The Gatekeepers (The Survivors Book Eight)

by Nathan Hystad

  Magnus turned and stopped. “Were you serious?”

  “About what?

  “The ship. The first Alliance of Worlds vessel.”

  “Why not? It would send a message that we’re serious about things, about the new relationships. The more we integrate among the other races out there, the less threatening humans are,” I said.

  “And you think they’d be okay with a human captain?” he asked with a smile.

  “I don’t see why not. If it works, we can make another, and another. Maybe a whole fleet eventually,” I said, dreaming big. “There’s so much out there to see, Mag, and not all of it is accessible through the portals. Plus, if we lose them, we’ll need other means of transportation. This could help trade, and so many other things.” The more I spoke about it, the more excited I became at the possibility.

  “And you, do you want to lead the ship?” he asked, quieter now.

  I almost laughed but held it in. “I don’t think I’m cut out for that kind of role. I do think Mary and I would be interested in joining you for the first while. Imagine how fun it would be to have the whole team around for a year or so. Clare, Nick, Suma, Rivo, maybe even Regnig. Everyone can be part of this.”

  Magnus started forward again, waving his flashlight beam slowly over the rocky landscape. “Sounds like you’ve made up your mind. This is happening.”

  “I guess it is,” I agreed.

  “Good. Because I think our kids growing up beside each other is their destiny,” he said with a smirk.

  “Agreed.”

  Slate’s voice cut through. “Boss, we found signs of someone being here. A protein bar from Haven. But nothing else.”

  I tapped the mic to all channels. “Then we reconvene at the rendezvous. See you two there soon.” I turned to Magnus. “Shall we?”

  His eyes were focused on the dim lights in the distance. It could be a small city, but I knew one thing. It was our only lead.

  Eleven

  The hunter sniffed the air. It was full of amazing scents, unlike anything he’d ever come across. Here the land was more fruitful: crops grew lush from the ground, animals were penned in groups, making his feeding so simple. He moved from farm to farm, devouring one small animal from each, somehow finding his taste for what he now knew to be chickens and pigs lacking.

  He’d tasted the best meat, and the shapeshifter wasn’t able to shake the euphoric high he felt when digesting a human. He smoothed his long brown hair and caught a glimpse of himself in a puddle of water. It had rained, and it continued to drizzle as he leaned over the pool, catching the sight of blue eyes and a slender female face staring back at him. She didn’t look like the other humans, and if he wanted to interact with them, to eat more, he had to fit in.

  He needed to become her in order to consume and digest her body, so he could feed again.

  The hunter spat out a feather and wiped his blood-drenched mouth with a dirty sleeve before standing up straight. It felt strange to walk on two legs, and he lumbered forward, each step eventually smoothing out as he went along the gravel road.

  He’d been watching the farms and land, seeing who was home and who wasn’t. There were two houses that appeared empty, and he made his way to the first one. It had a garden out back, and if he was desperate for sustenance, he could feed like a bottom-dweller and eat some of it for the nutrients.

  The rain descended again, and he shook his head like an animal, long hair flapping wetly around his head. He was too used to being in a human body. He wanted shelter, a roof and the warmth of a fire.

  He stepped up the wooden deck in the rear of the house and pressed on the door handle. It was locked. He stepped away and kicked out with all his strength, shattering the wood along the jamb, and the door flew open. He grinned, a sadistic look on his female face, and stepped in, happy to be out of the incessant rain.

  The hunter pressed the door shut, and the wind blew it open again. He saw a chair in the kitchen and grabbed it, shoving it in front of the door, and this kept it in place. He sighed and felt the bones of the chicken inside his stomach begin to dissolve.

  He searched through the house, making sure there was no one inside, and he found it empty. Cold. There was a fireplace in the living room, and he used it. A short time later, he peeled off the wet clothes and sat naked on the floor, the flames licking high into the hearth. The heat was nice, and he rolled onto his side, seeing his distended stomach. He’d eaten his fill and would be good for a few days.

