he doing?” the dog asked curiously.

  “He’s…he’s sending me pictures of breasts. In my head, I mean…” Delmont growled.

  “If we’re going to share thoughts, you better get used to it, man! It’s gonna be nothing but tits and giggles for us from here on out!” Tyler grinned.

  Delmont turned to Orak, and asked flatly, “How do I get him back out of my head?”

  “We will work on that next,” Orak said. “Sit back down, and we’ll…” Orak trailed off as a small red light on his bracer started pulsing steadily, and the screen beside it lit up with a string of alien characters. Aki leapt up from the bed, fur bristling and teeth bared.

  Everyone stared at Orak curiously for a moment, before Director Spencer spoke. “Is everything all right? What is that, exactly?”

  “This is a type of communicator that can pick up and access nearby networks. I set it to alert me when a new network became available. It just picked up a new signal. I’m checking the strength now,” Orak explained calmly.

  “How did a new network suddenly become available nearby? Do you mean our IT department activated a modem, or….?” Director Spencer let the question trail off.

  “No. I set it to filter out the kind of signals you humans use. I wanted it to alert me if a Bore opened. One just did,” Orak said grimly.

  “Can you tell if it’s your people, the Elvahn?” Delmont asked.

  “I can tell. It’s not the Elvahn,” Orak said quietly as the screen stopped scrolling, and a bright red symbol flashed in alarm. “Director, you need to order an evacuation of this building…of this city. The signal originates from the Abbadon. The strength of the signal indicates that the Bore is here.”

  “Here? Where, exactly?” Director Spencer asked, motioning towards the reflective wall where the observers listened in the next room.

  “Here, as in within the building. I’m sorry Delmont, Tyler. We’re going to have to train a different way,” Orak said.

  The lights abruptly went out in the room, and in the absolute darkness they could hear the air circulator whining as it slowed, then stopped.

  In the silence that followed, Orak said, “Gentlemen, you’re about to get some hands on experience.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Blinding beams of light cut through the darkness of the cell as the airlock doors were forced open. The pair of soldiers who had been outside burst into the room.

  “Director Spencer!” the first one in barked. “We’ve got reports of contact with hostile creatures on multiple floors. Our troops are responding while we attempt to evacuate. We need to get you out of here, now!”

  Director Spencer nodded, and turned to the men in the cell. “All of you follow the soldiers. We’ll stay together, and get you somewhere safe.” Ducking into the airlock with the soldier, he disappeared from view.

  Aki stepped in front of the airlock entrance as Delmont and Tyler moved forward, and the door abruptly cycled closed. Without the light from the soldier’s flashlights, both men stopped, reaching out blindly for something to hold onto.

  “We’re not going with them,” Orak said quietly.

  “What?” Delmont barked. “We’re unarmed, we’re not even in clothes! Are we just going to hide in here?”

  There was a scream from outside the airlock, and flashes of light from a small crack Aki had left open in the door.

  “Contact!” a voice screeched, as gunfire erupted in the hall. Orak grabbed Delmont and Tyler’s arms, pulling them away from the door.

  “Listen to me,” Orak hissed. “They can’t protect you. We can. We are not unarmed. There is another person in this facility, another person like you two. We have to rescue them, then we have to get to the lab to recover my weapon. Stay with us, and I promise you will get out of here alive.”

  The sound of gunfire in the hall intensified, punctuated by screams and inhuman roars. Orak pushed Delmont and Tyler to the back of the room, then moved to crouch down by Aki. The gunfire abruptly stopped, and as the echoes faded, the only light the two men could see were Orak’s strange blue eyes, as the alien turned back towards them.

  “Wait,” Orak whispered to them, placing a hand on both of their arms. “Once they move on, Aki will open the door. The other person we need to collect is nearby. While the Abbadon are sweeping the halls, we will trail them. If we encounter any, Aki will engage them while we move on.”

  From the doorway, Aki growled, “We’re clear.”

  “Stay here just a moment while we check the hall,” Orak said.

  The airlock door slid open silently at Aki’s gaze, and he padded softly into the hall. They could hear him snuffling in the darkness. Orak moved into the hall behind him, and the two men left in the room could hear a rattling sound as Orak came back a moment later. They both jumped as a light flicked on, just under those shining blue eyes.r />
  Orak handed Delmont the rifle the flashlight was attached too. “Keep the light pointed down, and keep your hand on the button. Turn it off on my word.”

  “Why does he get the gun?” Tyler whispered.

  “Because he knows how to use the damned thing,” Orak growled. “Now listen, the Abbadon wear inertia dispersal units. A gun only works if you’re within the field it generates.”

  “How close is that?” Delmont asked.

  “Within their reach. The gun is a last resort. If one gets on top of you, shoot it. Otherwise, stay behind us, and do not panic. You will get out of here if you listen to us. Let’s go,” Orak ordered.

  As Orak led them into the hallway, Delmont paused momentarily, sweeping the ground and walls with the beam from the flashlight. Blood was spattered across the hall, and a thick smear led back towards the stairwell. Their feet slid on bullet casings covering the floor, and he used the light to help them watch their steps.

  “All this blood…where are the bodies?” Delmont whispered.

  Orak moved up the hallway to an intersection where Aki was waiting. Looking back, Orak said, “The scavengers round up corpses immediately to try to avoid too much leakage. The Abbadon are very efficient.”

  “Chalk that up to ‘shit you’re sorry you asked,’” Tyler whispered.

  Gunfire could be heard on the floors above them as they cautiously made their way through the medical wing. At another crossing corridor, Orak waved Tyler and Delmont close. “The room we are going to is just up here on the right. Aki says he smells something at the far hall. Kill the light, and hang onto each other.”

  Delmont turned off the flashlight and the two men clasped hands. Orak grabbed Tyler’s arm, and they shuffled down the hall silently.

  Tyler and Delmont could see nothing, but as they moved down the hall they began to hear a faint pounding, just before a muffled voice yelled “What the hell is going on out there? Someone open the door! Is anyone out there?”