Discovery at Nerwolix

by C. G. Coppola

  “Shouldn’t we go back and help him?” Reid asks.

  Clarence shakes his head, his long green whiskers tossing from side to side. “As trained as you are, you are no match for the fleet of Vermix Reuzkimpart brought.”

  “He’s here?” I ask.

  “Blovid spotted him.”

  “And Blovid’s still out there?” I gasp. “He’s Dellapalania’s last Arizal Leader! He can’t get hurt!”

  “We’ve left four Arizals against all those Vermix,” Reid shakes his head. “We have to go back.”

  “You go back and you’ll be killed. Not right away, but they’ll take you to Dellapalania and kill you slowly and publicly,” Clarence slows to a halt near a brush of skinny, gray, leafless trees. Exhaling, he spins to us. “Reuzkimpart wants a triumph for all the fighting Vermix. Witnessing the death of his enemy will be just the boost they need.”

  “Still,” Tucker pants, “is there anything else we can do?”

  “We need to get off planet. We need to keep you safe.”

  “We can’t leave them,” Reid shakes his head, looking back up the white mountain. “I’ll stay.”

  “And do what?” Clarence grabs his shoulder before he can take off. “You’ll only die. Sampson wouldn’t want that. We need to get you out of here.”

  “But—”

  “Sampson is a Fychu. He will be fine.”

  “What about Blovid? And Vix and Qippert?” I ask. “He’s not even fully healed.”

  “We need to get you off planet. If you stay, you will be killed. If the others are captured, they’ll be interrogated and tried as traitors.”

  A crunching sounds down the side of the mountain and we all turn with our Traxpires, ready. But it’s a smaller, familiar Dofinike with the same circle with alternating dots on his upper chest. He stumbles closer, Clarence taking off up the steep slope to help him.

  Throwing Qippert’s arm over his hardened shelled shoulders, Clarence brings him back to us. “What happened?”

  “The Fychu said to get off planet immediately,” Qippert cups his side, to his wound that has reopened. “He said he would meet us at Nerwolix.”

  “And Blovid? Vix?”

  “They are holding their own…” he exhales, “for now…”

  “We must go!” a familiar female voice calls from above. “NOW! They are coming!” Vix races down the slope, eyeing an unconscious Able over Booker’s shoulder as she reaches us. “I will take these two. Hurry,” she turns to Clarence. “Sympse and Blovid are right behind me.”

  Vix and both Rogues disappear just as two Dofinikes reach the top of the slope where Vix was mere seconds ago.

  “Oh thank God,” I exhale.

  “Hurry,” Clarence has us all form a circle as Sampson and Blovid race closer, a hoard of snarling Vermix on their trail. “Ready?”

  “GO!” Sampson calls, disappearing mid-run.

  Right behind him, Blovid does the same.

  Reid squeezes my hand and the familiar wind whips under my feet. But just as the purple fogginess rises, something hard knocks into me, separating me from the group. I lose touch with Reid’s hand and fall to the snow under the hard body of a Vermix. Over his shoulder, Reid’s eyes bulge, his guttural shout reaching the top of his lungs just as the circle disappears.

  “NO!”

  Chapter Four: Vermix Lair

  Shit.

  A set of talons grip my neck, securing me to the wet, white ground as something happens down at my ankles. I can’t think. I can’t concentrate. My heart is pounding too hard in my chest and all I’m aware of is one thing.

  I’m alone.

  I gasp for air but the talons pinch my throat, making it hard to breathe. I tug at them but it does no good and swiftly, my hands are stretched above my head, bound like my ankles. How did this happen? I was with Reid and the others only seconds ago and now they’re gone. And I’m still here.

  Alone.

  The Vermix releases his hold and suddenly I’m being tugged forward. They’re taking me somewhere. Probably back to Dellapalania to kill me in front of the Vermix, as some sort of morale boost. I have to get out of this. I have to escape, but I’m by myself. And against how many?

  I’m not even sure.

  Trying to sit up, I scan the thick herd surrounding me. There must be two dozen Vermix. Maybe more. But I only have a second to look. Talons come flying across my face and everything goes black.

  ***

  When we are we returning?

