Genesis - the Battle Within (Pillars of Creation Book 1)

by David Tucker

  His dark hair fell naturally and neatly to one side of his face, longer at the fringe than at the back, which he preferred to the Way of the Sacred’s regulated and much longer cut for Wielder classes. Of course this had also angered the Elders, but he’d seen little point in pleasing them at the time; they already had a list of other complaints and problems with him of late, which are about to increase, he thought with a sneer. Genesis used his nanos to draw his hair back, shortening his fringe so as not to cover his right eye and to get a closer look at himself.

  His face was young, with a slight edge of wisdom creeping into it; sharp blue eyes and high cheekbones betraying his youth. He had a fresh handsome quality that continued through his angular carved body. Muscular in a sinewy way, but not brawny or excessive, his body carried him with what looked to be a strengthened resolve and a naturally powerful stance. This look was earned, he knew only too well, through use and not sculpting, a leanness that came from extensive apprenticeship and demand from his frequently overstressed—

  With a shock, his view went beyond his face, drawn to an object lying behind him. Turning his attention to the object and away from thoughts of his extensive training, he realised that it was in fact not an object at all, it was a metre-wide dent in the nano-steel floor, surrounded by heat scoring. He recognised it as his own design.

  “Slath,” Genesis exclaimed aloud, “even an Immortal doesn’t have that kind of strength.” The dent was at least half a metre deep in solid two-metre thick nano-steel, “Slath”, he swore again. Whatever the Tel’nagara had done to him, his convulsive and disastrous state had created huge amounts of power, enough to leave a large amount of evidence around him. Genesis glanced around, seeing the damage in the form of the wrecked room and destroyed machinery. He leant forward to examine the dents closely, and made out the slight knuckle imprints with blood smeared across the indents.

  His expression twisted in confusion as he muttered aloud, “That’s odd, Me’lina always told me when I was injured, even if only slightly.”

  He looked down at his almost completely healed knuckles, and she’d never healed me without first gaining my approval; even on a subconscious level …

  Genesis saw the last of the blood recede into his skin and the flesh start knitting. Damn it, he fretted further, I have to find out what’s going on with her as well. This was all becoming most concerning, overwhelming and frightening.

  Out of concern for his welfare, Genesis reached out and tried to shift some of the nanos within the floor; the area smoothed a little but not enough to hide much of the damage. He raised his eyes and gave up almost immediately as he noticed the full extent of the damage extending across most of the walls and ceiling.

  He’d always been praised for his skills in manipulating nanos within foreign compounds – yet he realised even he was ill-equipped for fixing such a large area. Although he knew he wasn’t strong enough to fix the room entirely, he gave it another shot as he didn’t need property damage added to his growing list of problems.

  As he concentrated, his eyes widened as the entire room bent and twisted even further from its original shape, his power lashing out dangerously. He was forced to spring back as the overhead vents crashed beside him with an ear-piercing clamour.

  The noise subsided just as quickly as it had started. Genesis blinked at the destruction coming from within him, appearing from nowhere. He now understood he was out of control and he’d be best to give up on his use of Rieft powers, at least until the fluctuations were gone, or he knew more of what the Tel’nagara had done to him, and before something else happened, in a more public setting—

  Genesis blanched as the side wall materialised into a door, turning as it squealed noisily on its askew frame. Five armoured marines clattered loudly through the space, their combined bulk forcing them to stand in a formal line. Genesis regarded them, trying hard to look casual amidst the carnage around him.

  Chapter 20 The Jackal’s Jaws

  The marine’s yellow-crested squad leader, after staring around the mess for painstaking seconds, took point as her fully TPA-clad privates spread out behind her, rifles at the ready. A voice crackled out of her helmet, sounding firm, and ready for no nonsense.

  “Commander Genesis, I am Captain Tessa Scarlet of internal security and you’re to report immediately to Admiral Antipatros on the bridge. We’re here to escort you due to some unusual power fluctuations throughout the ship, do you copy?”

  Genesis bet that wasn’t exactly what Antipatros had said but he allowed the marines to fall in around him, ready to be escorted to the bridge. Genesis couldn’t help but smirk as the last one looked quizzically at the strangely dented floor and gouged walls and ceiling. The Immortal shrugged, speaking casually to the man, still trying to sound unconcerned, “Unbelievable isn’t it, the admiral has really let this place go don’t you think, Private?” The marine didn’t bother to answer as he shoved Genesis forward, likely glowering under his armour.

  The strange group marched straight from the medical wing of Aspire through the myriad winding passages, through the barracks and living quarters, before finally heading in a rough direction towards the lifts that would take them up to the bridge. Technicians, engineers and security teams alike jostled in each area, all busy with their various jobs, many looking bleary eyed, obviously being awakened by the alarms from the ship’s lights being knocked out. Occasionally one shot a sidewards glance, recognising the Immortal’s face from SED media – but just as quickly averted their gaze and sending a flurry of hushed whispers to co-workers as the attributed souls hurried to move out of the squad’s way.

