The process was completely streamlined for both speed and efficacy. He would not have time for recreation or anything other than sleep or business. He was shuffled from one room to the next, and he was never asked to stay longer to complete a lesson. He could absorb the information easily, repetition was completely unnecessary.
He was standing in a long queue with thousands of other fit recruits – all perfect specimens of strength and virility. They were all eerily still and silent.. The line was perfectly straight, a sign of the military precision that had been imbued into them. When Tamil was up next, he watched as a young man was strapped into a gurney and various robotic instruments scanned his body and used tiny lacerations to take skin and hair samples, then he watched in horror as the computer said, “Denied,” and the boy was disintegrated. Technicians in white protective bunny suits ran up and sprayed the gurney down, and Tamil was suddenly aware that it was his turn. He watched as a razor blade slice his foot, just below the surface, then his hand, ankle, legs, buttocks, back, neck and head. Then laser scanners moved up and down his body, scanning the compounds found within.
After which a massive, silver arm raised up from the floor and he was taken aback in terror. There was a foot long long needle that was lunging towards him as he screamed mildly and the gurney turned him over so that he was lying on his back. It was shoved up the base up his spine and traveled its way all the way up his back like an infernal protrusion committing unspeakable acts against him. He could feel it traveling the entire way, grating against bone and nerves, jarring them aside and sending painful shocks throughout his body as it test both his emotions and his pain sensors. Then it moved through them one by one, and he was in more pain than he even knew was possible. It started in his lower back, a burst lava, then it moved up his stomach and over his chest. Soon his entire body felt like it had been plunged into molten metal, and when he was finally done, he felt like he had been drained of life.
“Accepted,” the computer screened. He was righted on his feet and moved without even realizing where he was going until he fell onto a hard bunk and passed out from exhaustion.
“UP!” The commander's voice was once against blaring throughout the hall, which was significantly less crowded than it had been before. If he sat down for a few minutes, he could probably count the number of people there with him, which meant nearly two-thirds of them had been killed.
They didn't talk much about the military's activities in the Milky Way—they couldn't afford to. They needed them to protect humanity from some of the most disgusting threats imaginable. They would have to be a vicious species if they were going to deal with the other races out there, and humans couldn't afford to be compassionate when it came time to buckle down and defend themselves.
Tamil had never actually seen death before, and he wasn't sure he would ever recover from the image of the boy's body crumbling into tiny black pieces of ash. The terror was still deeply ingrained, and he knew for certain that that experience would define his military career.
He was wearing the crown, a sign of his willingness to enter into servitude for his galaxy, and the military had been given the right to force it on him at any time, for any reason or no reason at all. He wasn't sure when they could use it, or if they would, but it scared him.
He decided to find a way to counteract its effects. If he could do that, he would stand a chance to save his life when the time came. He understood, as he marched down the aisle to the transport ship, that the crown worked by suppressing his ability to move—that was simple. It also meant that they were doing something to his motor cortex, which if he could enter the trance state, he would be able to understand. In order to do that, he would have to find a way to control his breathing, but he couldn't because he was not in full control of his motor functions.
He was in a stalemate, and unsure of how to deal with it. He would need to be able to move past the issue for his own peace of mind. He had too much dignity to allow his body to be overtaken and like this. It made him feel violated. He shouldn't have joined—that was his last thought as he was forced into the transport and strapped in.
Nothing can prepare a person for the shock of entering a new system when they first leave their home planet. No matter how long man had been able to utilize instant space travel, they were incapable of really moving past the grandiosity of it. There is never such a thing as a simple, boring system, not when a person considers the sheer magnitude of the planets, and it is easy to forget just how big a solar system can be. Some systems have dozens of planets, while others may only have one or two, but they all contain untold secrets.
The Aster system had one planet, which was only habitable during two years of its six year cycle, but it was given military patrols because the planet, Ifrit, was used as a warehouse for the military’s vast array of weapons, some of which could destroy a system instantaneously.
Tamil felt a bit of his mind unlocking, and he was allowed to enter the mental database when he was nearing the planet. He would be stationed at the outer rim of the solar system in Space Station 1543, one of hundreds of trillions of tiny bases which had been positioned in strategic portions in order to raise a first alert, as well as attack any possible intruders.
His station was a mobile guard tower which he would be required to use to alert other towers in case of intrusion. No ship, aside from those which had already gained clearance from the senate and the military was allowed to enter the system. Any ship that tried would be asked once to leave, and if they refused, they would be disintegrated. It sounded boring to Tamil, and he wasn't sure he was going to enjoy himself.
Chapter 8
The crowd of Mak facing the ship, parted to give way for the Aliens to walk, and their eyes were firmly affixed on them. A large man walked up with a basket of shell fruit, and went to hand it to the creatures, shyly. Shellfruit is the symbol of peace in their culture, but it didn't look like they'd be able to understand that, or anything the Mak did. They were so different.