  The Supreme Leader wishes for our patience. He will return when he is ready.

  What do we do with her until then?

  Keep her where she is.

  She will try to escape.

  Then she will die sooner.

  My eyelids hurt too much to open, my face still stinging from something. But what? And I’m dizzy. And my entire body aches. What happened? Racing through the last few details, I try to piece the blurriness and pain into something I remember. But it’s all fog. All confusion.

  Concentrate, Fallon. What do you remember?

  We arrived on Larupip…we met up with Blovid… then… there was an ambush of blue creatures. Pweboles. And we followed them out. We were looking for—

  My eyes shoot open, everything rushing back in a sudden flood of ghastly images. The attack, the near-escape, but me—I didn’t make it. I was separated at the last second. I was captured. My heart pounds, the air in my lungs evaporating. Christ, I’m captured. I’m surrounded by Vermix. And I’m here, wherever here is.

  We’re in some sort of dark space, similar to Blovid’s cave except that the empty walls are black, keeping the warmth away. Blovid had torches lined every few feet but there aren’t any here. Only a few babeebs float above the Dofinike heads as they enter and leave again through the one narrow tunnel on the left. The small, circular suns I knew on Harrizel offer only a faint yellowish glow and in this immense darkness, they give off very little light. Adding to their slim warmth, a small jar of crushed Callix petals sits on the ground in the corner. Next to it, a group of Vermix huddle together. They’re pointing at a map laid on a table made from the same dark rock as the walls. A few go back and forth in argument while others strum their green beards, listening and studying the pictured landscapes in front of them.

  I look to my right. Two Vermix sit on boulders, busily cleaning and inspecting their Traxpires. They don’t look up as they work, keeping dedicated focus on their task as a nasally voice mutters in the corner behind them.

  “Pallooloo did as requested. Pweboles follow orders, always follow orders. Humans found…Fychu found… Pallooloo did as requested, always follow orders. Pweboles—”

  “Will you shut him up,” one of the Vermix growls, waving his arm. He looks over the map again, pointing to something just as one of the Dofinikes to my right rises. Taking the blunt end of his Traxpire, he jabs Pallooloo in his blue snout and the Pwebole king falls back. A deep navy stream runs from his nostril but he keeps going in his mumbling nasally voice.

  “Pallooloo did as requested. Humans found…Fychu found… Pweboles follow orders, always follow orders…”

  The Vermix rams his gun into Pallooloo again, knocking him back. He falls to the ground but gets up, still mumbling in a consistent rhythm. The Vermix drops his Traxpire and grabbing Pallooloo in one hand, he punches him over and over with the other. Finally the Pwebole king slumps against the wall, one eye closed and two navy streams flowing from his blue snout. His mumbles die into soft whispering as the Vermix selects his Traxpire from the ground. He sits down again, resuming his cleaning.

  I can’t tell if Pallooloo is dead. I don’t think so, but he won’t last long. Just like me.

  I need to get out of here.

  But how? My arms are strung straight above my head. Craning my neck back, I find a rope is hanging from the darkness. I give a little tug and my wrists scream at the prickly twine digging into the raw skin. How long have I been held up here? And how did I get like this?

  “She
is awake.”

  Both of the sitting Vermix watch me through yellow slits. The one that silenced Pallooloo glares but returns to his work, rubbing down his Traxpire.

  “Should we retrieve the Supreme Leader?”

  “No,” the first grumbles. “She is of no use until we return.”

  “He may wish to question her.”

  “For what reason? She is not here for questioning. He would not seek help from a human.”

  The other Vermix nods, cleaning his Traxpire like his partner. They continue ignoring me as more Dofinikes move in and out of the space. My eyes dart around the darkness, from Pallooloo to the group of Vermix huddling over the map and to the tunnel on the left.

  I have to get out of here.

  Maybe Sampson and Clarence will come for me. But how will they know where I am? I don’t even know where I am. It could be anywhere. But the wind chill sweeping in through the only opening suggests we might still be on Larupip. Would the others come back here first?

  Would Reid?

