The Glorious Becoming (Epic)

by Lee Stephen

  Jayden stared in a stupor. “I don’t get what you’re talkin’ about.”

  Balling her fists, she keeled forward. Through clenched teeth she tried to speak coherently. “I saw what happened. I saw why they think she’s an IB.” When it was obvious he didn’t understand, she went on. “It was like a vision, it was like...like it was real.” She barely collected her words. “Ju`bajai, she’s an Ithini in Confinement. I was her.”

  “Wait...what?”

  “I need to talk to Scott.”

  Jayden eyed her with conern.

  She frowned. “Just trust me, Jay.” Sparing a glance between him and Boris, she walked into the bathroom. “I’ll be back in a minute. Comm Scott and tell him to come over.”

  It took Scott all of five minutes to make it to their quarters after the comm to him, where he found Jayden and Boris dutifully cleaning Esther’s upchuck from the floor. After recanting to him what Esther had told them, the three men waited for her to finish freshening up.

  Laying back on her bed, hands covering her face as if to block out light that wasn’t there, Esther breathed in slow, concentrated breaths. As Scott sat down next to her, she angled her head slightly to face him.

  “I’ve been putting it together in my mind,” she said, her voice gravelly. “It’s all coming together so clearly now. Ju`bajai, the Ithini I told you about, she must’ve put something in me. A mental implant, something.”

  “You mean she was connected to you?” Scott asked. “While you were sleeping?”

  “No, it wasn’t like a connection. There was no other presence there. This was like a recording—something set to play in my mind. Maybe sleep triggered it.” Shifting a bit, she went on. “The last thing I’d said to Ju`bajai before leaving Confinement was that I knew she was lying. I didn’t even clarify what I knew she was lying about. And I most certainly didn’t feel a connection when I’d left.” She huffed pathetically. “I don’t know how that little shrew got me.”

  Concern stayed on Scott’s face. “And you’re sure it was her?”

  “Yes. In the dream, I was her.” She pressed her palms against her eye sockets. “She was captured by the Bakma. Her ship—a Ceratopian ship—it was ambushed. They were boarded quickly, they weren’t prepared. The next thing I recall was being taken prisoner. The Bakma, they were dragging me. I must’ve gone on their ship. From there, I...I don’t know where I went.”

  Scott folded his arms, listening intently.

  “I remember a face that had no face. Whatever it was, it grabbed me. I remember machines. In every direction, machines, but this thing, this thing that grabbed me, it was real.”

  “It wasn’t a machine?”

  She shook her head. “No. It was flesh and blood. It had no eyes, no anything. The world around me was dark, like black lighting. The being was black.”

  He eyed her. “Black like...?”

  “So black it was almost blue,” she answered. “I didn’t see a mouth, but it spoke to me. In this awful, awful voice. I think it was instructing me.”

  “Instructing you?”

  “Something like that, yes. I just know that the next thing I remember, I was part of a Bakma crew.”

  Scott grew quiet in contemplation. “A Bakma crew that we captured here on Earth.”

  Jayden and Boris eyed each other.

  “Yes. I must’ve...I mean she must’ve left out the fact that she was already a captive when EDEN captured her. She must have felt that it worked to her advantage, somehow.” She looked away. “Scott, the ICs are so much more powerful. I don’t care what any xenobiologist says. I could sense it, for fleeting moments at the very end. It was like my mind was...” Esther made a face. She couldn’t find the right word. “Like my mind was so free. Unrestrained. I sensed that that made me different, to the Bakma. They’d never been around anything like me before, even though I was an Ithini.” Wincing, she rubbed her forehead. “God, my head is pounding.”

  Placing his hand on her leg, he squeezed. “It’s okay. You did good.”

  Esther swallowed deeply. “I need to go to Confinement. I need to see Ju`bajai, find out why she did this.”

  “I think she might have just offered you an olive branch.”

  “Wonderful,” she muttered. “Just what I always wanted, an alien companion. I need to change into Calliope. What time is it, Jay?”

  The Texan looked at the clock. “Almost ten thirty.”

  Running her hand through her hair, Esther looked at Scott. “That thing I saw, that black thing without the face. I think it was a Khuladi.”