The creature at the head of the group ran back and so did the others, as though they were afraid of the fruit, and the Mak man seemed insulted so he left to retreat to his nest and watch the events from afar.
Somebody shouted, “Give them room,” and the Mak listened. It was a sensible idea, because the creatures would be able to see that that didn't mean them any harm, and it did give them pause for a moment. One even stood up and turned its top portion around, presumably to sense things around it.
It was generally believed that the creatures feared for their own safety, or at least that they were being extremely cautious. They were clearly sentient. They moved deliberately, which was a sign that they knew what they were doing, and the ship they'd come in was manufactured, and when analyzed was shown to have similar technology that the Mak used to fly from planet to planet.
Scientists, politicians, businessman, even simple celebrities with no purpose, flocked to the ship hoping to meet the aliens and get an understanding of who they were. There was a grand ceremony with emissaries and feasts. There were even broadcasts, and scientists analyzing every portion, which many believed would lure them out, but after that day, the aliens remained inside their ship.
There were waves emanating it, that had been discovered, which meant that they were communicating somehow. They must be studying the Mak, which made the race a little uncomfortable in general. At that point, though the race was peaceful by nature, more so than humans, they began to worry about what designs the aliens had for them.
If they had the power to travel from system to system, then they would be capable of great things, things the Mak could barely imagine. Then there was the question of their nature, whether or not they were hostile or if they believed in respecting other sentient life. It was all speculation because they could never get them to come out of their ship.
Ren, Antioch and Cress were quite scared. They'd never seen life quite like what they were calling the spiders. They'd seen them gathering around, plac
ing objects near the ship and bringing instruments. They recognized cameras and spectographs, meant to understand what the ship was made of and record its appearance. They saw a creature take a tiny sample, which terrified them.
Ren was sitting in the circular table on the lower deck of his ship with chopsticks in his hand, but he couldn't eat. He swiped his short blond hair out of his eyes and sat back a bit to look around at his fellow scientists. Antioch and Cress were both eating quietly. Antioch had his auditory implant playing music, judging by the way his black poof of hair nodded up and down while he nodded his head to the music.
Cress was looking down at his bowl of grain like it was an insect. He took a tiny piece and put it in his mouth. He had his black dreadlocks tied in knot in the back of his head. The air around the room was tense.
“We have to make a decision,” Ren declared. “Are we leaving, reporting them, what are we going to do?”
“We should report them.” It was Cress's belief that the species was dangerous.
“Just because they are made of arsenic compounds does not mean the species is going to kill us. Or do you think it's because they look like insects?” Antioch was offended by what he believed to be Cress's racist sentiment. They were both ignorant fools snapping at each other as far as Ren was concerned, but he knew that if he did something that neither of them approved of he could easily get sent out the airlock.
Cress stood up and stared Antioch down, while Ren stared down at his bowl. They'd been doing this ever since they saw the Spiders. “You think that a species made from something that will kill us is going to be diplomatic. It's only a matter of time, and they could be volatile.” Vulgar species, who commit atrocities were more common than peaceful ones.
“I don't think we need to be judging them. I respect all sentient species, and they don't deserve to be enslaved, not until we know more about them.” Antioch stood up and paced around the room. “They will either be enslaved or killed, that's what we do.”
“We do not,” Cress shouted. His face was clenched in fury, Ren began to shake a bit when his lumbering form moved towards Antioch who was barely big enough to lift a cargo box, and he couldn't fight.
“Please name a single species in the entire empire given the same rights as humans.” Antioch was in his face, and the instant a tiny speck of saliva landed on Cress's chest, the man pounced and Ren ran and grabbed a plasma cannon and pointed at the both of them.
“Hey,” he yelled and both men stopped what they were doing and looked over at him with terror. “You two are gonna shut the fuck up and sit the fuck down or I'm going to shoot you both. I have no problem doing it. We will maintain order in this ship.”
Cress, who was on top of Antioch, got up and went back to the table with his head down. Antioch did the same. It was Ren's cold eyes that inspired fear. He was a lot skinnier than any of them, and he could barely fight, but they respected him because he didn't pull the petty games they played.
“Alright. now,” Ren sat down again to address the men, “we believe the species might be dangerous but we're not sure, and I believe that if they are we should report them in order to save mankind from having to deal with a serious threat; however, I will not just report them right away because it will destroy their future. We will study them, and we will do so with every single bit of caution necessary. I will contact the Kendall center right away and send for more ships. They have a trade ship that will be available shortly.”
“Fuck this,” Cress went over to his bunk, which was behind his seat and covered himself in his blanket.
