Guardian Awakening

by C. Osborne Rapley

  “I will get rid of it.” He reached for the laser and after a couple of attempts finally drove the creature off.

  Aesia decided that perhaps she didn’t like boats after all. When they finally made landfall a day later, Tristan could sense her relief as she stood on solid ground. Perhaps one day he would take her for a real sail on a pleasant lake with no monsters, and maybe she would change her mind.

  They collected their gear from the boat and, after a cooked meal, continued their journey. Things were different on this side of the lake; it started to get hotter and dryer as they pushed on towards the beacon.

  Now Tristan became the one suffering. He had never taken to the heat, and as they walked the land got hot and oppressive. Sweat trickled into his eyes and stung them. The terrain became more desert-like as they pressed onward. The sun beat down, sapping his strength, drying his throat. He was starting to feel sick. They had been walking into the heat for three days now, the sand pulling at their feet making progress even more difficult.

  The forth day turned out to be the hottest so far. The early afternoon sun burned Tristan’s neck, his tongue dry and rough against the roof of his mouth. His vision blurred and with a groan he sunk to his knees the hot sand burning his bare legs.

  “Aesia?” She was ahead of him, the heat hardly affecting her at all, and his shout came out as a croak. She turned and ran back to him.

  “Tristan.” She dropped to her knees beside him. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know, I feel awful I can’t go on.” He fell forward on his face.

  Warm water was being poured into his mouth, and as he coughed and tried to sit up his head ached, and strong gentle hands pushed him back. “Rest,” he heard a voice in the distance.

  He woke a cool breeze blowing across his face. It was night, and the Milky Way spread in an arc above him. Aesia moved next to him.

  “Tristan, are you all right?”

  He nodded in the dark, knowing she could see much better than he. “Yes, I was stupid I should have realised in the strong sun I was risking heat stroke.”

  “Heat stroke?”

  “Yes, the heat from a strong sun can affect me badly if my head is not covered.”

  “Oh, how long before you will be able to continue?”

  “I’m not sure, I have never had heat stroke before. The best plan is if I keep out of the sun during the day and walk at night, otherwise I won’t be able to get much further.”

  “OK we can put the shelter up and rest during the day out of the sun. It’s nearly dawn so we should stay here for now and move tonight.”

  “Thank you.”

  She leaned over and kissed his forehead “Don’t be silly. You looked after me now it’s my turn to look after you.”

  Aesia gave him a sip of water and he fell back exhausted to sleep.

  He woke that evening, stretched and looked around for Aesia. She was sitting outside of the shelter watching the stars appear as the sun set on the opposite horizon. She turned as he approached.

  “Hello how are you feeling now?”

  He sat down beside her. “Much better now, thanks.”

  “I don’t want to worry you so soon after waking up, but we are getting short of water.”

  Tristan turned towards her. “I thought we had a decent supply”

  “We did, but you’ve been drinking it. I let you have what you needed during your illness.”

  Tristan shook his head. “I don’t remember that.”

  “No,” she replied. “You were delirious most of the time.”

  OK let me check then” He stood and walked over to the rucksack and checked their supply. He judged they had sufficient water for another two days.

  “Don’t forget, I won’t need as much as you, Sicceian superiority you know.” She smiled.

  Tristan returned and sat down beside her. “Right then, I can set up a water trap, but we will need to stay put every third night to collect water.” Tristan knew he needed a lot to keep hydrated. They broke camp and continued their journey. They slept in whatever shade they could get during the day. Most times they constructed a simple shelter using one of the sheets to give them shade. On the third night Tristan set up a water trap using one of the waterproof sheets. He dug a pit with one of the pans at the bottom he then arranged the sheet in a cone shape using some of the plentiful rocks scattered about in the sand so water would condensate out of the ground collect on the sheet then run down and drip into the pan.

  Aesia was sceptical “That won’t work will it?”

  “It should, the nights are cold enough. Anyway, if it doesn’t work we - well I have a problem!”

