by Ahadi, Kion
I saw Wren heading to the lift. In seconds I was behind him.
“Stop or I will blow a hole through you,” I said calmly. He stopped.
“Turn around slowly,” I added. He turned facing me.
“What game are you trying to play?” I asked raising the plasma gun towards his face.
“We are not playing any games with you,” was Wren’s metallic reply.
“You are lying. If you don’t tell me the truth I will blow your face off,” I said my finger twitching on the trigger.
“We were having you followed, that is all.”
A thought struck me: the holographic viewer – of course!
“Nergal is watching us isn’t he? The coward, where is he hiding? That is how you knew I was up here.”
“He is gone. I am the only one left here.”
I didn’t like this game, the acolytes were very cunning. There was an angle here that I couldn’t yet see.
“Move. We are going into the cargo vessel,” I nudged Wren with the gun.
He moved in front of me. Inside the cargo vessel I could see several boxes of telasian grenades. These bombs evaporated matter upon explosion. The Ari-an used them to create tunnels bypassing the need to shift tons of soil. I walked to the control deck of the cargo vessel. I accessed data from the computer which confirmed the craft had detached from a mother ship. I smiled as a wicked thought struck me. I picked up a stun-rod from the side of wall.
“Get out,” I ordered Wren, nudging him outside. Without warning, I thrust the stun-rod into his back. There was an electrical reaction and he fell immobilised. It would only last a few minutes. I went back into the craft. I shut the hatch and turned on the force field. Even with the holographic viewer Nergal would now be unable to view inside the ship. I moved with haste activating the grenades. I used a timer to synchronise their detonation. Then I entered the last co-ordinates the craft had travelled from into the autopilot. I would send the mother ship orbiting in space a nasty surprise. I exited the craft and watched as it powered up for departure. Wren came back to his senses as the last docking clamp disengaged freeing the vessel.
“Get up,” I said. Wren stood. “Move towards the lift.” We made our way into the lift and headed down to Level 6. This was the main chamber. The doors opened, everything was quiet in the area. There was a network of tunnels and capsules leading in different directions from the main platform we stood on.
“Poor unsuspecting pawn,” Wren muttered, followed by some scornful laughter.
“What are you laughing at android? Stop it or I will rip out your vocal cords,” I said, getting angry.
“You saved all those people, but you forgot about the ones most important to you,” Wren said defiantly and then continued sniggering. I struck him across the face with the plasma gun. He fell back onto the railing of the platform.
I pointed the gun at the android’s face. “Tell me what you are talking about or this is your last memory,” I said, unnerved.
“Go ahead shoot… I can be rebuilt,” Wren goaded me.
“You forget who I am, robot. I know your origins. Ari-an scouts discovered your starship that was marooned in deep space beyond this galaxy 5,000 cycles ago. You and the other androids claimed you were remnants from a galaxy that had totally embraced the darkness and self-destructed. So the Dark Gods took you as their acolytes. You three are the most advanced artificial life forms in this galaxy. But being purely artificial means you consist solely of matter. You have no spirit, no energy field that animates your mechanical bodies. If I stick a telasian grenade in your laughing mouth you will be disintegrated. There will be no body left to rebuild. You know the Ari-an do not have the knowledge to recreate you from scratch, and even if the Dark Gods could they would not bother. Now talk if you value your pitiful sentience.” I took the telasian grenade from my pocket.
Wren shifted uneasily, what I had said struck a nerve. He valued his artificial intelligence.
“Take that capsule on the right, it will go to your family,” he said in a high-pitched metallic squeal.
“MY FAMILY!” I was stunned. How could that be? “Tell me the co-ordinates I need or I vaporise you.”
“B-N-O-U-666. Let me go now. I have told you what I know!” Wren begged.
“FOOL. What makes you believe I am so forgiving?” I prodded Wren with the stun rod and activated the telasian grenade. I pushed it into his mouth. There was no resistance as he was momentarily immobilised. As I entered the capsule I heard a minor explosion behind me, signalling Wren’s erasure from the face of existence.
I examined the control deck of the capsule feverishly. This was the one Wren had indicated would lead me to where I needed to go. I entered the co-ordinates and the capsule began to gain speed. I did not know what the length of the journey would be or my final destination. I just knew I had to get there.
***
Nergal took the viewer away from his eyes in horror after watching Wren’s obliteration. At least his comrade had kept Cyrus busy long enough for his plan to be possible. He sent Ofriz a mental message giving him his instructions. Then the android hung back in the shadows as he heard voices coming down the stairs.
“I am glad you liked the paintings in the gallery,” Mr Aleintchev was saying. A young teenage girl accompanied him. She had long luscious brown hair, beautiful olive skin and seemed to drift in her yellow dress as she walked.
“What is down here?” Aiyana asked. She had been shown numerous paintings, but had yet to see the most unique object Mr Aleintchev had promised to show her.