  Eventually, the hunter rose and saw a framed picture on the mantel. The human brains he’d consumed told him this was likely the family that lived here. It was their nest. He held the picture in his hand and studied their faces. A man. A woman. A child. She was small, young, and her eyes were a bright glowing green. He’d never seen something like that before.

  She must be special. The hunter imagined consuming the girl and becoming small like her, letting the parents take care of him. He could sleep and rest, and grow stronger.

  Those green eyes drew him in, and he held the picture inches from his own eyes as he stared at them. Yes. He could smell her. The scent was all throughout the house. He sensed the power in her, and wondered if he’d gain that supremacy when he ate her flesh and digested her bones. He’d wait here. Wait for them to return, and when they did, he’d secretly end her and take her place.

  The hunter felt good about it and settled to the floor. It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep. Even while sleeping, a smile spread across his face.

  ____________

  “What do you think they’re like?” Karo asked.

  Slate hefted his pack off his shoulders and set it on the ground. “It didn’t look so far from our perch by the portal.”

  “I’m assuming you mean the people here?” I asked Karo.

  “Yes. Are we potentially walking into a hostile situation?” Karo asked.

  I considered all the worlds we’d entered this way, and most of them had been sparsely populated. It made me wonder how many planets were actually full of advanced civilizations like the Bhlat, Shimmali, or Keppe.

  “We’re always potentially walking into hostile territory,” Magnus said, swinging his pulse rifle into his hands. We were a couple miles from the city, which we now thought might be a fortress of some sort. The lights weren’t spread out very far, but they appeared to be towers, with bright beams rotating around the rocky ground like search lights.

  “Maybe they’re looking for us,” I said.

  “Could be,” Magnus said. “I didn’t see any cameras set up at the portal, but that doesn’t mean they weren’t watching us with satellites or drones.”

  “Speaking of which. What happened with the drone you sent off?” I asked Magnus.

  “Stupid me. I was so caught up with our discussion, I forgot to check.” He lifted his arm, resting the barrel of his gun over his shoulder. “Looks like… it’s gone. The feed is gone.”

  Slate stood behind him, peering over his other shoulder. “Go to the beginning. What happened to it?”

  Magnus began to rewind the footage when the lights rose from our destination.

  “Looks like we have company coming,” Karo advised.

  “Four ships.” I grabbed my gun too. “Kind of hard to defend against an incoming enemy on foot. I hope they’re friendly.”

  Slate was frowning. “I have a feeling we’re about to find out.” The lights moved for us now, and I shoved Magnus to the side as a red blast pulsed from the closest vessel.

  “Everyone hide. Lights off!” Slate shouted, and we obeyed, flicking our EVA systems to dark. We scrambled away from the ships, which were hovering around us now. We each moved apart, not wanting to risk being fired at in a group.

  “What do we do?” Karo asked quietly.

  No one had time to answer. A bright light enveloped me, reminding me of the bright space Not-Dean had communicated with me through.

  My body went weightless, and I scanned for the others, unable to see anything in
the vastness of light.

  “Slate! Magnus! Karo!” I received no answer as I floated, my pack left behind on the ground.

  We were moving now, the ship carrying me in its tractor beam. It wasn’t long before it stopped and I was spat out, propelled violently from the beam onto the ground. I spun in the air before crashing to the ground, which, luckily, was grass-covered instead of rocky like the rest of the landscape we’d seen.

  I tried to sit up, to defend myself, and saw that my gun was missing too. I cursed and rolled to the side as Karo’s tall form came tumbling from another ship. Slate was next, and we weren’t able to move in time. He crashed into us, and I was grateful for the EVA’s layers of protection. My ribs ached where his knee hit, and Slate lay on his front, groaning.

  “You okay?” I asked him, and his helmet moved enough for me to know he was alive.