  A Khuladi. The masters behind the war. This was more than an olive branch—this was a full-fledged invitation. “All right, Calliope Lee. Get your glasses on and get to work.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Over the next twenty minutes, Esther transformed. Styling her hair, applying her makeup, and donning her proper attire, she was soon ready to walk out the door. As the three men bid her good luck, she left their room for Xenobiology.

  Esther’s second journey to Heaven—Cairo’s Confinement—was considerably less dramatic than her first. She only needed to show her civilian I.D. to the guards at post to be granted full access to their secure facilities. It almost felt too easy.

  So did finding Ju`bajai. Esther spotted the Ithini at her post as soon as she arrived in Heaven. The alien’s opaque eyes focused on her the moment she saw her. The mental prick came without Esther having to ask for it. They were connected, as Ju`bajai’s communication process began. It became apparent immediately that the Ithini had been busy in Esther’s absence. Not only did Ju`bajai know who she was and why she was there, but she had taken Esther’s H`laar-seeking mission a step further. Within seconds of stepping into Heaven, Esther received the unspoken message: Ju`bajai had located her Ceratopian.

  Dark eyes narrowing, Esther nonchalantly walked past the Ithini as information continued to transmit. She was receiving directions.

  Forward.

  High heels clicking rhythmically, Esther strode through the central labs toward the Ceratopian wing. She nodded cordially to several of the scientists she’d seen the day before. No one seemed to mind that she was there.

  Forward.

  Stepping into the oversized corridor that led to the Ceratopian cells, Esther’s eyes darted in every direction. Everything seemed business as usual. Scientists were walking to and fro, chatting amongst themselves and carrying clipboards of information. Farther down the hall, a guard and his necrilid were on patrol. She continued to walk.

  Left.

  Pivoting smoothly, Esther lowered her chin with purpose. She walked past open tables of alien weapons, armor, and technology, focused straight ahead as if her destination was known. Casting glances to her sides, she observed the cells of Ceratopians. Tan ones. Black ones. Green ones. They almost all ignored her. Humans were normal here.

  Left.

  Turning at the next intersection, she kept on. She was on a smaller branch of the Ceratopian wing. A dead end was visible far ahead.

  Stop.

  She slowed her pace naturally, as if her stopping was completely expected. Hands clasping casually in front of her, the inclination came to her to look to her left. She obeyed the urge. Her brown eyes focused on the cell before her. Sitting on a massive wall bench was a black Ceratopian. Esther approached the glass partition, glancing to her left and right. The dead-end hallway was vacant. Her gaze returned to the alien.

  It was huge, even for a Ceratopian. Its black skin was marked with vibrant green patterns. Its scales shone beneath the light of the cell. Then slowly—ever so slowly—it turned its horned head to face her. They locked eyes.

  “H`laar was suppose to be tan, Ju`bajai,” Esther whispered under her breath. She placed her palm on the glass. The Ceratopian’s golf-ball-sized pupils stayed fixated on her.

  Click.

  The new pricking came suddenly. The Ceratopian cocked its head. It had felt the pricking, too. Ju`bajai had connected them.

  Es
ther leaned closer to the glass. H`laar was the whole reason they had come to Cairo, the catalyst for the conspiracy theory. How could as clever an IC as Ju`bajai have made such a blatant error? Eyes locked on the Ceratopian, Esther’s mind transferred the only thing that came to it: I’m sorry, I was looking for someone else. The Ceratopian’s eyes grew large. Its gigantic muscles tensed.

  The hair on the back of Esther’s neck suddenly stood; goose bumps erupted down her arms. The next realization that came to her was not one she’d expected. She drew a breath and stepped back.

  This alien knew who H`laar was.

  The presence of the Ceratopian in her mind was stronger now. It was searching—using the connection that Ju`bajai had established. It was finding out who Esther was. What if Esther could do the same? Focusing her thoughts, she zeroed her eyes in on the alien. She consumed her mind with a single purpose. Dig.

  Esther’s vision flashed. She flinched as the flood of images came.

  “The Hive can defeat the Khuladi. To the Earthae, this must be made known. You must safeguard Ambassador H`laar.”

