Heretic

by Philip C. Quaintrell

  “You look like shit, kid!” Roland beamed.

  Kalian almost matched his expression. “And you look like… a person.”

  “I wasn’t born with guns strapped to my legs.”

  “Shouldn't you be out, bounty hunting or something?”

  “Len thinks so, but I figured I’d stick around for a bit. I get the feeling things are about to get exciting around here.” Roland wrapped his knuckles against Garrion’s armoured chest. “Do your thing, tin-man.”

  Garrion’s dark complexion and long dreadlocks loomed over Kalian, a serious expression etched across his face. The Gomar slowly waved a hand over Kalian’s body and closed his eyes.

  “He is back to health,” Garrion announced. “And I detect no traces of nanocelium.”

  Kalian didn't say anything, but that should have taken the Gomar a fraction of the time to conclude. If Garrion possessed the finer skills among the remaining Gomar, Kalian would have his work cut out.

  “That’s good to hear.” Kalian made a quick telekinetic tug at the IV lines and monitoring devices, pulling them all free of his body.

  “Take it easy,” Li’ara warned. “You were practically dead by the time we got you any real help, though if it wasn't for the Gomar we would never have got the armour off you.” She looked at the small triangular device beside his bed, with the apex removed.

  Kalian resisted the urge to place the device under his navel and adorn the exo-suit, his second skin. Instead, he replied with a reassuring smile and hooked a red curl behind Li’ara’s ear. He had a hundred questions but knew the quickest way to get them wasn't through words. At the speed of thought, Kalian expanded his awareness and took in his unseen surroundings.

  The revelation took his breath away.

  Without warning, Kalian jumped up from the bed, wearing only a pair of loose-fitting pyjamas, and made for the door. He ignored the calls and protests and quiet alarms from his room. He needed to see this.

  The balcony, attached to the corridor, automatically opened up after detecting his presence. Glorious sunshine washed against his skin, shining down from a sky of pure blue. He tentatively approached the edge, already aware of the scene beyond. He just needed to see it with his eyes.

  Make-shift buildings and houses had been set up to form a street, with Kalian’s building at the head. Hundreds of people, humans all, walked through the streets in couples and families. The general hubbub was music to his ears and he soaked it up, allowing a single tear to breach his eye.

  “They did it…” Kalian said to himself.

  “You did it, Kalian.” Captain Fey appeared at the door behind him. “The Vanguard was irrefutable proof that they exist, and they mean us all harm. You arrived, as you always do,” Captain Fey added with a proud smile, “and saved us all. Uthor pressed upon the Highclave, that had the Vanguard wiped us all out, it would have no doubt targeted Arakesh next.” She took a step closer. “They’re taking this seriously now, they’re taking us seriously. Naydaalan told us of the impending invasion, the harvest, but there are many who wish to hear it from you. Apparently, you, experienced it?”

  Kalian had seen through ALF’s mind what was coming, but he doubted there would be a lot of trust when the AI was yet again their only source of information. He wanted to answer and tell them everything, but he was drawn back to the new landscape. Their landscape! He noticed Li’ara give Captain Fey the faintest of head shakes. They were giving him time to process it all, despite the fact that his mind was now capable of taking in so much more than before. He was glad of it, though, if only so he could enjoy the moment.

  “This is our world?” he asked. “It’s not temporary?”

  “It is indeed your world.” Telarrek and Naydaalan appeared behind Roland. Garrion was missing from the group, but Kalian had already detected his absence and even tracked his unique signature back to the other Gomar, deeper inside the building.

  “Greetings of peace!” Kalian wrapped arms with Naydaalan first, mentally scanning his leg and happy to find synthetic bones.

  “You have my thanks, for returning my son, Kalian.”

  “He kept me alive just as much as I did he.” Kalian patted the younger Novaarian on the arm, affectionately.

  Once again, he found himself leaning over the balcony and taking in the sight of a hundred thousand humans, just going about their lives under a real sky. There were even a few aliens mixed in, apparently helping the humans with various pieces of technology.

  “There will be more, in time.” Telarrek joined him by the railing. “Right now, every human and family has their own home.”

  Kalian couldn't stop smiling. “It’ll grow...”

  He turned back and found a lot of expectant faces. They had the bare bones from Naydaalan’s recounting, but he had the details. They all wanted to know the truth about ALF, the reason for the Gomar and the real origin of mankind. Kalian had quite the story to tell.

  “Gather the Gomar and anyone else who needs to hear everything. I’m only going to say it once and then I want some time…” he looked at Li’ara and failed to hide his smile, “alone.”

  It was dark by the time he had finished telling of his time in the Terran Empire. The Gomar had retreated, together, with a lot to discuss between them. Kalian decided he would approach them tomorrow after they had taken the time to get to grips with everything. Their lessons would have to begin immediately.

