He fought to remove the grip.
"Stop fighting me," a high-pitched voice said. "You need this sub-lim data if you hope to return to Chatterre." The harsh judgment ricocheted inside his mind while rending pain shot across his forehead. Thunder groaned and pressed his thickly gloved palms to his ears, but his effort only intensified the sharp echoes and incomprehensible images.
Would this nightmare ever end?
Abruptly, the pressure on his temples ceased and the bedlam stilled. He gasped with relief, then lay still as a corpse. While he relished the serenity, the rock-hard floor pulsated against his spine. Strange. Ground only vibrated during stampedes and those horrible times, when the earth shuddered so hard that rock ripped free.
But it wasn’t an ominous beat; this pulse seemed soothing. Relaxing. Barely discernible.
He must still be trapped in the strange confusing dream. Thunder clenched his hands and willed himself to awake.
Nothing changed, except after a few moments his sweat vaporized into the black silence. He shivered, as much from the chill as the fear he’d remain trapped in this strange nightmare. An intermittent draft sent wave after wave of gooseflesh across his chest, yet his lower extremities were hot.
It was the most peculiar dream he’d ever had, which said a lot because he’d had bizarre nightmares for years.
The stench of scorched metal mixed with blood. Odd. Past nightmares had contained colors, thoughts and feelings – mainly terror and pain, but never smells or periods where he simply lay there wondering if he’d ever awaken. This one held both in overwhelming quantities.
What if this was real?
The thought was too ridiculous for consideration.
If this was real, where was he?
How had he gotten to the heart of darkness?
Why did it hurt so much to think?
Why couldn’t he seem to remember anything except the odd bits of dream, which seemed so real that at times he was nearly convinced they were reality?
Could he be dead?
"When a hydro blast hit the escarpment near the tunnel’s entrance, we were hit by shrapnel," a shrill voice said.
“Hydro blast?”
“An archaic form of ammunition,” the odd voice said, using another incomprehensible term, as an image of water formed in his mind. "Now that you're relaxed, I can share the rest of Kalamar's language." Again, points of pressure clamped onto his temples.
"Kalamar?" he asked as an energy surge went through his head. His hair stood on end and his entire body gave a violent jerk.
"I only have time for basics." This time the high-pitched voice came from inside his mind. "My movement circuits exploded as a result of the blast and my power is failing.” Whatever that meant couldn’t be good, so why did the voice sound so calm? “Relax so I can download the data you'll need to survive and return to the planetoid to finish what we have begun." The tumult of confusing images and strange sounds resumed.
Black voids with dots of light; strange things that could not possibly fly yet did; creatures that tore off outer skins like cocoons and turned into humans; odd boxes, similar to Larwin's, spinning balls that Thunder somehow knew were entire worlds; tiny black marks that he suddenly recognized as words.
Nimri had told him about the mind-meld GEA-4 had done to her and how she could understand the ancient manuscripts afterward. Thunder stared at one image and gasped in wonder, as he realized the odd forms were what Larwin called 'word pictures'.
"Stop fighting me," said the inner voice. "You must have this data in order to survive."
“Where am I?” He forced out each syllable. “GEA-4 is that you? How are you speaking inside my thoughts?”
"We are in a Kalamaran ship." A crackling sound accompanied white sparks arcing in the darkness. Then, the cool, hard circular objects clutching his temples suddenly sent hot, stabbing jolts of pain all the way to his toes, but when he tried to grab them, he discovered his arms were pinned tightly against his body. "We were going to the Pterois Volitan to get the last of the supplies when the Kalamaran shot at us.” She paused. “Odd that my files don’t mention that they keep Madrox for pets.”
Madrox! A death-like chill washed over him. He remembered its eyes; its tongue flicking at him and had thought it was a nightmare.
But this must be a dream, how could it be reality? If he’d been that close to a dragon with no protection, it would certainly have consumed his aura.
"The hull of this ship has a layer of water between its two outermost layers. It is a simple, but ingenious shielding solution. The Kalamaran's flight-suit was designed on the same principal."