“The most valuable thing in my house is right in front of you,” Mr Aleintchev said pointing to a black block in the centre of the room. Aiyana was disappointed since the slab of stone seemed insignificant.
“What is so special about that stone?” Aiyana asked puzzled.
“It attracts dark energy.”
“What is that? I don’t understand.”
“You don’t need to understand, all you need to know is there are only twelve others like it on the planet.”
“Where are the other ones? How did you get this one?”
“The others belong to wealthy families such as mine. I transported this one from Russia. It has been in my family for generations.”
“What is it used for?” Aiyana asked. She thought the object was far too unimaginative to be a work of art.
“Sacrifice mainly.”
“Sacrifice? Sacrificing what?”
“Animals, children, women… preferably virgins like you,” Mr Aleintchev said as he rested his body against the slab of black marble. He stared at Aiyana with lust in his cold blue eyes. Aiyana felt awkward. She had initially enjoyed the attention she had received from this wealthy, powerful and older man. However, the current tone of the conversation was starting to disturb her.
“I would like to go and join my mum and dad,” she said with a tinge of alarm in her voice and turned back towards the stairs.
At that moment, an odd-looking white-haired man appeared from nowhere to block her path. “Who are you?” Aiyana gasped.
“I am the master of your destiny,” Nergal replied in a metallic voice devoid of emotion.
The sight of a perfect, but evil face with eyes like black lamps caused fear to torment Aiyana’s stomach. Nergal grabbed her as she tried to run past him. Aiyana struggled. It was useless he was far too strong. She tried to scream, but his hand was swiftly over her mouth. Aiyana felt a light prick on her neck and collapsed. Nergal had rendered her unconscious with a drugged needle extended from his finger. He lifted Aiyana’s limp body and slung it over his shoulder.
“You have done well. Go and prepare the others for the spectacle. I will join you soon,” Nergal said to his servant.
“Of course,” Mr Aleintchev replied. He bowed and then walked off to follow his instructions.
***
The corridor reverberated from Dajjal’s frustrated steps. The ceremony with the Dark Gods had not gone well. The earth’s e
nergetic fate remained uncertain as the climax to the current cycle intensified. Alarmingly for Dajjal, the mass energy of humanity had tilted slightly towards light. This meant the Ari-an would potentially have to wait thousands of years for their next opportunity for complete energy takeover; a minor blip in the context of time in the galaxy, but a blip nonetheless. The risk of losing control of the planet altogether if the shift to light increased was what worried Dajjal the most. He did not want to fail the Dark Gods so soon after acquiring his Draco form.
Ofriz sensed his opportunity, “Sire, this is Cyrus’s doing. He has caused us to suffer this set back.”
“Cyrus! He is long dead in the tunnels,” Dajjal hissed like a viper.
“No sire, he survived, he lives,” Ofriz said. Dajjal stopped dead in his tracks. He turned his massive frame and glared at the android with his red eyes.
“How do you know automaton?” Dajjal said his voice like a rumble of thunder.
“He invaded one of our underground bases yesterday, freed captives and killed some Shetie warriors,” Ofriz said in a matter of fact tone.
“What?! And you just tell me now, imbecile?” Dajjal could not contain his rage. He loomed over Ofriz with malicious intent oozing from every pore of his black-scaled skin.
“I was only informed mentally by Nergal seconds ago. They have been unable to stop him.”
“Where is Cyrus now?”
“He is hunting Nergal and will reach him soon. He has already destroyed Wren.”
“Take me to where Nergal is. We end this with Cyrus once and for all.”
“Follow me, Master.” A snide smile flicked across Ofriz’s face as he led Dajjal to the showdown.
***
Mr Aleintchev saw Vlad standing outside the lounge.
“I will not need your services till later tonight. You can go and rest in your quarters,” he said as he approached his bodyguard.
“Of course sir, Megan is inside and I have provided her with refreshments. Where is Aiyana?” Vlad asked, looking around.
“She is using the bathroom then she will join us.”
“Shall I wait for her?”
“No. We toured the whole house together so she will know where to find us.”
Mr Aleintchev watched as Vlad left. He was unsure what the fate of his faithful lapdog would be after this night. The cyborg would have to decide. He opened the door and went inside the lounge.
Megan looked up as Mr Aleintchev entered the room. She was sitting on a comfortable leather settee. Opposite her was a glass table, on it rested a tray of untouched chocolates and coffee.
“Where is Aiyana?” Megan asked immediately.
“She is with your husband. Please follow me and we will go and join them,” Mr Aleintchev said waiting at the door. Megan got up and walked towards him. They left the room and made their way down a long corridor. A few turns followed and then they descended some stairs. Mr Aleintchev made no attempt to talk but Megan did not care, she just wanted to be reunited with Aiyana. She had felt queasy with discomfort the whole duration of their separation. They entered a basement area and passed a large black stone, which made Megan’s skin crawl.
“Why are we going underground?” Megan asked. The need to be courteous seemed a distant concern as trepidation began to overwhelm her.
