to plan.”
Finn nods and kisses my cheek. I can’t see his face but I feel something wet on it, the salty
consistency of a single tear. “Remember your promise,” I whisper in his ear.
When I start climbing onto the pod, Damian materializes out of nowhere in the dim light of early
morning.
“I’m going with you,” he says.
“You can’t do that,” I say exasperated. “The instructions were clear. Only I can go.”
“I won’t go all the way to the plantation with you. I’ll sneak in later. I’ll keep an eye on you.”
“No, you’re more needed here.”
“I know what I’m doing,” he starts saying but I cut him off.
“I’m not going to put you in unnecessary danger. If they spot you, they will hunt you down. I
understand your need to do something but you’ll have to do it under Finn’s command. You will both
join the Dark Legion.”
I can almost hear the rage inside his head but surprisingly the loyalty in him wins. He bows and
promises to follow my orders. Maybe there is hope for Damian after all.
“Wait a moment,” Doc says and pulls me by the arm.
“What is it?” I say.
“I managed to get DNA samples from Damian,” he says. “We might have answers soon.”
“Good,” I say. “Maybe you can help him.”
As the space pod plunges off into the violet sky, I immediately turn all emotion off. I’ve
practiced enough hours. Today can be a new beginning or today can be the end. My mind must
become a sensory super computer. I am like nothing the world has ever known. Rage flows freely
from my fingertips. The impossible is my personal playground. I can flow seven streams of energy in
a single instant of glorious destruction.
I’m going home. Wait until they see what I’ve become.
PART THREE
You can never go home again
16
Three huge Sliman guards wait for me at the main gate of Plantation-8. They lead me through
familiar paths and turns to the west wing of the construction. There’s not a single exchange of words
with my guides. Their lips are sealed and the only sound coming from them is that of their shock bows
as they swing from the straps over their shoulders.
The silence comes to an end as we walk past the dorms. There’s a long line of children’s faces
glued to the windows. Children’s faces that show recognition and respect instead of fear. Those are
children that might die today because of me. They must know it in their hearts but they don’t hold it
against me. They start tapping on the windows with their fingernails as I stride down the path to the
west wing making it harder and harder for me to remain distant and emotionless.
We reach the HQ building in the west wing. I take a look at the walls and windows and realize
they have been armored and reinforced with material that will withstand any kind of blast wave no
matter how forceful or expansive.
One of the Sliman guards opens the door and leads me inside the HQ. I’ve never been here
before so there is a certain amount of curiosity involved but what I see isn’t that much different than the HQ building at the abandoned facilities. A small hallway rigged with cameras and sensors. Two
doors in the back of the hallway, one of them probably leading upstairs. The only difference that I can see is that there is a DNA scanner placed between the two doors. Maybe they put it there specifically
for me. That would be too bad because I don’t plan to go through it.
A fourth Sliman comes through the door on the right. He keeps a safe distance but his gaze is
fixated on me. He looks me up and down for a good minute before he decides to open his mouth.
“I have instructions to take the sensory receptor from you,” he says.
“That is not going to happen,” I say. Someone must think I’m really stupid.
“The instructions were clear,” he insists.
“As is my answer.”
He doesn’t like this one bit. He talks into his communication clip in a language I don’t
understand. When he’s done, he turns his attention back to me.
“You can keep the receptor for now,” he says, “but you have to give me your backpack and
everything else that you have on you.”
I take the straps off my shoulders and hand him the backpack. He opens the door through which
he came and extends his arm to show me the way. I walk through the door that closes behind me. The
Sliman don’t follow me.
The corridor is narrow and dimly lit. As I walk at a slow pace, a bright green light is turned on
above a door in the back. It’s an elevator door and when I get inside, I notice that the only way is up. I rise in the elevator trying to keep my heart and mind empty.
When the elevator door opens, I step into a circular room with windows all around, much like
an observatory tower. A console in the center of the room displays images of different parts of the
plantation on transparent glass screens.
Suddenly, I realize how vulnerable I am standing in this room, how I could potentially already
be a prisoner in this tower. They are probably watching me right now, scanning my expressions, x—
raying my brain for information. Maybe they are deactivating my receptor. I have been foolish to
agree to coming here on my own, but that’s not a new conclusion. Foolishness is one of my key traits.
Maybe the one trait that has kept me going.
I still have the receptor, though, and it’s no small comfort to know that. I put my fingers in my
pocket to touch it and I turn it on manually. To my great relief, it responds immediately humming and
buzzing like a plump, happy bee.
I take a few steps around the room looking through the windows down at the plantation grounds.
