“Professor Francis Xabier Missing? This can’t be!”
She kept doing searches, but all said the same thing. Her beloved professor had vanished, and under unusual circumstances.
Muttering the words of one blog aloud, she read, “The authorities are investigating the case as a kidnapping and possible homicide. Homicide?” she shrieked, her heart racing.
“It has to be something to do with that beam,” she moaned to the empty room. She’d seen that odd beam plain as day. A shadowy line of energy emanated from the ground in a back alley of the Murai Dome, and shot straight through it, into space. She told a couple of her classmates, but no one else could see the beam. The professor couldn’t see it either, but he still believed her, though he was the only one.
She knew then something wasn’t right, not just with the strange energy, but with her. Why could she see it when no one else could?
After a few months of work, they found a frequency that made it mechanically detectable. The professor was going to do more research—“Talk to a few friends,” he’d said.
Maybe he talked to the wrong friends, she thought, riddled with guilt. Maybe whoever’s broadcasting the beam tracked him down instead?
She bit on her lip, then whispered, “I have to help him.”
A sudden shock of fear ran through her. She was the one who found the beam in the first place. And she’d blabbed about it to other students. What if they came for her next?
Suddenly paranoid, she jerked her head, listening. The cooling fans inside her computer systems whirred. The annoying high-pitched squeal from the holographic unit still needed fixing. Otherwise, nothing seemed out of sync in her tiny apartment.
“Steady girl,” she whispered, and turned back to her system. Moving in a blur, she scanned for viruses, network taps or system hacks that could be monitoring her.
Again, nothing. Maybe she was safe . . . for the moment. But if someone took the professor because of that beam, it wouldn’t be long before they discovered the link to her. Until Rhysus Mencari showed up to take her away from here, she had to do something, and fast.
She whirled around in her chair and yelled out, “Spark, come!”
Within seconds, a metallic clanking pinged down the hallway, preceding the mechanical dog that appeared seconds later. She smiled at the happy yellow shine coming from the dog’s visor, and called out, “Here, boy!”
Spark trotted to her side and wagged his tail, then stood on its hind legs and gently pawed the air.
“Who’s a good boy?” she crooned, but then remembered the seriousness of the moment. “Spark . . . Initiate protocol thirty-two hundred.”
Spark began to jump up and down, reaching high into the air as if trying to catch some imaginary bird.
“NO!” she cried. “Not Twirly-bird Dancerie!”
The robot stopped and tilted its head sadly, waiting for a new command. She took a deep breath, then called out, “Spark . . . protocol three-two-zero-zero, activate.”
She held her breath while Spark’s visor flashed a faint yellow. A hatch opened on his back, revealing a tiny scanner which twirled as it rose above him. He walked to the wall and began patrolling the apartment’s perimeter walls. A new holographic display appeared next to Toriko, already visualizing telemetry data. She sighed, relieved, and turned back to her displays, hoping the security features she’d built into Spark’s processor were more accurate than his voice-recognition feature.
While he scanned her tiny space, she began typing feverishly to her online friends, her fellow gamers. She had to tell them goodbye anyway, without revealing where she was going—wherever that was. But more importantly, they could help her confirm the horrible news she’d just heard. And much more. She just couldn’t leave without at least trying to find the professor.
As she typed, she mumbled, “And if my new boss can’t accept that, then . . .”
She stopped typing and laid her head in her hands. “No. I need this job. Professor FX would be so-so mad at me if I don’t take it. Oh, what do I do?”
* * * * *
“Finally,” Mencari said as Toriko’s homeworld of Tericn came into view. He was also getting the hang of Osuto’s commercial-class ship. It was much older, far slower, and less responsive than the Coalition vessels he was used to, but it did the job. In fact, it felt like flying a tank in space.
Following the approach beacons, he guided the ship down. As the ship zipped through the atmosphere, the barren landscape below surprised him. Nothing. There was no indication of life in any direction. Had it not been for the communication signals and landing directives, he’d swear he’d arrived at the wrong planet. The environmental readings were all askew. Temperatures were hotter, and the air quality unusually thin and polluted. A normal human may even need to don an environmental suit to tolerate such a climate.
What a horrible place. He wondered if it had always been so desolate.
As he got closer to the surface, he started to make out deep track marks in the crusty dirt. They grew numerous, leading towards a great pit in the ground. It looked like a strip-mining operation. Great conveyor belts, and vehicles filled with plundered material swarmed with activity. The metallic shine from those skittering about were either from protective suits, or a small army of robots. Suddenly the planet's likely sad history spun through his mind.
Finally, as he skimmed farther along the directed route, a great dome appeared on the horizon. The display before him illuminated with a more detailed image and the name “Maurai Dome.”
Saying it was mammoth was an understatement. It was easily hundreds of miles across. Beneath the glassy surface stood clusters of towering structures, separated by beautiful forests and lakes. It reminded him of a huge greenhouse and, from the looks of the surroundings, was the only way that life could sustain itself on this planet.
Aligning with the landing beacons, he guided the ship towards an opening in the dome. Like a beehive, other crafts swooped in and out. Some hovered angrily, defending the entrance with overtly displayed energy cannons. He wondered, with so little around the dome, why they’d need such protection.