  Centu`vach-Shon grunted in compliance.

  Flash!

  Centu`vach-Shon toppled as the militant Golathoch struck him. He raised his horned head and roared; Golathochs surrounded he and H`laar from every side. They were captured.

  Flash!

  “He is an Earthae of high rank!” the battered H`laar whispered emphatically. “He will take the message to the Warrior.”

  Grunting lowly, Centu`vach-Shon stared at the black and gold Earthae.

  H`laar turned the Earthae’s way, motioning to himself. “H`laar.”

  Flash!

  Centu`vach-Shon watched as the armorless Earthae discharged its weapon. He growled as H`laar was killed, the ambassador’s body collapsing in the sand.

  The memories pulled back; Esther’s vision returned. Centu`vach-Shon—the bodyguard of the fallen Ambassador H`laar—towered over her on the other side of the glass. His teeth were bared, his fingers spread openly. He growled gutturally.

  Warrior. Awareness?

  The Ceratopian’s words came to Esther’s mind via telepathy. Looking quickly in both directions, she eyed the horned alien. Is the Warrior Klaus Faerber?

  It tilted its head. Nameless. Message. Receipt?

  What? Are you asking me to receive the message?

  Insufficient.

  Esther shook her head desperately. I don’t understand you. If you have a message, I can take it. Is that what you want?

  Centu`vach-Shon growled. Insufficient.

  “Veck,” she said aloud. Let’s start over. My name is Esther. Is yours Centu...umm...vishan? She broke her personal fourth wall. “God, you things have the craziest names.”

  Likewise.

  “You sarcastic lizard.” She focused her thoughts again. What do I call you?

  Centu`vach-Shon.

  “Right, because that rolls off the human tongue.” It’s just a few syllables different than Centurion. Can I call you that instead?

  Acceptable.

  All right. Progress. The black and gold, erm, Earthae. Do you remember him?

  Centurion grunted.

  Inherently, she leaned closer to the glass. He’s here with me. We came to help H`laar escape, so we could deliver his message.

  Suddenly, the Ceratopian roared. Rearing its head back, it bashed its head against the glass. Break!

  “No, no, no, no!” Esther whispered vehemently, brown eyes widening as she held out her hands. She checked quickly for guards, then looked back at Centurion. No! No break! You have to be quiet! She watched as the Ceratopian took hulking steps back. Are you retarded?

  She felt her thoughts as they were intercepted. Ju`bajai’s presence swelled, and a wash of understanding came over her. Centurion was a bodyguard alone. His sole function was to protect, not to communicate. To form complex phrases and sentences would be opening a door for advanced conceptualization, at least in Golathochian theory. For a bodyguard, that could be a distraction. He wasn’t a simpleton. He just wasn’t allowed to use more than one word, or more accurately, concept, at a time. It was like an occupational vow.

  Centurion snorted like a rhinoceros.

  She stared at him calmly. Listen, Centurion. H`laar is dead, I understand that now. But you still possess his message, even if you can’t convey it. The memories of everything you and H`laar were supposed to do are still in your head. We need to keep you alive.

  Growling lowly, Centurion stomped one of his massive feet. It was like he wanted to charge.

  You need to understand me, Centurion. I know you want to break out. But to do that, you must be still. I need you to listen to me, to trust me. A new thought suddenly emerged. You can still help H`laar accomplish his mission. To do that, you need to obey me. I can help you fulfill your goal.

  The Ceratopian tilted its head. Warrior?

  I will help you relay H`laar’s message to the Warrior. But to do that, you must, must, must listen to me. Do you understand?

  Acceptable.

  Esther exhaled in relief.

  “Everything okay, ma’am?”

  Gasping, Esther spun to the direction of the voice, her hand shooting to her heart. It was a scientist. Closing her eyes, she sighed slowly. “You scared the bloody hell out of me.”

  The man smiled. “Sorry.” He eyed Centurion. “Everything all right, here?”

  Glancing at the alien briefly, Esther laughed. “Yes, quite all right. I was walking past and I caught him staring at me. I was a bit captivated.” The connection she’d shared with Centurion and Ju`bajai was gone. It’d been severed the moment she’d heard the scientist speak.