"Why is it dark?” He swallowed. “Am I dead?"
"The Dragon Officer did not see fit to illuminate this area."
Dragon Officer? What was a dragon officer? Did she mean dragons had differing ranks? Larwin had once tried to explain about how each and every human from his world knew his or her rank as compared to every other one and how officers were the best. Thunder had never been able to grasp the odd concept and had never understood why it seemed so important to Larwin or why he’d looked so proud to be a colonel. Whatever those where.
This couldn't be real. He must still be home in his bed, caught in the worst nightmare of his life. He willed himself to wake.
“You are awake and in the Kalamaran ship. Why is this so difficult for you to accept?”
Were the confusing fragments true? Had he and GEA-4 scaled Sacred Mountain’s treacherous face? That portion of his memory seemed real. So did finding Larwin’s special suit and trudging up the endless tunnel to help GEA-4 choose which bits from the Pterois Volitan to bring back and find out how GEA-4 intended to set the explosives from Larwin’s ship so the tunnel would collapse properly. His temples hurt from remembering GEA-4’s strange explanation about why the explosives needed to be set carefully so the entire planetoid didn’t disintegrate and leave something called a wormhole, accessible to whatever found it. She thought Chatterre would be in more danger, that way. He hadn’t understood her explanation any better then than now.
He’d told himself he could ignore his claustrophobia long enough for a look at the world from which his ancestors had fled, so he had put on Larwin’s special suit and managed to endure the confinement of the horrible helmet. His last coherent memory was following GEA-4 though a long dark tunnel to get the last load of useful items from the Pterois Volitan. Specifically, the last thing he recalled was her saying. ‘A madrox is approaching, so we need to hurry, but there should be enough time to get everything and still have time to seal the cavern before it makes its way to this planetoid.’ Obviously, she had not been correct. Before they got back to tunnel, the old world had exploded into a geyser of ash and rock.
"We failed," he said.
"The hydro blast took down enough of the escarpment to make it very difficult for a madrox to reach the wormhole."
For the first time in his life, Thunder felt like he actually understood the words and concept behind GEA-4's words.
Cool circular objects caressed his temples. "Ah, much better, you're calm." In the next instant, the voice became internal as it began speed faster than a falling rock and he suddenly understood that the nightmare image of monstrous golden beasts swimming in a molten lake that seemed to cover an entire orb, was real. Abruptly the speed slowed and, again, GEA-4’s voice was inside his thoughts. "Madrox, or as some cultures call them, golden dragons, live in the nitrogen-rich gasses of Vilecom." Looking closer, he noticed that the Madrox activity created watery ripples in the glowing surface. As he focused his attention on the strange image; a flare erupted from the gaseous surface and rocketed toward him. For a moment all thought went blank, as if the flare had burned out his memory.
A moment later a new image formed, this time a dragon flew silently through a star-studded black void. A second later the image shifted to several golden dragons attacking another sun and volatile vapor spewing toward a greenish orb. As the stream contacted the round or
b, fire burned all the way around the ball. When the flames went out, the orb was cinder-black.
"You just saw an archive tape made by the Royden freight ship, Warfen," GEA-4 said. "The same flare that vaporized Latawba burned out several of the ship's controls. Guerreterran spies were fortunate to obtain this much documentation."
"R-shhh-what?"
"It does not matter. Neither freighter or planet now exist."
"Lat-awe-bah is – was – a world?"
"Correct. It was a brother world to Kalamar. Be still, I must give you more pertinent information and speech requires too much time and effort."
"But how did the world die? Did the golden dragons burn it, as they did my ancestor’s home world?"
In the darkness, sparks flared. "La-taw-ba is where Vole d'Laire's brother and strongest competitor reigned as God Head."
"Voles ruin gardens, but what is a fair ax?"
"On Chatterre a vole is a small mammal. On Kalamar, it is part of the name of the family that rules the planet and God Head is the title of the most high. We do not have time for idle talk, you must learn from the language programs and memories I gave you. "
What an incredible thought.