Nothing has changed since my escape four years ago. The same ugly gray walls dominate the
landscape.
“We are pleased to see you.” The voice comes from behind me. By the time I turn, the alien has
materialized next to the console.
I shake away my initial disorientation at his startling appearance and reorganize my thoughts. So,
they are not going to try to shoot me, zap me, poison me or sedate me from afar. Not yet anyway.
“I’m sorry I can’t say the same,” I reply with my hand on the eager receptor.
The alien snaps his fingers and the screens on the console go black. He is about my height and
his face is hidden behind a black mask. His eyes are clear and brown, something very unusual for an
alien. Most of them have blurry, reddish eyes that have no life left in them.
“I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a long time,” the alien goes on. I realize that it’s not just the eyes but the voice as well that possesses a rare clear quality. Maybe this is a young specimen,
although according to Wudak there have been no alien births in many decades, maybe centuries.
“May I?” he says as he walks to me extending a grayish, dried-up hand.
He doesn’t wait for my response. He touches my hair curiously, then the skin on my cheeks. I
tolerate this intrusion for a few seconds before I take two steps to the left and away from his prying fingers.
“I should say I am surprised to see you here today. I thought you’d put up more of a fight. Bring
in your fellow Saviors maybe.”
So they know what we call ourselves and they probably have figured out exactly what we call
each other as well. If they thought that this little discovery on their part wo
uld throw me in some state of confusion or fear, they are sorely mistaken. There’s nothing that could shock me right now. I have
accepted that everything is possible.
“I am glad you didn’t involve them,” the alien goes on. “It would be such a waste to have all
those talented young human children exterminated. I am sure you will help them see the honesty of our
intentions. We do not wish to fight you anymore. We want to invite you to be part of our empire. All
of you.”
I grab the opportunity to stall him. That’s the initial part of my mission after all.
“You have an empire?” I say.
“Of course we do. You didn’t think Earth was all that special, did you? This is just one of many
planets in the interplanetary empire.”
“Aren’t most of those planets dead?” I say. “Including yours?” I realize this offensive tactic
might backfire but it’s too late to take the words back.
The alien looks at me with a new interest. “How do you know that?” he says.
“I can read your mind,” I say. Sarcasm isn’t going to help me out of this one though. I have to
give something up to keep the secret of the rebel Sliman safe. “One of the Saviors. She had great
psychic powers. She is dead now.”
This seems to please the alien for now. “One more successful mutation,” he says. “We’ve tried
it several times but it’s one of the hardest mutations to realize. Most of the subjects die or go mad.”
“Why does it make you so happy to have successful mutations? What do you need them for?”
“Happy is not a word I would use,” he says. “Happiness is a human word and it stems from the
most primitive parts of your brain. We don’t need happiness. We need fulfillment. If I try to make
something and I succeed, then I am fulfilled. You humans always need a little bit more. You go after
happiness in the most painful ways. It’s a puzzling thing to watch.”
“At least we don’t destroy civilizations on different planets.”
“You would have if you could,” he says. “Because your kind will always need more.”
“Is this why you chose Earth? Because you hated us?”
“We did not know who you were when we traveled through the wormholes and space portals
looking for the right environment and temperatures. The selection was based on compatibility. It
helped that there was no sustained resistance.”
“You appeared out of nowhere, didn’t you? The governments of Earth didn’t react because they
didn’t see you until it was too late.”
“First we took over the nuclear facilities,” he says with great satisfaction in his voice. “The rest
was easy.”
“Genocide is never easy. And if it is, it means you are evil, bloodthirsty murderers and
everything we do to get rid of you is justified.”
“I like your spirit,” he says. “I will enjoy having you here.”
“Why do you want me so badly? Why don’t you just kill me? Especially if the girl that talked to
me truly is the same as me.”
The alien moves his hand over the console and the screens come alive again.
“You know what you are. You are what I used to be. What all of us used to be. Strong, powerful,
energized, skilled and determined. I look at you and I don’t see our future, I see our past. We used to be the brightest race of intelligent life in the universe. I have to preserve that. You will be safe with me. You can trust me now.”
“I’d sooner die than trust an invader,” I say.
“There’s nowhere to go, Freya. Isn’t that what you call yourself?”
“Is it supposed to scare me that you know my name?”
“I was amazed at how you managed to get Damian out of the most secure plantation. Even though
I know what you’re capable of, I didn’t see that coming. I was proud of you. After all, you are my
creation. And so is Damian. He’s probably my most special child. Parts of his DNA strand were
created by my own father. Make no mistake, I will claim him back. The seed is in him already and it
will grow daily. When I call him, he will not be able to resist. He will team up with Kroll. With them and you by my side, I will restore the empire to its past splendor and take over the universe.”