  Karo was on his feet, fists clenched, ready to defend himself and us. I was right behind him, pushing myself up and feeling lightheaded as I did. My neck ached from the fall, and I feared the strain wouldn’t end there.

  We were in a courtyard, beyond the walls we’d seen from two miles away, and I looked up to see one of the towers the lights had been cast out from. The barriers were tall, at least a hundred feet, and made of the same black rock as the ground beyond the fortress.

  “I think we answered whether the locals were hostile or not,” Slate said, finally standing of his own volition. His lip was bleeding inside his helmet, and he shook his head as if trying to clear his foggy mind. That was never a good sign.

  “What is this place?” I was trying to understand, then I saw the forms walking along the wall, and the guns. Drones hovered in the air around the courtyard, and I noticed the many outbuildings. It hit me, and I answered my own questions. “It’s a prison.”

  Slate looked around and nodded. “It is. Damn it.”

  Karo took a step ahead and gazed into the dark sky. “Where’s Magnus?”

  He was right. The big Scandinavian hadn’t been tossed inside with us. I scanned for a ship, but none were visible. “Hopefully, he hid before they saw him,” I said.

  Slate grimaced. “Or else, the worst might have happened.”

  We were alone in the courtyard, and I scanned around, trying to see if there was any escape. I couldn’t find one, and even if there was a way to scale the walls, the guards up there would make quick work of us. “Does anyone have weapons on them?”

  Karo patted his suit and shook his head. I didn’t either and told them so. Slate smiled and pulled a blade from his suit. “I have to hide this. They’re going to search us.” He knelt down and tore a chunk of grass out. We stood around him, blocking his silhouette from the wall’s view. Seconds later, the knife was gone from his grip and the patch of grass was flush with the ground. Slate stepped on it for good measure.

  It was the perfect timing, because a door from one of the stone-carved buildings opened, and five beings rushed out, each with a slender harpoon-shaped gun in their hand. They spoke in rushed phrases, and the translator didn’t relay their words.

  “I think they’re telling us to get on our knees, or raise our hands or something,” Slate said through clenched teeth.

  I did both. They neared us, with weapons aimed steadily. They were short, only three feet tall, but I wasn’t about to equate that with capability. It was their home, and they were the ones with the guns pointed at us.

  One of them took the lead, standing at the front of their group. It spoke again, this time slower, less threatening. The translator clicked in, and I glanced at my arm console to see the device attempting to calculate the dialect.

  The being spoke again, and this time, I heard English words in my ear. It had found a language similar enough, and I knew the translator technology was already piecing it together. The leader tilted his head over to the others and said something else, his tone less hostile.

  “Quite the collection we have now,” the translator said for the guard. He was wearing all black and appeared to be shielded in armor. I could only see the eyes, which were bulbous and red-veined behind a slit visor. Its head was too large for its skinny body, and I glanced down to see tiny hoofed feet balancing it out.

  His words made me bristle. He called us part of their collection, and after seeing the Collector on the other side of the dimension where we’d found Magnus, I didn’t want to end up on display somewhere, frozen in time.

  I flipped my speaker on and spoke, hoping the translator would function in their recently learned language. “Hello. I’m Dean Parker from Earth. I represent the Alliance of Worlds, and am part of a collective including the Keppe, Bhlat, Motrill, Molariuns, Shimmali… you get the point, I could go on for a while with this list.”

  I waited on my knees while the words translated. Karo and Slate were in the same position as I was, and the Theos locked eyes with me, concern etched all over his face. I forced a smile at him, trying to convey that we’d be all right.

  The leader heard me and spoke. “Those names mean nothing to us. Wait. Bhlat; that is what the large one called his people. Ulpo, am I mistaken?”

  One of the others stepped forward, this one even shorter than the first. He was stockier too, almost round. “He is Bhlat, you are correct.”

  Dreb was with them, and they were speaking in present tense about him too. That meant he was alive. “Can we see Dreb?” I asked, and their eyes flicked to meet my gaze. Ten bulging red eyes, behind black visors, all focused on me. I wanted to break the stare but wouldn’t let myself.