  The next morning when Tristan lifted the sheet the pan was brimming with fresh water. Tristan punched the air “Yes! It worked.”

  Aesia hugged him. “Wonderful!”

  They continued the new routine, walking during the cool nights and stopping every third to replenish their water. At least with the many small animals running about the desert food was not a problem.

  One morning, after they had just chosen a spot to sit out the day, Tristan felt the wind on his face increase. He looked up and saw a red haze forming on the horizon. The wind grew in strength even as he watched. Sand whirled in little circles about their feet. “I think we’re in for a sand storm.”

  “Sand storm? What’s a sand storm?” Aesia asked.

  “You are about to find out.” Tristan stood. He had noticed there was a small rocky outcrop close by. “Quick, we must get out of the wind.” He grabbed Aesia’s hand and ran towards it.

  He ran round the outcrop and found a small overhang that faced away from the wind and the approaching red cloud. He pulled out one of the sheets and set it across the overhang. Aesia helped him to weigh it down with large heavy rocks. He left one corner open so they could crawl in. Finally he made sure everything they had got stacked against the back wall of the overhang.

  Aesia sat and leaned back against the rock wall. “Why are you so worried Tristan, what’s the hurry?”

  Tristan closed the sheet over the opening, stacking more stones around it. Then having checked it looked secure he sat down next to her.

  “A sand storm can suffocate you or if it’s strong enough flay the skin from your body. This one looks to be a big one.”

  The wind slowly increased, causing the sheet to crack and flap. After a while, everything went dark, the sheet started to come loose, and they both had to hold it. The air became stifling and filled with dust, making it difficult to breathe. Tristan tore cloth from his shirt to make face masks for them both. The noise of the wind rose to a high-pitched scream that seemed to go on forever.

  Their arms ached and they were both starting to think they could not hold the sheet much longer, when the wind started to subside. An hour or so later the noise had abated, and the sheet hung slack. They both fell into an exhausted sleep.

  They awoke to silence, the early evening sun streamed into the cave. Pulling back the sheet, they found sand had piled up against it, so they had to dig themselves out. Once they had freed themselves they climbed to the top of the outcrop and scanned the horizon The receding storm made strange colours in the sky as the sun set through it.

  Aesia shuddered. “I am thankful you knew what that was. I would have been caught in the open if I were on my own.”

  Tristan put an arm round her waist. “You’re not on your own.”

  She rested her head on his shoulder. “No.”

  Shortly after their ordeal with the sandstorm, the desert gave way to scrub land. After two more weeks of difficult walking, a range of mountains appeared on the horizon. In the heat haze, they looked close.

  They had to walk for several more days before the range appeared to be getting closer. Once they reached the foothills they were able to quickly find the navigation beacon. It was a small, squat, concrete bunker, with a short metal tripod structure on the top. It had been cut into a sloping rock formation.

&n
bsp; A flight of stone steps lead up to a heavy door. Tristan regarded the door. “There were no catches or handles.”

  Aesia smiled “The door is computer controlled”.

  “But I don’t sense any computer.”

  “It remains hidden until the correct sequence is sent to it.”

  “I’m assuming you have the correct code?”

  “Yes.”

  Tristan thought for a moment. “You’ve been away for a long time. What happens if it has been changed?”

  She laughed. “They are never changed. Siccean arrogance, remember?”

  Tristan nodded. “Oh yeah!”

  She sent a quick command. Tristan sensed the computer acknowledge and request authorisation codes.

  A string of numbers formed in her mind.

  Tristan looked sharply at her as nothing happened. “Don’t say we have come all this way and…” the door hissed and there was a puff of dust as it swung open. Aesia sighed, and Tristan felt relief flood through her. The building was obviously kept at a slightly higher pressure than the outside environment. He asked her about it.

  “The minor pressure difference keeps out dust.”

  They stepped through the open door and it swung shut behind them. There was a faint hum and Tristan’s ears popped as the computer re-pressurised the interior.