  As Genesis was marched along he gave a sigh at how far removed his sanction had lifted him from these, the common men. Even though this was his commissioned vessel, he was rarely allowed to travel outside his living, meditation and training quarters. Only Antipatros and a few top-level captains were privy to access him in these high security, sealed areas. This was the reason his presence, like in most other places, was an obvious surprise to these regular ensigns.

  Genesis pushed at the loneliness, which had somehow worsened since being commissioned to Aspire. Even Antipatros rarely visited these days, and Genesis knew full well that he and many of his fellow staff hated having him on board. Antipatros was an agnostic, and a stout believer in the SED’s iron fist and militaristic rule of Earth and her colonies; as were many of the handpicked staff Antipatros transferred here for this very reason.

  Genesis knew Antipatros thought that these selected Terithians were much more subordinate to his command than the likes of Way of the Sacred loyalists. When Antipatros was out of the eyes of religious officials, this led to many arguments between him and Genesis, and was one of the main reasons why, luckily for Genesis, Aspire was fitted with his own small, Class 1 corvette, docked purposefully for any expeditions the Sacred may need him to embark upon.

  Genesis scowled at this last thought – unfortunately of late, his ship had been locked down and his relationship with Antipatros had yet again become critically low. Which, as Genesis was pushed down another corridor, was all the more reason he was feeling more than a little unnerved about the welcoming party surrounding him.

  Genesis had studied their every movement in the seconds they’d surrounded him, and ascertained the soldiers were all on edge. He could feel it; even without his new strange abilities he could tell they were nervous. He squared his jaw as he gave no hint of his hesitation, but began flicking through the facts in his mind of what was going to happen; trying to understand the admiral’s actions and possible motives for treating him so unwelcomingly – despite the obvious power outage. Genesis always found this hard with such cold-hearted militaristic non-believers. They always managed to surprise him … and never pleasantly.

  The fact that his Delta boys were not the ones sent to assist in escorting him gave him the most cause for concern. Worryingly, his protectorate squad were nowhere to be seen. Genesis hoped they’d been sent abroad; the team
was probably in as much danger aboard Aspire as it was in mission with the likes of Antipatros around. Nobody was safe when sole ambition was helming a course.

  Delta squad had long been dubbed the leash holders, showing a loyalty through many trials that allowed Genesis to give what little trust he had to them. He also knew this loyalty infuriated the admiral, who demanded all ties be only to him, sending the squad on errands that were far beneath them.

  Genesis bleakly smiled at the term leash holders, he knew it was only ever used behind the squad’s back, and even then often in whispered tones. Each unit of the squad was unparalleled in their specified field, and therefore commanded respect, or at the very least demanded fear. Their repertoire for brutal combat, hand-to-hand or otherwise, and chilling tactical precision, had been well proven over the many years they’d worked together and was well known amongst other units, even outside their military.

  His brow wrinkled, his concern increased as he dwelled on the team, and he hoped his foresight wasn’t trying to tell him something – unfortunately he could rarely tell. He knew that for his men not to be meeting him meant his presence was being kept top secret, ringing more alarm bells and speaking volumes about the admiral’s intent.

  Genesis lost concentration as he vaguely pushed at one of his temples again; a residual spike of pain finding its way back, radiating and lancing up his spine.

  Slath, he cursed silently. He fought at the pain and felt it slowly subside with effort. Yet even as he tried a meditation technique, channelling the pain from his conscious self, it was still a considerable struggle. Genesis scowled deeply; for reasons unknown to him his abilities seemed to be fading in and out and were insanely hard to control, and now seemed even to be waning at times into non-existence.

  He struggled as he thought back to the collapse and pain. He had no idea what had gone on in that room or what had been done to him. Frustratingly, he knew he needed to study himself if he was to obtain any clues to what the Tel’nagara had done, but Antipatros wasn’t giving him the time to do so, and with his AWOL personality and AI on the fritz he doubted he could ascertain—

  Genesis felt himself totter again, and for a second miss a step as he simultaneously felt the moods of each marine encircling him, just like before with the med officer. His head buzzed and he felt shooting pains. The men were puzzled about why the Immortal had stopped, and were cautious of him stumbling and holding his head. Genesis could clearly sense the impression of their thoughts beyond what was normal for his capabilities – far beyond in fact.

  The pain suddenly vanished, like before, and for a second Genesis could almost see through the marines’ eyes, peering from inside their helmets as they looked to one another unsure of what to do, unusually nervous, even for the situation at hand. His new ability confirmed at least that much as he tried to straighten himself through their eyes.

  He lingered a second though, within their minds, as he couldn’t believe how clearly he could read the men. Normally for him to feel emotions this clearly, through the Rieft, he would need to meditate intently, exhorting massive amounts of power and leaving him, or any other Wielder for that matter, drained for hours. And still he doubted if he would be able to see through the Rieft as clearly.

  Genesis felt power washing over him as before; he moved again, struggling but concentrating on one step after the next, ready to go on as relief flushed through the marines, all gripping their rifles just a little tighter. He ignored them as they reformed and continued, and used all his ability to stay upright and objective.