  “You will see Dreb, and the other.” Then a sound that I could only assume was laughter.

  Slate cleared his throat, and I saw that his hand was near the patch of grass where he’d hidden the knife. I thought about our odds and didn’t like them, so I shook my head. He nodded his understanding.

  “Get up.” The lead alien gestured with his slim weapon, and we stood now as three guards came to stand behind us.

  We followed two of them, with guns pressed against us, toward the far left corner of the courtyard. They were leading us to an entrance, and I had a sick moment where I feared if we went inside, we’d never see the sky again. With a last glance at the wall, I hoped Magnus was alive. He might have escaped before they lashed him into their beams. Stay strong. I willed the words to him, and was the first of our small group to enter the prison within the fortress.

  Twelve

  I sat in the corner of my cell, trying to modify myself so the hard rock floor didn’t cause as much discomfort. It didn’t matter what I did; it hurt after a few minutes. I scanned the room, hoping to notice something I’d missed over the first two days of isolation.

  The initial night, I’d run my fingers over every inch of the walls, trying to feel for weakness, but found nothing. The energy barrier at the far end was impenetrable, and I decided there was no way out, at least not from inside the cell. Someone on the outside would have to release me.

  I’d been transported to the end of a corridor, and was in the only cell in this wing. Were Karo and Slate okay? Were they as isolated as I was?

  Our jailors were less than friendly with me. My suit had been removed, and I now sat in a dirty white jumpsuit, finding gratitude that my human lungs were able to breathe the musty air here. It wasn’t perfect, and I had to fight for the odd breath, but as long as we weren’t here long-term, I thought it would be fine. Long-term. Even after two days, I was beginning to doubt we’d ever be rescued.

  Magnus had likely been killed, and no one would be able to track us through the portals. We had the devices, or at least our captors did now. I considered this and remembered that Magnus was the one who’d held on to the Modifier and Crystal Map after we arrived. There was hope, albeit a small chance. I clung to it as the day went on. Endless nothing transpired.

  Finally, like the first day, one of the prison guards entered the hallway, his small hoofed feet clacking against the hard rock, warning me he was coming. He spoke to me, but without my translator, it m
eant nothing to my ears. He touched a screen outside the barrier, and a compact slot opened in it, framed by green energy. He slid an archaic tray inside, spilling half the food onto the floor.

  This was my life now. I waited until he stopped staring at me and his footsteps had clopped away, and I forced myself to rise and scoop the food onto the tray. I wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of watching me eat floor slop.

  It was terrible, but I had to stay energized. There was a cup with gray liquid in it, and I tried not to think about what it might be. I closed my eyes and swallowed it quickly, feeling tiny chunks pass into my throat. I fought my gag reflex and drank it all.

  When I was done, my belly finally stopped growling at me, and I crept to the edge of the room. I settled to the ground and tried to sleep.

  Sometime later – maybe hours, because the tray had been cleared away – I heard a noise from behind me. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all fabricated from the same black stone this world had everywhere. Dust fell from several feet up the wall, and I peered into the newly-formed hole, seeing a pupil on the other side.

  A voice spoke in a language I didn’t know. It was quiet and feminine.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, speaking for the first time since I’d been thrown inside. “I don’t know what you said.” Another whisper. “I can’t understand you.”

  “English?” she asked.

  I was startled. “You speak English?”

  “Yes. I have the ability to speak many languages,” she said.

  “Who are you?” I asked. The voice modifiers weren’t that new, but I knew that English and other languages like Mandarin and Spanish had only recently been added to the software updates. I wondered about allowing something to be implanted in me that needed constant updating. But I was trapped in a terrible prison cell, so it probably didn’t matter.

  “I am Loweck from Udoon,” she said.

  “Udoon.” I pictured the strange four-legged locals, their heads not unlike those of hippopotami, and their flowing colorful clothing.