  After the heat outside the building was refreshingly cool. They both slumped down on the featureless floor. The transmitter and control computer were against one wall with conduits leading down through the floor. Tristan tried to access the computer.

  Unauthorised access is not permitted.

  Aesia noticed his attempt to communicate with it. “Best not to try, just in case it locks us both out.”

  “OK sorry.”

  They sat quiet for a while, not believing their journey had finally come to an end. Tristan spoke and broke the silence.

  “Where does this thing get its power?”

  “There is a small fusion reactor in a vessel encased in the concrete floor,” she answered. “Now sit tight while I make the necessary adjustments.”

  Tristan remained seated on the floor and watched Aesia reconfigure the beacon to send out a distress signal. After an hour’s work, she replaced the access panel she had removed to work on the transmitter and powered everything back up. She stood, turned, and sat herself back down next to Tristan.

  “How long do you think it will be before someone comes?” Tristan asked.

  She looked at him. “I don’t know, but this is a fairly remote area, so it could be a while before someone comes to investigate. Still, at least we don’t have to walk any further!”

  Tristan put his arm round her shoulders. “In a way, I’m quite sad it is over.”

  Aesia nodded and laid her head against him. “Hmmm, I wonder how we can pass the time?”

  A Sicceian battle cruiser arrived four days later.

  Chapter Eight: Escape

  Aesia and Tristan boarded the shuttle sent down to collect them. The pilot took off once they were seated behind her. Tristan was fascinated to see another Sicceian. This one, slightly older than Aeisa, had the same slim body shape, white almost silver hair, and similar fine elfin features. While he had become accustomed to the gentle warm touch of Aeisa’s mind, this woman’s mind was hard and controlled. He did note her eyes were sky-blue like Aeisa’s were when he first met her. He glanced at her sitting opposite him, her eyes were almost green now. She caught his look and thought and used her computer to converse with him so the pilot wouldn’t overhear them.

  Tristan, there is something I need to tell you, but I have to be sure first.

  Her emotions washed over him. She mouthed the words “I love you” and smiled.

  He smiled back. “I love you too.”

  About half an hour later, a large black ship emerged from the darkness of space. Tristan could see through the front ports that it was a long cone-shaped vessel with what appeared to be a bridge structure toward the forward end of the ship. The pilot manoeuvred their small craft to a large, open docking bay at the side of the ship. Once the bay was pressurised, they opened the door and stepped out onto the deck of the larger ship. A cacophony of minds and an overwhelming power assailed his unprepared mind. He staggered, Aeisa grabbed his arm.

  “Tristan!”

  He passed out.

  Aesia caught him and laid him gently on the deck. A Marine guard had assembled to meet them. The officer looked down at Tristan and she sensed undisguised contempt and loathing. He shouted at a couple of Marines.

  “Pick that up and take it away. Now!”

  “Yes sir!”

  They picked him up roughly. Aeisa clenched her fists. “Wait!”

  The Marines hesitated and looked at their officer, he jerked his head and they continued away.

  “Where are you taking him?”

  “It will be taken care of,” he spat. “As for you, follow me.”

  Aesia followed the officer to the executive area of the ship. From his demeanour, she knew with increasing fear she had made a terrible mistake. He had seen her eyes and she sensed the hostility and disgust emanating from him. He motioned her to a small interview room, turned and shut the door behind him, leaving her alone. She was angry with herself that she had let her emotions cloud her judgment. Her condition had not helped her, but she was now fearful at what might happen next. The cold of the metal chair seemed to seep into her; she shivered involuntarily.

  The door opened and the captain walked in. Aesia stood, her arms held stiffly against her side as she clenched and unclenched her fists, but still her fingers trembled. The captain’s ice blue glare shone like an unforgiving spotlight. She tried not to think how strange the captain’s neon bright blue eyes looked after the months alone with Tristan and his human eyes.

  The silence stretched out. Icy tendrils of fear crept across her chest. Tightening, squeezing, making it difficult to breathe.