  Captain Fey and Holt had dropped into serious conversation with the council and Telarrek, while Naydaalan had apparently been taken in by Roland and the Raiders, who were basically a team of miniature Rolands. It was clear that a rapport had been built between the bounty hunter and the soldiers, just as it had between those of the Paladin and the seven thousand survivors.

  Kalian kicked his legs against the side of the building, which was apparently a makeshift hospital come council headquarters, and looked up at the stars. Both he and Li’ara sat on the lip of the roof with a Raalakian ale in hand.

  “So…” Kalian said aloud.

  “So…” Li’ara repeated.

  “You have an artificial leg.”

  The statement flustered Li’ara for just a second. “Yes, I do. Blowing up the Protocorps cube came with a price. Thankfully, Sef was there, being you I suppose.”

  “I’m sorry I-”

  Li’ara held up her ale to silence him. “You were doing what you needed to do, and I was doing what I needed to do.”

  There was silence between them for a moment, but it wasn't awkward. After the mental bond created between the two, the pair had gone beyond words to understand each other.

  “You know the last time we discussed…. us,” Kalian began, “You were pretty clear about duty and responsibility coming first.” He stole a glance into her green eyes and felt his heartbeat quicken. “Well it seems to me that humanity is never going to be clear of trouble, so we should…”

  Li’ara leaned over and kissed him with more passion than she had aboard the Marillion. “I’m never pushing you away again.” She gripped his jaw a little tighter. “And you’re never leaving me again.”

  They kissed some more and enjoyed the comfort and warmth of each other’s embrace. They looked out over the new human city, constructed by the Conclave’s engineers in conjunction with the human engineers.

  “I always thought I’d be there when the Highclave said yes.”

  Li’ara chuckled. “From what Telarrek told me, Captain Fey wasn't taking no for an answer this time.”

  “You weren't there?” Kalian looked down at her face, perched on his shoulder.

  “I never left your side.”

  They kissed again and sat for a time, looking at the stars and catching up on Li’ara’s three months hiding in the capital and learning to walk again. Kalian felt guilty for most of it and promised himself he would thank Sef tomorrow and perhaps for the rest of time.

  Kalian looked up, at the brightest star in the night’s sky.

  “He can't come down,” L
i’ara said. “ALF was told by Uthor that he had to remain in orbit around the sun. No physical contact allowed.”

  Kalian sighed. “And the Gomar aren't allowed off-world, either.”

  Li’ara nodded. “It was the terms of membership.”

  “When this war really starts, we’re going to need both of them on the front lines.”

  “We’ll deal with that when it comes to it,” Li’ara agreed. “For now…” Her tone took on a lighter, happier tone. “Captain Fey and the council have asked me to relay a question. They’re going to make a public thing of it tomorrow with bells and whistles and whatnot, but they were hoping you’d have an answer by then.”

  Kalian raised his eyebrow, his curiosity peaked. “What?”

  “Due to your continuing contributions to humanity and your part in securing us this planet, they would like you to name it…”

  Kalian sat up straight, shocked. “They want me to name humanity’s new home planet? Are you serious?”

  Li’ara laughed. “Yes!”

  Kalian took a breath. “I’ve never named a planet before… how about Keith? Planet Keith!” Li’ara’s expression told of her feelings on the matter. “No? How about Kalian?”

  They shared a laugh and Li’ara playfully punched him in the arm. “Be serious. This world is our home now.”

  Kalian pulled Li’ara in and squeezed her around the shoulders, letting her head fall back onto him. He thought about their home, the home no human or even Terran had ever seen; the planet from which they were all birthed, so far away. He could practically smell the forests of Evalan and feel the grass under his feet.

  “I might have an idea…”

  On the furthest edge of the galaxy, the distant stars could no longer be seen through the massing of dark ships, each blending into the void of space. Vessels, some as large as moons, collected on the fringe of the milky way, all of them hungry. It had been some time since their last harvest, diverting to this galaxy to finally ensure the destruction of humanity and the death of the heretic.

  All were linked as one... and One controlled all. The fog of black ships shared in the One’s rage at the Conclave’s victory. There was no recorded history, outside of the events surrounding Evalan, in which one of their collective had been destroyed. Now there was. The Vanguard had been reduced to atoms and fed to a star by the heretic and his diseased creations.

  The three that were One came together in the observatory, each in the unique appearance of their chosen species, from across the universe. Tentacles, tails and pincer-like legs came together between them, as they looked out over the new galaxy.

  “Communications have been established,” the nameless one said.

  “The Starforges are ready to open,” the other finished.

  “Excellent…” the third, made predominantly from tentacles, replied, slithering closer to the transparent force-field to look out on the galaxy. “Before we feed, there will be war…”