  He could scarcely believe the power he was wielding. All his life he’d wanted to feel even a vague echo of what was freely running through his veins now. This felt relatively effortless, despite the pain – it felt so much more natural. Bizarre, considering the alien origin and pervasiveness of the inception. An Immortal’s normal technique to achieve the ability of sensing others was forceful, invasive and almost wrong. This felt more like what was meant to be, how it was recorded, and unlike the stressful and sometimes painful techniques Osiris had trained them all with. This was almost the opposite, an enlightening and refreshing feeling.

  Genesis started to worry again. To delve into the minds of others, without their knowledge or permission, was wrong, he knew this. He realised the power that had found him was seducing – coaxing him into depths his religion would never allow.

  With physical effort he struggled to shut off the talent or energy, or whatever it was, as best he could, or at least to keep it at bay. He knew he needed to be more careful; he shouldn’t be letting it goad him into utilising it.

  Before he’d managed to shut it off completely, he touched it for a brief second. Of its own accord, stroking at his Rieft talents, Genesis perceived the colossal energy in its entirety. The young Immortal shuddered from the raw power and nearly missed his next step as he gasped for air. The closest marine grumbled, shunting him. But scaring him just as much as the marine, before the marine’s hand left Genesis he was blasted sideways as a spark of lightning leapt off his skin—

  The poor trooper disappeared down a side corridor, somersaulting from view. It happened so fast that no one in the group even noticed as they continued, the entire event unfolding silently.

  Genesis couldn’t dwell on the incident. He was forced to focus on the ocean of energy inside him. He tried to make his mind peel away from the power, but it followed, not menacingly yet more in curiosity, as Genesis retracted his own probing mind.

  He snapped barriers in place, sectioning off this entire area of cognition, trying to shield his Rieft and mind, using the Rieft to do so. Genesis knew this was an impossible task. How could he shield against something when he was unable to expose the shield itself? Searching frantically for an answer, he found the one section of his mind that was well suited for such a task.

  He reserved a quarantined area of his mind even from his Rieft – the Rieft washing around it and pressuring and hemming it in – it was his primary area for injuries or excessive pain, physical or emotional. Genesis felt relief as he receded into this part of his mind. He thought he had victory over the foreign power; however, just as suddenly, the power seeped straight through his barrier. Genesis flinched, expecting the worse.

  But just as quickly and almost instantly it subsided, disliking the pain it felt in this new area, and happy to just show Genesis that it was not just something to be governed or caged, and powerful enough to break free of his restraints and sit tight or move where it liked, freely. Without warning it gave him the impression of thought, and Genesis in frightful realisation, perceived what he was seeing and understood this was not the alien’s compound he was seeing. The energy he saw was what the Elders had explained to him many years ago – the power that would never happen within a Rieft user such as him.

  In his initial schooling with his masters, passed down by the ancient Tel’nagara instructors when they first interpreted the Sacred Temple, he had learned that they were not intended to see the Rieft to its fullest extent. It was a safeguard for both the Immortal and the Order. No one could perceive the Rieft’s fullest extent. This was reserved only for the insane or … the realisation hit him hard.

  No, Genesis rejected the idea as his thoughts darkened.

  He rejected the Elder’s words and scriptures of the Reborn Prophet as he processed the thought, I … of all Immortals, due to my heritage and blockage, will never be able to see the Rieft, and I am not of the Reborn. This is not intended for me, this isn’t something I want. The alien’s obviously tricking my mind, its injection seduced me into thinking I’d seen the Rieft … but it’s a lie.

  Yet despite what he now knew, and from genuine concern, he looked upon the Rieft inside him freely, ascertaining where its lie began and his Rieft ended. Genesis groaned with the effort. Yet he could see the Rieft … can’t I? He was seeing it now, through the alien’s concoction. Maybe it was the Rieft … Genesis felt inner turmoil as he found it hard to believe what he was sensing – whatever t
hat might be. Like a great creature spawned from energy, he gazed upon it in truth, residing inside him ready to tear apart any that threatened him or as a result, it.

  But this seemed different to what the Elders described of its identity. Genesis looked harder, relishing the privilege even if it might be false. Even the impression was awe-inspiring.

  He realised that if his schooling was true, whatever the Tel’nagara had missed in his religious training, it was more than just a few key components. For what he felt was amazing, it wasn’t draining in the least, it was like breathing for the very first time, on his own. Genesis straightened, allowing the fear to melt so he could see the Rieft more clearly, which seemed to mean him no harm … it seemed to be letting him know it was there in fact.

  The lie’s too well-constructed to be false, he thought. Unlike the many scoffs and scolds of his tutors, Genesis went against all their words for the first time, he could see the Rieft. But not only was he seeing it, he was preserving its entirety, and it was perceiving him. No Immortal was supposed to be able to do this. Slath, the Tel’nagara had truly messed around inside him, and Genesis could now begin to understand … and he felt the peril of his grave situation.

  Yet still he couldn’t drop his gaze from the dynamic being. Unlike what he’d been told, it didn’t seem to be an element to control, it was more a living creature to be allied to, and set free. It didn’t threaten his sanity in the least, it was not ready to devour him; it just resided there, looking for sanctuary within him and some other goal that he was as yet unsure of.