Ghosts of Lyarra

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Ghosts of Lyarra Page 19

by Damian Shishkin


  It was this time that he took notice that his companion was not in the suite, nor had she been all night. Iana had taken to her new freedom like a new addict to a drug; she was obsessed with enjoying life and partying the nights away with both tourists and humans alike. Aen was slightly concerned that on the night he had killed a Lyarran and left the body to be discovered as a message to her handlers, the one he sought to protect was nowhere in sight.

  “Locate Iana.” Aen ordered to the AI that he knew was always listening.

  “She is leaving a nearby hotel and appears to be making her way back to us now.” Caretaker announced. “Heart rate and hormone levels are both heightened; it appears she has either been involved in a rigorous sexual encounter or has partaken in one or more of the recreational drugs that go with the local club scene.”

  “Warm the shuttle engines.” Aen whispered, still processing the facts just given. “The longer we stay here the more danger she will be in.”

  “As you wish.” Caretaker replied as he began the cycle of the engine warm up. “Might I add that the next traitor you find, you not make a statement with the body? The local law enforcement has already been discovered and a special task force that was behind us in Tokyo is en-route to the scene; as is Terra Sol Council Sara Foster and Council Lyxia of the Dark Light. It appears you got everyone’s attention with this act.”

  “Everything is being done for a reason.” Aen replied to the chastising. “At least everything I am doing is. Whether or not word of Palla’s death makes it back to her masters makes little difference, but her death was very useful indeed. But in light of what she told me, I am afraid we will have to slow our timetable down until I can make sense of what I learned.”

  He heard the elevator door open and someone staggering down the hall towards them. It appeared that the party girl had finally remembered where she was supposed to be at long last. Instead of continuing with his conversation, Aen waited as the door knob rustled and the card lock beeped when Iana fell into the room as the door swung open. For a second she remained still, then she slowly lifted her head to see Aen standing above her.

  “Busted!” she giggled.

  “I am reading blood alcohol levels at 1.2%; I believe or dear Empress is drunk.” Caretaker observed.

  “Tattletale!” she hissed at the AI’s voice. “Is it wrong for me to be having fun?”

  Aen simply looked down at her with neither judgement nor emotion. It was natural for someone who had been under guard and watchful eye her entire life to let loose once removed from scrutiny. In a sense, she was like a teenage girl trying to find herself; and as Aen couldn’t remember his past life, he was not in the position to cast judgement or punishment on her.

  “We’re leaving.” He said to his drunken ward. “Get your shit and let’s go. You can sleep it off on the way back to Tibet.”

  “You can’t boss me around!” she muttered defiantly as she tried to stand, but fell down to her knees giggling. “I’m a fucking princess; I mean an Empress!”

  “You are drunk.” He answered, helping her to her feet. “And in this state you are a liability.”

  “I didn’t ask you to save me!” she spat at him. “I didn’t ask to be anything. They just expected me be this glorious leader and I tried so hard to do them proud.” Iana started sobbing; the alcohol letting loose thousands of years of repressed emotion at once. “And when I get a chance to let loose, all I get from you is a blank stare.”

  She pointed her finger and poked him in the chest. “And who are you to judge me?” she babbled. “You have no right to judge anyone; you don’t even know who the hell you are!”

  Aen winced at that comment; not expecting this kind of backlash from her in the least. It was a slap in the face a hundred times more hurtful than any blade that ever pierced his skin. The woman he sought to protect had lashed out at him; as he knew she might at some point; but not in his wildest dreams did he figure she would hate him like this. His face showed the pain of her words, and in response Iana’s changed from angry to apologetic.

  “I didn’t mean….” She started to say, but her body shut down from the effects of the drinks and days accumulation of partying; Iana passed out in his arms.

  “The shuttle is primed.” Caretaker cut in to alleviate the silence. “But I am afraid the authorities have cast a no fly order on the city. If we attempt to leave, they will find us for sure.”

  “Our shuttle isn’t the only way to get home.” Aen said as he gently wiped the drool from Iana’s face. “The only reason to use it was for her; but since she will be out for a while I will take care of the travel arrangements. Besides, all it can do to her is make the hangover that much worse when she wakes up.”

  —

  “So begins the shit show!” Wilson mumbled to himself as he watched Council Foster’s shuttle descend on the street. He had tried hard to put aside the insult of someone looking over his shoulder as he tried to solve these random acts of violence since being notified that the Lyarran Council demanded to be a part of the investigation, but to no avail. Here he was; knee deep in some kind of psychopath’s rampage; and now he had to babysit not one, but two dignitaries, while trying to catch a killer. The thud of the ship landing drew him forward to greet them as the ramp at the rear of the vessel lowered, but what he saw blew him away!