In the next instant, a flare lashed out across space and destroyed the colorful world. "It is estimated that ten-point-six-trillion slaves inhabited Latawba." He had the impression that GEA-4 was speaking to him, yet the sounds were so fast that there were no words. “Guerreterre's Supreme Colonel assessed that madrox were a constant threat to Kalamar. However, after seeing the madrox's docile behavior toward the Dragon Officer, it is my hypothesis that Kalamar's God Head had his Dragon Officers direct the beasts in battle and kill his own brother, but-" There was a hissing noise. Thunder smelled scorched metal. GEA-4's enunciation sounded feeble, "It is my theory that the Kalamaran strategist is incompetent because the shepherds allowed their ships to get too close to Latawba and were destroyed when the planet imploded.”
GEA-4's statement didn't make sense. Worse, the stench was coming from the same area of her voice and bad smells often accompanied illness. "Are you sick?"
"Ill? No, but badly damaged. I must return to a robotics lab." A tiny spark flared. "My existence is immaterial. Your survival is my first priority."
"Is there anything I can to do help you?" Thunder asked.
"Relax and learn, so I may transfer the history of this planet as well as the two languages of Kalamar while I still have energy to do so."
"Two?"
"On Chatterre, each species has its own language. It is the same for Kalamar."
Thunder grunted in agreement, but still wondered how GEA-4 could teach the nuances of body language of another species through simple conversation. "I believe Kalamar's God Head is trying a galactic coup worthy of a Guerreterran Administrator," GEA-4 stated. Thunder frowned and wished he understood what she was trying so hard to tell him. "I base my theory on the fact he was willing to annihilate his own brother's planet and I believe he used the madrox as a weapon. In order to -" A sizzling sound sent pain whipping up his left arm and down his spine. Thunder screamed in agony.
ooo
Tem-aki gazed at the Admiral’s halo-image. She hadn’t eaten or slept since she’d contacted him and knew it showed, but he looked freshly rested. Worse, his expression appeared smug. It was never a good sign when a superior wore that expression. A tremor of resentment went through her, but she kept a friendly smile on her face. “The scyphozoan style, ctenophore class ship just led the madrox out of the asteroid belt.” If she’d been talking to anyone except Admiral Roget, they both would have exclaimed over the amazing image of the old ship clumsily maneuvering its oddly trailing bits through the orbiting rocks with the madrox obediently following
“Have you been detected?”
“I don’t believe so.”
“Excellent. Once you pass the asteroid field, use stealth-mode and see where they go.” Tem-aki clenched her jaws together, so she wouldn’t remind him that he’d ordered her to do that on their previous communication. The Admiral smoothed his already perfect jacket. “For now, follow that ship and the madrox. Continue to record your observations, and transmit reports whenever possible.” A smile stretched his mouth, but didn’t reach his eyes. “Your observations will help us understand our allies. It’s a very important mission and you will be rewarded.”
“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.” Tem-aki ended the transmission, then sat staring at the blank space. If the Administration wanted to know about the planet so badly, why hadn’t they sent a Shadow Warrior? Larwin had never said so directly, but it had been fairly obvious that a great part of his unit’s success was their ability to infiltrate defenses and gain accurate data on the enemy. And if they could do so against an adversary, it should be twice as easy with allies. This assignment simply did not make sense, except for the fact that she was in the right place at the right time.
Or perhaps the wrong place at the wrong time. After all, who in their right mind would follow a madrox?
Tem-aki doubted if she’d ever understand her superiors. “You heard our new orders, Dasya Voltain,” she said to the computer. “Follow that madrox, but don’t let it spot us.” She added in a whisper, “If my brother is alive, we’re going to save him.”
Chapter 6
"I am sorry.” With each syllable, GEA-4’s voice modulated from bass to soprano then plummeted back, again. “I must attempt to repair the circuit that shorted before continuing with the mind-meld."
"Is Chatterre safe?" Thunder asked. Any pain and torment were worth the price if it was.
"Our mission to destroy the wormhole was marginally successful.” Her tone stabilized at a sultry pitch as she spoke the last two words. “Probables indicate that the blast, which detonated near the portal-tunnel emanated from this ship.”