Passing through, he followed track lighting to a personal pad. After securing the ship, he sent a quick message to Osuto reporting his arrival, and headed out the airlock. A giant, holographic sign said “Welcome from Bansa!” He quickly noticed the name was plastered everywhere. “Powered by Bansa.” “Brought to you by Bansa.” It seemed plastered on every gadget and panel around him.
A multitude of locals swarmed about, each eyeing him uncomfortably up as they passed. He wasn’t used to being such a spectacle. As an alien on the Trading Post it was easy, since countless races were represented. But biodiversity didn’t appear to be this world’s strong suit.
At least Terconians looked somewhat close to humans, albeit a bit puffier, with broader faces and wider eyes. And some sported variations in skin patterns, resembling stripes or patches. Oddly enough, everyone seemed to have some type of cyberware component installed into their body, too. Eye patches appeared common, while others had augmented limbs, or robotic assistants on their shoulders. Funny, but he didn’t recall Toriko having any.
Speaking of Toriko, where was she? From their previous conversation, he expected she would be waiting for him in the arrival area.
A small sign, a hologram really, caught his eye. “Rhysus Mencari?” it flashed. Visually following the chat bubble-like projection downward, it emanated from a small robotic dog. He grinned at the primitive contraption. Compared to the high-tech appearance of everything else around him, including the cyber-implants, the dog appeared downright crude. Regardless, it had a certain charm to it.
“Excuse me,” he said, approaching cautiously. “That’s me.”
The dog tilted its head curiously. Two light beams radiated from its visor, sweeping across Mencari. In moments, the dog nodded, and a small holographic projection of Toriko appeared.
“Mr. Mencari!” she said with a mixture of alar
m and pleasure. “Thank you so much for coming to pick me up. But I’m so sorry, and you probably won't believe me, but my professor friend and I discovered these aliens that took over the Bansa Corporation--the same place that recruited my sister. Now he's been kidnapped, and . . .”
Her projection suddenly froze in place, and grew pixelated. A digital whimper escaped the robotic dog. It pawed at its head, but couldn’t reach the emitter. Gently, Mencari reached over and tapped the area near where the hologram projected. The image sharpened, and continued to play.
“I think I'm next! I'm safe with friends. But I have to find the Professor FX! And help my sister get out, too. I'm so sorry! I totally understand if you think this is crazy and want to go—or you can wait! Though, I don’t know how long it will take. But I have to do this first. Just tell Spark what you decide you want to do. I totally understand either way. Sorry again!"
Who’s this professor? he wondered. Toriko never mentioned him, let alone anything about a sister and trouble she might be in. And what was this alien take-over business all about? Maybe he should have gone with his gut when he thought something seemed a bit off about a brilliant techie who was so readily available. Maybe there was a mental instability issue. Or did she think this was some sort of funny prank to play on him? Either way . . .
Then again, who would believe him about the Nukari? What if Bansa, especially given its pivotal role in Terconian society, had been compromised by aliens like the Nukari? Or by the Nukari?
Even if the Nukari weren’t involved, there could be far-reaching implications of Tericn under an alien influence. Mencari sighed, as the robotic dog waited patiently.
What was it Toriko said to do? Just tell “Spark” what I wanted to do? That must be the dog’s name?
“Spark,” he said. The dog instantly sat at attention, wagging its stubby metal tail. “Take me to Toriko.”
After a quick digital bark, Spark swirled around and dashed to a station where small self-transportation vehicles waited. The dog jumped in one and waited. A bit puzzled, Mencari climbed in also and took a seat. Symbols began streaming across its visor, the same symbols which then appeared on the control console ahead of Spark. The vehicle lurched then darted off at high speed, shooting out the station and into the open air of the dome. The craft zoomed in-and-out of oncoming ships headed into the station. After a few near collisions, Mencari wondered if the dog was actually programmed to fly or if it had just commandeered the nearest transport option.
After hastily dodging around one ship, a much larger vessel now barreled directly at them. The dog let out a bark, that sounded more like a surprised yip. Mencari had to clutch his seat to keep from toppling at the right-angle change in direction. Once safe, his hands groped for a seatbelt or other restraining device. Finding none, he simply clawed his hands into the seat.
He sighed in relief as their transport moved out of the main docking lanes. However, his tension returned when the vehicle suddenly rolled up vertically and dove at the ground. Panic subsided only when a small hatch, barely large enough for their craft, opened. Sparks flew as the wing tip grazed the tunnel wall. It was snug, but they at least fit. Though, it was so dark. He hoped the robot had night vision equipped.
Within moments they slowed, before stopping at a rudimentary docking port. Ancient lights flickered to life above them. Mencari saw what resembled an abandoned sub-way station. Dusty benches sat waiting for passengers long since gone. Multiple tunnels appeared to span in every direction, disappearing into the darkness. It certainly was creepy, and very quiet. Only the hum of ventilation droned ambiently about them. He had no idea where the dog had taken him. Once again, he mentally lectured himself about brash decisions.