  Instead of some highly and ornamentally dressed politician on board, there was a bronze clad warrior with a plethora of Ifierin to guard her. She was striking to behold, and for the first time since he saw his wife on their wedding day he was in awe of a woman. He doubted she needed a single one of those guards. Her eyes scanned the scene, locked on him as she marched off the ship and right up to him.

  “You are the Wilson?” she asked in fragmented English.

  “I am Lieutenant Avery Wilson.” He replied with a slight bow of respect to her. “It is a pleasure to have you join….”

  “Save it!” she interrupted. “Show me the body first, then I want to see everything else.”

  Wilson could tell she was a woman of few words; born of action rather than politics. She was driven to find out why one of her own had died, but he feared once she saw the remains, that her gung ho attitude will die down a bit.

  “Follow me.” He waved her and her entourage to follow. He led them into a temporary tent set up to keep the stasis pod from the prying eyes of onlookers; he was trying like hell to prevent as much of this from getting out to the public as possible. He stopped at the middle of the room as the group circled around the black metal coffin and he drew back the pressurized lid, a hiss escaped when the seal was broken.

  Even the battle hardened ship commander gasped at the sight of the beaten and broken body; gone was any trace of the bronze skin as blackened bruises and clotting blue blood covered most of the exposed skin. Her fingers were broken and twisted; arms as well, with shards of bone piercing the surface. Her face was swollen and black with her eyes still leaking blood from the corners of the swollen shut lids. The skull was fractured in multiple places as her brown hair was matted with blue blood. This woman had been in a one sided fight and paid the price for being the weaker combatant.

  “Why would someone do something like this?” Lyxia wondered out loud. “What would possess someone to beat a creature this bad?”

  “If you ask me, it looks like she was being held and tortured for information.” Wilson added. “In the old days on Earth, this is what we called persuasive interrogation.”

  “So you are saying that this was done by a human?” she asked; her eyes tearing through his flesh and into his soul with a fierceness he had never seen.

  “No, whatever did this was definitely not human.” He answered; hoping she would stop glaring at him. “She was a powerful creature; more than capable of fighting an entire gang of humans on her own and coming out on top. There are no wounds that suggest punching, kicking, or any weapon strikes; other than the wound made by the sword that finally ended her life. In a minute I will show you
where we found her and then where we figure all this went down; and then it will make sense that we are dealing with something completely unknown.”

  “Have you identified her?” Sara spoke up from the back. He hadn’t even seen her get off the shuttle as Lyxia had commanded all his attention immediately.

  “No Council, we haven’t.” he answered; finally tearing his eyes off the Paxyn Commander. “We ran her face through all our visitor files and came up empty.”

  “Visitor files?” Lyxia asked Sara.

  “All non-Earth beings entering the system are photographed and logged into the mainframe; makes identifying them for any reason, easier in the event of any type of trouble.” Sara said unapologetically.

  “You are spying on your guests to your world?”

  “Monitoring to ensure the safety of our planet.” Sara replied. “After the Husk, security and the well -being of the human race became our priority. As the commander of a ship of thousands, you of all people can appreciate ensuring the safety of those under your watch. I assure you, there is no intent to spy actively on tourists to Earth.”

  “I trust you, Sara Foster.” She smiled. “Though you are full of surprises.”

  “I was hoping that you could shed some light on who she is.” Wilson spoke up to draw the attention back to the matter at hand. “And once you did, tell me exactly what she was doing here and how she got on the planet without being seen.”

  But an answer never came, the Lyarran Councillor just stared right through him then went back to studying the body. Wilson watched as she reached in and pulled at the clothing of the body; exposing the neck and upper chest area to reveal the bottom end of what used to be a customary tattoo marking, that from what he had seen, started at the left eye and ran down onto the collar bone.

  “It has been removed from her face.” She said softly. “And altered to look like it flowed a different way.”

  Then she pulled back the matted hair, letting the strands fall from her fingers before brushing the hair to reveal human looking ears. This drew a curious look from Lyxia, who then glanced over to one of her guards. The two exchanged a look as she let the hair fall again.

  “She was not here as a visitor,” Lyxia began; drawing a sharp breath. “A quick inspection tells me that she had undergone alterations to appear more human.”

  “A spy?” Wilson asked forcefully.

  “Maybe.” She replied. “But by the way the scars have healed on her ears tells me she has been here longer than our initial involvement with the Husk conflict.”