  “Yeah, he’s a strange one. We don’t often get Golathochs that...well, dumb. It’s kind of a fluke he’s here at all.”

  “A fluke?” she asked. “What do you mean?” As they conversed, Centurion stood motionless in his cell, his large eyes firmly attached to Esther.

  The scientist folded his arms. “Typically we don’t keep specimens unless they have something to offer. This guy’s barely even comprehendible. He just calls himself Warrior all day. Like he’s obsessed with it.”

  Obsessed with it. Esther stared curiously at the scientist as she put it together. That was how Centurion had gone unnoticed as a key figure there. The alien’s sole focus, his sole purpose for existing, was to help H`laar contact the “Warrior.” He was trying to tell everyone that. He was obsessed with it—with continuing his mission. And they thought he was talking about himself. It was both tragic and fortuitous.

  “Well,” she said, smiling, “I’m sure they’ll fish something useful out of him eventually.”

  The scientist’s smile widened. “I’m sure.” He extended his hand. “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

  She gracefully shook it. “I’m Esther.” Panic struck her the moment her name came out. He stared confusedly at her civilian I.D., plainly identifying her as Calliope Lee. Quickly, she laughed to play it off. “Esther’s my middle name. I rarely go by Calliope.”

  “Ah.”

  “Actually,” she said, glancing at her wristwatch, “I need to be leaving. I was on my way out when this brute caught my eye. Not quite accustomed to being this close to aliens.”

  Smiling, the scientist nodded. “No problem, ma’am. You have a good day.”

  “I’ll try. Thank you so much.” Stepping past him, she strode casually back up the hall. Centurion’s gaze stayed on her the whole time.

  Nobody noticed or questioned Esther’s presence as she made her way back to Heaven’s entrance. No one except Ju`bajai. The alien and Esther shared a brief exchange of eye contact as she walked past the Ithini female toward the exit, her high heels tapping all the while. Ju`bajai’s gaze lingered on her only briefly, before her focus shifted away. That was fine with Esther.

  Stepping past and away, the scout-turned-contractor made her way out of Confinement.

  * * *

  SCOTT WAS LEANING back in hi
s chair when Boris’s knock came to his door. He had instructed the technician prior to leaving their quad to get dressed and deliver an update to his own quarters—something tangible to indicate Boris’s progress. With things getting as unstable and dangerous as they were, Scott was past the point of simply trusting Boris to get things done. He needed to see results. With every hour that passed, Scott’s brain reaffirmed the notion that this mission needed to end as quickly as possible. Tugging on a white t-shirt, Scott opened his door to find Boris on the other side. Motioning for the technician to step in, Scott closed and locked the door behind them.

  “Ready for my update, commander!”

  “Voice down,” Scott hushed.

  Nodding enthusiastically, Boris began setting up his kit. “So some of this, I have already explained to you. I will try to be simple and brief. If one wanted to tap into The Machine, one would need to break through numerous levels of encryption from several different private vendors, all with their own guardians and convertors. In addition, one’s skill must be incredibly advanced. And if you are caught,” he made a face, “you know Novosibirsk.”

  “Cut to the chase.”

  Boris said nothing. He only grinned and tapped away at his portable terminal. After several seconds, he struck one final key.

  The lights shut off. Even beneath the door, in the outside hall. Scott’s heart leapt as the emergency lights kicked in. Then, barely a half-second later, the lights returned to normal. Wide-eyed, Scott stared at Boris. The technician was still grinning.

  “What in the hell was that?” Scott asked lividly.

  Boris leaned toward him. “With this kit from Antipov, I can do anything here. Everything is set up. I am in their network, past their guardian, beyond their interceding—”

  “That’s great, but holy scat, Boris!” whispered Scott. “They’re going to trace that blink to you!”

  Raising a finger, Boris said, “Wrong, wrong! I broke through the firewall of their administration system, found the name of their power supplier, then used it to notify them in advance of an impending power blink due to a sub-station transfer.”

  “What?”

  “I pretended to be their power company. I told them to prepare for a momentary blink as routine work happened, explaining it would not even be long enough to make their generators kick in. Pretty good, right?” the technician asked merrily.