Chapter 9
There are officials who would rather wear their uniforms than do anything of value. They don't mind staring at a screen or doing nothing at all. They'll complete the required minimum and continue about their duty—nothing more.
Tamil was a fighter, somebody who got things done and handled them easily. He considered his placement to be a waste of his potential and a disgusting waste of time. It would've been easier if he had anyone to tell that to, but his station was nothing more than a one man ship with sensors, a bunk, table and replicator. He could travel, but he'd probably be killed for doing it.
He was required to man the bridge and provide visual confirmation whenever something was detected approaching the perimeter of the system. His duties were simple. He was required to respond whenever there was a cognitive signal telling him there was an approaching object. He would have to physically activate the nearest drone and fly it over to the vicinity to inspect it. If it appeared to be made by a living thing, he would have to sound the alarm, and if there was no response he would be required to physically alert the nearest ship.
It was a simple system, and it gave him far too much time to think. He was already connected to the ship's system, so there was no need for him to get acquainted with everything when he got there. All of the information he needed had already been uploaded into his memory. Instead, he chose to slam down on his bunk and enter the private world of his sanctuary.
He stared up at the cold gray and closed his eyes, then he sent out the cognitive command, sending him to a simple blank white space. Henny sometimes preferred it for quick communication because it allowed her to avoid any distractions. “Henny,” he called out.
There was no answer, which was to be expected. She'd said that she might not be able to get back to him right away, that she was leaving Rhoas, but he had no idea why she would leave. He loved that girl, and he knew that she was doing something risky. The sisters would never let her go before her time. She must be trying to escape somehow, which would careen her into unknown territory and possibly put her into danger.
“Whatever you're doing Henny stay safe. I've been assigned to watch duty at Space Station 1543, but if you hunt me down and come here it's likely that you will be shot down. You should've waited till you got a ship. You could've gone anywhere you wanted without having to worry. I don't know how, but I think you're putting yourself in danger. I'm scared. Please contact me. I'm all alone here.”
Once he was done recording the message, he left the sanctuary and found himself staring up at the gray metallic ceiling once again. He didn't get to see much color outside of his ocular implant. His ship was facing the outer edge of the solar system, so all he saw was the black and white of space. Nothing in his ship, except for the tiny bits of food he was allowed to replicate, had any color at all.
He slowly began retreating into the digital world for fear that he might begin to lose his sanity. He lived there. He built a tiny cabin for himself in the middle of the meadow on Rhoas, where he was able to see the flowers any time he wanted to, then he went into civilization and traveled through the networks of people.
He found himself inside of a tiny, gray floating cafe, where they served succulent digital drinks and food, and they had a small bar where he could sit and view the news. He could do it anyways, but people came there to interact and because it was nice to feel like they were going somewhere. He sat at the bar staring into his Usher pudding, wondering what he was going to do next. He couldn't live like this forever, traveling fake streets, dashing up and down stairs to tell the military about tiny asteroids and pieces of ice.
Chapter 10
Every month the trade ships made their way into the Rhoas system to offer their wares to the sisterhood children that lived there. They would travel down to the meadow, bordering the dome and setup a makeshift market place made up of their ships. The entire meadow would be bustling with activity.
It was known as the trade fair, and the children were all given the opportunity to walk through the market and marvel at the wares. They were even given a bit of cash, based up on how good they were as an incentive. It was this money that kept the merchants coming back because the sisterhood was so rich that they could always ensure that the merchants would make a profit. The entire sisterhood was abuzz, students could hardly focus on their classes, and even the ones who looked like they were paying attention were quietly staring out
the window at the autumn sky, wondering what it would be like when they could finally go.
Henny was excited as well, but for a different reason. That day, they were heading out to the carnival, the children were lined up all in a row and were asked to follow their assigned sister around. They all made their way down the cobblestone path in a single file line and stopped in front of the carnival's makeshift entrance.
Sister Isla walked around with a console, assigning every single student with a number, and then went back to the front of the group. She then called out the numbers which were assigned to the different teachers.
Henny was assigned to Sister Athenea group, along with Aygan, a young brunette boy nearly the same age as she was and the Grenley Twins, two 7 year-old gingers who were known for their sour faces and an aversion to everything. Aygan was cocky and playful. His good looks got him where he wanted, and the rumor was that he'd had sex with almost every single girl their age. Henny had never given in to his guile; he was cheery and nice, but he had a more arrogant side to him and it came out in his offhand remarks.
Sister Athenea was wearing the traditional black outdoor cloak which was raised over her head with a square piece of carbon adorned in the middle with a deep purple indigo flower. She was large and mean like a predator wearing a bow, and she had a menacing presence that caught fire when she disapproved of a child's actions.
Sojourn Sol (Eternal Sol) Page 4