“Kroll? The Dark Leader? He’s a special child of yours, too?”
The alien looks more than puzzled now. I don’t care if he knows I know about Kroll. It will all
be clear by the end of the day. His frustration might be helpful for what I have in mind.
“You know about Kroll, too?” he says. “Maybe I have underestimated you. You understand you
can’t blame it all on your dead friend. In time you will have to tell me how you came to know all this.
For now, what’s important is that Kroll’s allegiance is mine. Damian is turning day by day. His total
conversion has been set in motion even if you took him away from me. You were the only piece
missing from the puzzle and now you’re here. Whoever has the three of you will rule the Earth and
beyond.”
His eyes sparkle in the morning light that is filtered through the windows. He stretches his arm
and lets his hand hang freely over the console.
“Do you see this black key?” he says.
I lean over to see what he’s pointing at. It’s a tiny triangle surrounded by bigger buttons and
switches.
“When I push it, the whole plantation will explode,” he says. “Only this building will remain
standing. The guards have been safely shielded also. But all two thousand children are locked in the
dorms. Including the man we know to be your brother.”
“But you won’t push that button,” I say. “Because I’m here and you need me. I won’t co-operate
if you do that.”
The alien snaps his fingers again and a new transparent glass screen emerges above the console.
This one is the size of the console itself. I can see clear and detailed images from within the dorms.
Hundreds sets of eyes, little hands and feet, patiently waiting to learn their fate.
“Do they know the place is rigged to explode?” I say.
“Yes. They also know who will be responsible if that happens. Now give me the receptor or
everybody dies,” he says raising his voice as he calls his own receptor to his left hand. The right hand is still hanging above the triangle key of doom. It would take less than a split second for him to send down the pulsing energy that will activate the explosion.
“You can do whatever you want,” I say. “I’m not giving you my receptor. There’s a wonderful
union between the two of us now. I’m not ready to give that up.”
Anger creeps into the alien’s eyes.
“Stop playing games with me,” he says. “You can’t bluff your way out of this dilemma. You
would never risk so many innocent lives. No human ever would.”
“Bluff? Who’s bluffing?” I say employing a stunned face. “I think you are forgetting something.”
“What could I have possibly forgotten?”
“I am your creation,” I tell him. “Which means I am not human.”
As casual as can be I reach forward to the console and push the black triangle key with as much
force as I can muster.
17
The time comes when you have to make the ultimate decision. When you stack up all your cards
and pull out the one you think will help you win. But there are no guarantees. A calculated risk can
still lead to disaster.
I have pushed the button that’s supposed to cause a chain of explosions that
will blow the entire
plantation to smithereens except for the HQ building.
The alien is shocked, there’s no question about that. He starts shrieking. Incomprehensible
sounds come out of his mouth and his hands are shaking. He runs to the window to make sure that he
is not dreaming.
There’s no fire, no smoke, no loud explosions, no breaking glass. The plantation remains quiet
and undisturbed. Nothing has happened.
The alien runs back to the console and pushes the triangle button again and again. Then he raises
his face and locks his eyes with mine.
“You!” he yells. “You did this. You knew the whole time.”
I nod. “To be fair, I wasn’t sure. I was hoping my army had succeeded in deactivating the
explosive mechanisms but I took a risk when I pushed that button.”
“It’s not possible. No army could get past my security systems. Not today and not here,” he says
with a shrilling tone that is less than becoming. His anxiety levels are so high, I could sense his
nervous energy in my fingertips.
“No army? Are you sure? What about the one you trust the most? How about the leader of that
army? The one that knows all about your security systems and their flaws?”
“No,” he says. “I won’t believe that.”
Winning feels good. I may not have won the war yet, but this battle is mine. I wonder if that’s the
kind of fulfillment the alien was talking about.
“What was it that you said?” I go on. “Whoever has Damian and Kroll will rule? Is that right? I
don’t need the whole universe. Just this one little rock. Third from the Sun.”
I take out my receptor as I walk backward to the window. I switch on the communication
channel. “Kroll,” I say. “Show your face.”
Nothing happens at first, but when Kroll responds to my call, he does so in a way that leaves no
room for doubt. “At your service,” he says and the alien’s eyes turn red in their fury.
I connect the feed from the receptor to the console. Multiple images of Kroll come up on the
screen. He looks majestic and ferocious as he walks about Plantation-8 in a long crimson cloak.
“Thank you for a job well done,” I say. “Now kneel down.”
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