“We have a grand show to watch and the entertainment room happens to be down here,” Mr Aleintchev replied coolly.
They reached a door at the far end of the area with the stone. Mr Aleintchev opened it and entered. Megan followed. Inside she expected to see her daughter. Instead a tall slender man with white hair stood waiting in the corner. He was wearing a close-fitting grey suit. Megan glanced around and saw her husband sat with his back to her, facing a large window like screen. The stranger began to walk straight over to Megan and, as he approached, an air of menace tainted the atmosphere.
“Sit down in the seat next to your husband,” Nergal said in a loud hollow-sounding voice. Megan stood frozen in a nervous panic. Mr Aleintchev manoeuvred himself behind her.
“What is going on, where is my daughter?” Megan asked, anger getting the better of her fear. The man slapped her across the face. He moved like lightning. She was stunned by the blow and fell back into Mr Aleintchev’s arms.
“Do as you are told or this will turn nasty,” Mr Aleintchev whispered holding the bewildered Megan. He pulled at her blouse, tearing it and began crudely grabbing for her breasts as he held
her from behind. Megan tried to fight free of his grip, but Nergal slapped her again.
“I am going to take you right here on the floor so your husband can hear,” Mr Aleintchev said as he pulled Megan to the ground.
Fury overtook Paymon as he heard what was going on behind him, but he couldn’t move or turn his head as he was clamped into his seat. He had arrived early that day to carry out an inspection of some ‘newly constructed equipment’ for Mr Aleintchev. His boss had asked him to sit in one of the seats to test it. The next thing Paymon knew he had been locked into the seat by a set of metal links. Mr Aleintchev had abandoned him helpless without a word in the soundproof room and that had been hours ago. A few minutes earlier a man had walked in. Paymon had begged and pleaded to be freed, but the odd-looking stranger with white hair had just stood listening and watching him in silence.
“Leave my wife alone you bastards!” Paymon screamed, his eyes streaming from hatred and frustration.
A beeping noise alerted Nergal that a capsule had entered the docking bay.
“Let her go and put her in a seat. There will be plenty of time for that afterwards,” Nergal said to Mr Aleintchev, who was busy trying to tear Megan’s skirt off while she fought desperately to maintain her dignity. He stopped with his assault and dragged Megan by her hair to a chair next to Paymon. He forced her to sit. The metal links locked into place, keeping Megan restrained.
Paymon turned his head to the side as far as the clamp around his neck would permit and tried to glimpse the state of his wife. She was bloody and dishevelled.
“I am sorry darling, I don’t know what the hell is going on,” Paymon said. Megan was deathly quiet.
“Now our fun really begins. Let’s see how Cyrus fairs in battle,” Nergal said. He pressed a switch and the screen facing Megan and Paymon flicked on. There was a scene showing a dark corridor, along which Cyrus was walking vigilantly.
“What do you want with my son and where is my daughter?” Paymon shouted. Nergal walked to Paymon’s seat and drew his face close to his captive.
“I want some pleasure from seeing them in pain. I want to watch you wish you could do something about it, but know you are helpless,” Nergal answered vindictively, looking Paymon in the eye. Paymon felt the wind leave his lungs, his spirit was crushed. Looking back at those black empty lifeless eyes had horrified him. He felt a fear and dread he never knew possible.
***
I walked along a corridor; this was the only way to go from the capsule bay. I didn’t like this place, I could tell it was newly built and for some reason linked to an ancient tunnel system. The journey from California in the capsule had taken around forty-five minutes. The capsule had stopped automatically upon reaching the entered co-ordinates. I had travelled very fast and must have covered thousands of miles. I knew I was in the UK, but where exactly was another story. I had sent a telepathic message to Nadia during my journey letting her know of my predicament and probable destination. I reached a circular arena. It reminded me of a miniature coliseum. There was only one visible exit. I waited with anticipation; very soon I heard heavy footsteps from the way leading back to the capsule bay. Something terrible was approaching.
***
Nadia stood with Cheveyo in the desert of Sedona. Cyrus’s message had sprung her into action. She had left her body and located her sleeping father, as visiting his boss Mr Aleintchev had been Megan’s last destination. She realised now Vlad was an unwitting employee of a servant of the Ari-an. She suspected Cyrus’s family
were likely to be held captive in the mansion where Vlad was sleeping, but she did not know where for sure as parts of the house were protected by an energy field that she had been unable to penetrate. A cloud appeared in the sky and within it a sphere of light formed. In seconds it began descending to earth. Cheveyo had summoned a Sitari. It would transport them across the ocean to Vlad’s location at nearly the speed of light.
***
My heart sank as a black Draco emerged into the arena. Its shoulders were like a mountain range, its wicked red eyes focused on me. I knew it was Dajjal – it was all becoming clear; he had tried to remind me of my choice and let me leave the circular chamber in Valletta because his plan all along had been to get rid of me without seeming to disobey the Dark Gods of the Black Circle. His own elevation in service to them had been his prime concern.