  The thought of him brings a painful knot to my chest. He must be going crazy. The look on his face—the guttural echo of his shout when he disappeared. Where is he? What must he be thinking? A tremor of fear runs over me at the thought of never seeing him again. But I refuse to believe that. I’m getting out of here—I know I am. And if not, I won’t make it easy for them. They’ll have to fight me for my death.

  Looking up, I examine my wrists more carefully. Even with Reid’s Callix on the left, both are red from where the rope has cut into the skin and pulled so tightly that my arms are hoisted straight above my head. The twine itself is thick and rough, plaited down from the ceiling where it hangs in the shadows. I try tugging on it again, getting a feel of my restraints but I only end up irritating my wrists, so I stop.

  The Vermix cleaning his Traxpire is watching me again. He holds my stare for a solid minute before returning to his work. Other Dofinikes pass between us but none of them look at me. In fact, most ignore me. Good. Maybe they’ll pretend I’m not here. I’ll keep quiet and study their movements and groupings. Any information I can obtain, anything useful I can bring back to the others, I will. This won’t be in vain. Because I will escape.

  I’m not dying here.

  For a while, it’s the same: Vermix come in, speak over one another and argue through hissing snarls. They gesture around—and to me every so often—before leaving again, shaking their heads in low, disagreeing grumbles. This goes on for a time as the two sitting Vermix continually clean their Traxpires to the right of me.

  I’m not sure how long I’ve been awake, watching the same scene when a smaller Dofinike rushes in, motioning to the other Vermix. “The Supreme Leader is on his way.”

  The Vermix dedicated to cleaning his Traxpire refuses to look up. “Is he issuing our return?”

  “Not as I am informed. He comes seeking our status.”

  “All is as it was,” his angry eyes flicker to me. “Nothing has changed.”

  The other Dofinike cleaning his weapon looks up, glancing between his partner and the small newcomer. “Perhaps he wants a final confirmation all is as it should be before returning.”

  “It has been,” the first growls, raising his Traxpire. “We should have left immediately.”

  His partner shakes his head. “He believes the Fychu and Blovid will return.”

  “For her,” he aims his weapon at me and I think my heart stops.

  “You must not!” the smaller one cries, throwing his talons between us. “She is not to be harmed until—”

  Talons scrape across the stone, echoing through the tunnel on the left. It’s not just the few Vermix that have been coming in and out, but an entire herd that shuffles in, all speaking over one another and focused on the center of the group. One voice carries above the others, demanding attention as he waits for a response to something he asked.

  “Yes, Supreme—the Pweboles are dead.”

  “All?”

  “Most. A few escaped. Shall we search for them?”

  “No,” the one from the middle says, blocked by the others. “Let them live for now. They may be of use later on.”

  “Yes, Supreme.”

  “And Blovid’s hideout? It has been thoroughly searched?” he asks as the herd of Dofinikes moves further into the space, all surrounding him. “What was found?”

  “Only a spit and Carring hides.”

  “This is all?”

  “Yes, Supreme.”

  “And how many are on watch there?”

  “Eight.”

  The crowd slows as the center Vermix turns to the other, speaking in a calm and even tone that sets a chill to my bones. “And we think this is sufficient?”

  “Supreme?” his voice quakes.

  “I thought I expressed myself clearly,” he pauses, the entire herd halting as the air grows cold. Even the Vermix cleaning their Traxpires look up, alarmed at the eerie silence that has overtaken the cave. “Blovid and the Fychu will return—of this I am certain. I require their capture to ensure the end of this revolution, and you think a mere eight can overpower them? When a fleet of twenty-five could not before?”

  “We have multiple areas under surveillance—”

  “If they are allowed to escape again, you will force my hand. It is not something I particularly enjoy but nonetheless, I would advise you to take stock in the rumors—I have no vendettas against collecting Commanders’ heads. Do not delude yourself into thinking you are an exception.”

  “H-how many troops would the Supreme require?”

  “Fifty. Minimum.”

  “Yes, Supreme. It will be done.”

  “Once the traitors are seized, I want them on Dellapalania along with the captured,” he moves forward and the surrounding Dofinikes follow. “With their removal, it shall make for an easier invasion.”

  “Are they to be executed before or after?”