The dog bounded out, then ran into a dead-end. Following behind, Mencari thought perhaps the canine robot had misunderstood, or had, in fact, really blown a circuit. But before he could say anything, a small beam shot out from Spark’s visor, striking a hidden sensor on the wall. A sizable panel pulled in, then disappeared into a track revealing an access tunnel.
Spark gazed at the transport. Symbols flashed across its visor, moments before the craft came to life, and returned the way it came. Looking at Mencari, it barked and moved forward through the opening. He hesitated, wondering if this was a good idea. After peering into the darkness and seeing little, he stepped into it.
* * * * *
“I’ll be ready in just a bit,” Toriko said working feverishly with the holographic interface before her.
“This node should be pretty secure,” a rotund, tiger-like man said, pawing at his whiskers, reviewing his own holographic interface. “I know we’re pretty deep into retro-tech here, but Version 6 had awful tracking and location beacons. Which is great for us now!”
“Seriously, Palo, this was brilliant--and so much easier,” she said gratefully.
He tapped the bulky device fused into his arm. “Trust me, I personally attempted a trace here. They’ll get as far as the seventh version’s firewall, then lose the trail.”
“Big black hole?”
“Dev null, baby,” he joked. “Those little packets won't even get a chance to ping. Waaah! Never to be seen again.”
The two laughed as a tall, graying cat-man sporting a trench coat entered. Despite his age, he had a commanding presence that was undeniable.
“What’s so funny?” he asked with a purr.
“Hey, Daleron,” Toriko said, still amused. Her eyes fell on the black tech gloves he wore. Even from the little she could see, she knew heavy tech when she saw it. Those were the latest in cyber implants, something fitting for the leader of the resistance against the alien invasion. While she had yet to see them in action, their capabilities were legendary. Still their leader was fallible. His cybernetic eye, the replacement for the one he lost during a conflict with a droid scouting party, was proof. But even that just made him look tougher.
She could only guess at what other implants the trench coat hid.
“Just good geek humor,” Palo added.
“And I’m almost done,” she said, anticipating his next question.
Daleron nodded, then suddenly looked puzzled. “Where’s Spark?” he asked. “He’s usually prancing about.”
“Oh he’s waiting for . . . ” she stopped mid-sentence, starting in horror at a display.
“What’s wrong,” Palo asked concerned.
“He’s moving, and he’s not alone,” she said quickly, calling up more details. “Oh My Gosh!” she cried.
“O M G, what?” Daleron said.
“Mencari’s with Spark.”
“The guy you were going to work for?” Palo asked.
She nodded as the others flanked her, gazing at the display.
“Where are they now?” Daleron said.
“They’re in the air ducts, Version 9,” she said flatly.
“Why are they . . . ” Palo began.
“They’re coming here!” she said panicking. “It’s the last directive in Spark’s command queue!”
“Here?” Daleron said confused. “Why would Spark be leading him here?”
“Spark’s just following orders,” she explained. “Hmmm. I guess I should have mapped the obedience methods to only recognize my commands.”
“You have to stop him!” Daleron said. “For all we know he could be an agent for the aliens. Besides, there’s all kinds of dangers between here and there--droid patrols, creatures in the various versions.”
She closed her eyes, and focused. As her collar illuminated, she transmitted an embedded command directly to Spark.
“I have an idea,” Daleron said forebodingly.
* * * * *
“What’s wrong, boy?” Mencari said staring down at the now motionless robotic dog. It cocked its head as if listening for a sound. He saw Spark’s visor glow, and suddenly a hologram of a cloaked figure appeared.
“Rhysus Mencari?” the figure said.
“Yes.”
“What are you doing?”
“I want to help,” Mencari said. “I have connections, and I know a few things about alien invaders. Maybe I can help.”
“How do we know you’re not one of them?”
“Toriko contacted me, remember?” he said, mildly annoyed. “And Spark here was leading me, I didn’t force it to take me here.”
“He’s got a point there,” Toriko said quietly in the background.
“Toriko, is that you?” Mencari said.
He heard a surprised squeal before she went silent again.
“She’s safe here with us,” the figure said. “Continue to follow Spark. I will meet you.”
Before he could answer, the projection dissolved into tiny balls of light. Spark looked back curiously at Mencari, as if waiting for a command.
“Let’s go, Spark,” he said. After a quick wag of its tail, Spark continued on down the tunnel.
How much farther did they have to go? Mencari wondered. It felt like they were traveling down to the center of the planet. He knew that wasn’t the case, but at times the ancient corridors and tunnels felt like underground caverns. It appeared some sections were still well maintained, while others were grown over with moss, or crumbled all together.
“Version 7: Ventilation Station” proclaimed a sign on the wall. Version 7? It almost sounded like software to him. Thinking about it more as he followed the mechanical dog, the higher levels they had passed through all seemed better maintained. Perhaps that referred to the various incarnations of the city? Were the Terconians building up their city, layer upon layer, like an ancient archeological site?
Breaking his thoughts, a projection appeared from Spark.
“I’m nearby. Wait right there for me.”
Daleron was gone before Mencari could even respond.
D'mok Revival: The Nukari Invasion Anthology Page 10