  “Do you know what you have done?” His voice came even, cold.

  “Yes Sir!” She tried to swallow but her mouth was dry, arid. Her fingers fluttered over her still flat belly. Of course she knew what she had done. Why hadn’t she told Tristan of this impossible thing? But she had to be sure. As soon as they had arrived on board the ship’s main computer confirmed her suspicions.

  “After your behaviour, there is no choice, no other option. You will be dishonourably discharged.”

  “Sir, what will happen to Tristan?”

  The captain’s face flashed with anger at her insubordinate interruption. “I assume you mean that creature you have been with? It will be studied, questioned, and terminated for dissection.”

  Bile rose in her throat. Her stomach twisted and sweat prickled on her brow. Dissection? Terminated? “But Sir!”

  She could see the captain held no mercy in his eyes. Tristan’s fate was sealed. She clamped a trembling hand over her mouth, and with one last snort of contempt, the captain turned and walked out shutting the door behind him. By bringing him she had as good as killed him herself. She sat down staring at the blank closed door. Her vision blurred, tears stung her eyes, and an emptiness engulfed her. Several minutes later a guard appeared and she was marched down to a shuttle bay, put on a shuttle, and then transferred to a supply ship which was to be sent back to Home World for re-supplying the fleet.

  During the journey home, the expected nausea and sickness started. She was kept in isolation. The only contact she had was when they came to shave her head, marking her out as a thing of ridicule and disgrace. She lived in a daze. Everything happening to someone else, not her. She hoped she would soon wake from the nightmare.

  The marines carrying Tristan finally reached an unmarked door, opened it, and threw him roughly in. The door slammed shut.

  Tristan’s head swam. A point of light rushed towards him. Like an express train exiting a long tunnel, a sudden bright light hurt his eyes. He blinked and squinted. He found himself in a vast hall with hundreds of peo
ple talking at once. The noise was too much. Everyone shouting to be heard. He put his hands over his ears and sank to his knees. They seemed to come closer, pressing in on him. Fear and pain slowly gave way to anger; it rose from his chest upward like a giant black spider. He stood then pushed back against the crush.

  “Shut up! Shut Up! SHUT UP!” Anger flowed through him and with it power, he had control. It was like a door slamming shut. He opened his eyes. The people crowding him stood silent and motionless. One remained, alien, machine like, pressing against him. He faced it, hands clenched knuckles white. He fought it, pushing against the pressure. It resisted, he pushed harder, and it suddenly folded and was gone. He spun round, the hall burst into a million pieces followed by darkness and silence. An emptiness filled his mind his consciousness swirled round the edge. With an effort he pulled back and turned away.

  Tristan groaned. The warm presence that had become part of him had gone. He opened his eyes, there was a glowing ceiling panel above him merging into a featureless white wall. He closed his eyes, disorientated. Where was he, where was Aeisa? His heart missed a beat. “Aeisa?”

  He sat up, and his churning stomach caused him to retch. He took a shuddering breath and rested his forehead against the cool featureless wall. His head throbbed, where was she? He reached out with his mind, but found nothing except the babble of voices he could now control. He shut them off and looked around the room. He suddenly noticed a strange sweet smell of different alien bodies. There were four other people in the cell with him, one female and three males. He assumed they were Mylians. He had not taken much notice of them when he had rescued Aeisa from them on Earth. Their features looked solid and heavier than the elf-like Sicceians. They were bald, with low ridges that started just above their forehead and swept down to the nape of their necks. The males had a slightly higher central ridge. Their eyes were red, similar to a human albino.

  The female crouched in the corner, crying softly, one of the males comforting her. The other two sat on one of two benches pushed against the room’s far wall. The three males looked at Tristan and he sensed fear. He tried to touch their minds. There was nothing, blank. They apparently did not have the same telepathic ability as the Sicceians, and it confirmed to him the reason why the ship Aesia and he had taken did not have a computer with a neural interface.