“But why?”
“I theorize that the dragon officer was on a training mission of some form, possibly targeting the beast for some reason." The statement ended with sparks.
After several long moments of listening to GEA-4 make more adjustments, cool spots touched Thunder's temples. "By the time we reach our destination," a shrill inner voice proclaimed, "probables indicate -" Sparks flashed. "-we will be at-" There was a hissing sound. "-enter of Gharyn Sec-tor. Probables indicate-" The voice cracked like an adolescent boy’s. "Never find another wormhole back."
Thunder wished he understood why whatever GEA-4 wanted to communicate was important enough that she would torture herself to share it. He tried to rub his aching temples, but his gloved fingers were trapped. He shoved at the obstacle, but it was like trying to push away his entire head. He gasped for breath and tried to think of a different way to help himself.
"I need to mind-meld and give you the last of the information." The thin-voiced thought was accompanied by an ominous series of red sparks, and Thunder dimly made out part of a silvery-white face above him.
He could barely recognize her. It looked like Larwin’s mechanical doll had been through a fire and her strange skin had melted into an awful mess of metallic bits. “I thought you were flame proof."
"But not explosion proof.” The pressure on his temples increased. “Relax. Learn." A blue ball suddenly materialized in the distance and hurtled toward him. He raised his hands to catch it, but it grew larger and larger until it seemed to grow much too big to play with. And it continued to expand. Chills of apprehension coiled within him. When it appeared to be an arms length away, the ball halted in mid-air and begin to revolve. When nothing more ominous happened, Thunder studied the head-high orb rotating in front of him. The blue varied in shade and intensity from vivid azure to a strange grayish-turquoise, which had an attractive mottled pattern. As he watched, the colors rippled like water moving across a rocky shoal. Fascinating. Mesmerizing. Except for a few frothy fields of variegated green with odd fluff in areas around the edges, everything seemed to be some shade of blue. Thunder squinted at the strange areas, but the ball continued revolving. Gradually, an u
gly black splotch with eight geometrically precise sides came into view. The tiny hairs on the back of his neck rose, as if he was looking as something deadly.
Thunder closed his eyes and shook his head to clear away the impression, but as he looked away from the sphere, he noticed words and symbols hovering in the air, all giving odd bits of information about water, rice production and something called pollution. No sooner had the idea formed, when the words dissolved. An odd sense of loss caused his stomach to clench. Then, his head began to ache as if ready to burst and he realized, theories about temperature and climate were softly squeaking in the back parts of his mind. He refocused on the rotating ball, needing something to calm him as GEA-4 did whatever it was that she did. As he watched the beautiful mottled shades of blue, the tiny voice became as soothing as waves lapping at the shore. Again, the black area came into sight. The water he’d nearly drowned in had been black, too. Panic built until he couldn’t separate the memory from the strange turning orb. The image flickered, then the thin voice explained, “This sphere is not your river; it is a world covered in water. It is Kalamar.”
He shuddered at the idea of such a nightmare place.
When only chilled skin and a drained feeling remained, the whispered tones ceased. "With your dislike for water, it is unfortunate that a Kalamaran ship rescued you." There was a crackling red glow and he smelled a strong burning stench. "I do not – have – much time – before – my over-ride shorts – out."
He placed his palm on top of the hand she had on his right temple. "I appreciate whatever you're trying to do, but I just want to get up and go home."
"That is what I've tried to tell you. You can not go home. You and I were injured by a hydro blast. You are on board a very old spaceship." There was an ominous hissing noise, then word, by word, GEA-4 continued, "We would have been consumed by a madrox if the Dragon Officer had not rescued us. The Kalamar-" GEA-4's diction slowed until it was syllable by syllable. "Are not known for benevolence. She wants something. If we _ separated." Entire words dropped. "you _ not trust _. My program _ untrustworthy _ barbari-" A fountain of sparks lit the room and static sounded like the rapid fire of a heavy rain cut GEA-4 off in mid-word.
Thunder Moon: Book 2 of the Chatterre Trilogy (Chatterre Triology) Page 6