  “Once we secure the Floating Ruby, I will present it along with those captured to Dellapalania. She will rally for the Shadow Bag to put an end to this prophecy. And with the Mybyncians still weakened, we will be able to overthrow them,” he pauses. “I have not decided at which point Blovid and the human will be executed. Theon may demand imprisonment for his son.”

  “And you will grant this?”

  “The Fychu is far too dangerous to be left alive. Theon will get sick quickly, and with his death, the Fychu’s will immediately follow,” he moves closer to the two Vermix sitting with their Traxpires in their lap, the herd of Dofinikes still surrounding him. “I want fifty additional guards surrounding this bunker. Twenty five outside and twenty five in. Have another fifty placed in a thirty foot radius.”

  The glaring Vermix nods as the herd of Dofinikes start to shuffle back toward the tunnel out.

  “Are we taking the captured back to Dellapalania now?” the Commander asks. “Or after Blovid and the Fychu are seized?”

  “Now,” the Supreme responds curtly. “I have every expectation this will go without a hitch. Have her in the dungeon no more than fifteen minutes after I arrive. I will send for confirmation.”

  Still hidden by his entourage, the Supreme leaves and I’m left with only the two Vermix cleaning their Traxpires. After a solid minute, they glance to each other and then to me. Finally, the first looks to the second.

  “We may have to steal the hundred troops from Arosin, now that we know where Blovid and the Fychu will be.”

  The glaring Vermix keeps his focus on me, lifting his Traxpire again. My heart races, all air caught in my chest as he speaks to his partner without breaking his stare. “They will not be pleased.”

  “But if the Supreme commands it…”

  “They volunteered for Arosin. Larupip is a bitter wasteland,” he gets to his feet and stalks toward me.

  Involuntarily, I step back. The rope brushes against my raw wrist but I don’t feel it. I only feel the heavy pounding in my chest as the Vermix leans in and snatches my face in his talons. They
’re sharp, piercing into both cheeks and my chin. But I don’t scream. I don’t jerk back or cry. I just focus on his yellow eyes, pegging him with the same intense glare he’s giving me. His hand tightens and for a moment I think he’s going to crush my head.

  He wants to. Everything in his expression tells me so. And he’s seriously considering it, his talons digging deeper into my flesh. But finally the pressure abates and he’s letting go. The pain is gone and just as I’m breathing a sigh of relief, his talons fly across my face, knocking me back. The sting rips through me, my skin quickly rationalizing the severity of what just happened. God that felt like four angry blades ripping my flesh open. My head hangs, blood dripping down my chin to the ground below.

  “Little bitch,” he whispers in my ear, nudging the Traxpire under my chin. He pushes my face up, his own inches from mine.

  I’m not sure what he’s waiting for. He’s ready to do it. Even with orders to keep me alive, he’s battling with himself, weighing the options. One shot. It’d be one shot and it’d be over. Finally, he yanks me forward by my tee, squeezing the gray material in his talons. This is it. He’s going to do it. But he only sneers. I’m about to sigh a second breath of relief when he flings me back and I hit the wall with force. Agony erupts at the impact, my wrists screaming again at the rope rubbing them raw. With the sudden jolt, I feel broken. I have no energy to hold myself up, so I hang limp by my arms, ready to collapse, ready to close my eyes and let go. But I can’t. The blood trickling down my face and the pain shooting up my arms are a constant reminder that keep me awake, keep me conscious.

  “They are here!” someone calls down the tunnel. “They are—”

  Screaming erupts, followed by a Traxpire igniting and shouting. Lifting my head, I focus on the tunnel’s entrance, unsure this is really happening. Maybe I’m just imagining it. Maybe that Vermix hit me so hard that I’m unconscious, and this is all a dream.

  But both Dofinikes ready their weapons, moving to stand in position as the shouting and firing draws nearer. Before I’m really able to see it, a Dofinike races into the space, crawling up the walls and toward the ceiling in seconds. Focused on this, both Vermix take aim but they’re hit in their chests, orange explosions ripping through their hardened torsos. They fall to their knees and then flat on their fronts, smacking the hard, rocky ground. My focus flies to the tunnel’s entrance.