  Again, Lyxia reached into the stasis pod, but this time she grabbed the left hand and studied the thumb and the three fingers. She looked each of them over closely; her blue orbed eyes narrowing to near slits before stopping on the third finger and opening wide. There at the base of the finger was a scar, but a scar that was carved in the skin in a specific design; a straight line with a curved one crossing at the top and snaking down to the joint. Once again, she shot a glance to her entourage; one of which stepped forward and removed his helmet. He looked closer, muttered a word in their language, which Wilson didn’t understand, and spat on the ground.

  “Forgotten.” She whispered.

  “Enlighten me Council.” Avery pleaded.

  “The elite assassins of the Guild.” She replied with a cold and hate filled look. “Misfits and psychopaths too reckless and evil to be Ifierin that are snatched up by the Temple priestess’ and made into killing machines with no honor or code.”

  “So if she was here, what or who was she sent to kill?” Sara chimed in.

  “Maybe she failed and they sent another to kill her?” Wilson offered.

  Lyxia shook her head to deny that claim, but stayed silent for a moment longer; choosing to study the face closer than ever. Leaning in, she held her face mere inches away from the corpse’s to study every curve and line; trying to put the puzzle of the shattered features back together.

  “Maybe if we search around, we can find her ship?” Wilson asked; waving one of his men over to begin relaying the order.

  “Then you would waste more time, and the killer would be that much further from us.” Lyxia snarled. “Her ship is long gone; in fact, all of us witnessed its destruction years ago in orbit.”

  “You mean…” Sara stammered.

  “So you recognize her?” asked Wilson.

  “Indeed.” Lyxia stood upright and tall; her eyes showed a glint of sadness. “She is Palla; reported deceased over four hundred years ago by her commanding officer, Ameia. She was the chief security officer of the Amarra.”

  Everyone was stunned and an odd silence gripped the group with only the breeze buffeting the tent audible. It took a few moments, but it was Lieutenant Wilson that broke the eerie quiet.

  “Fuck.” He said calmly. “I guess the dead can come back to life. Wait till the old man hears this shit!”

  NINE

  Himalayan Mountains;

  Mount Kailash, Tibet

  Iana woke up suddenly and rolled over to find the bucket was still where she left it from before; half filled with vomit from other purges of her system. The smell was putrid, but it helped her fill it more as she continued to let her body remedy the pain and torture she inflicted on it on her nightly excursions. Her stomach felt like it was on fire, and her throat burned all the way out to her teeth. When she was finished, she let the bucket drop back to the metal floor and she rolled onto her back once more.

  But his time. There was no more sleep to hide from her suffering. Her body ached and her clothes smelled rank; for the first time, Iana became aware that she looked and smelled less than lady-like. Her hair was a nest of tangles mixed with pieces of vomit, and her skin was oily and sticky. Her hands roamed her torn dress and discovered stains of a questionable nature; she had been less than proper with her actions and feelings of regret immediately added to her misery.

  She struggled to stand; her legs wobbly as the only intake she had given herself was mainly for enjoyment, not nourishment. And any nutrients she had in her system now floated in the foul smelling bucket by her feet. Iana was disgusted at herself; the mighty Empress had fallen down to nothing more than a wreck.

  “Caretaker.” She croaked. Her dry throat let loose a hoarse voice that sounded nothing like her usual songstress self.

  “Welcome back to the living!” the sphere of orange light appeared right in front of her; causing her to fall back to sitting on the bed. His voice rang like cannons in her head and even the holographic light was much too bright for her.

  “What is it the humans say?” she muttered. “Oh yes; this sucks!”

  “You still have high levels of alcohol in your system as you are fighting off a version of alcohol poisoning.” It retorted. “As Mori physiology is quite a mystery, I have been unable to concoct any type of remedy to assist you in your recovery. I have taken rather extensive notes on how the massive amounts of alcohol you consumed has not only affected you, but also how your body choses to process such a foreign chemical.”

  “I am glad my suffering has kept you entertained.” She grumbled, getting back to her feet.

  Iana tore the remaining shoulder strap of the dress and let it fall in a heap around her ankles as she stepped free and staggered to the shower down the hall completely naked.

  “Burn that for me.” She whispered; her feet barely making a sound as she clumsily made her way to the showers. She knew there was no one in the ship with her, and if there was she wouldn’t have cared if they saw her nude. Iana was comfortable with her body and cared little if she was clothed or not most days in the palace. In a way, it was her way of expressing a bit of freedom in her repressed world; a far cry from the embarrassing way she had been expressing it as of late. Besides, the only other being here was Aen, and she could tell he was in the temple above and not in the ship stowed away in the hangar with her.

  She punched in the memory pre-sets and the water began to flow hot and sterile; Iana began to feel the remnants of swea
t and filth wash away. Within seconds, she began to feel better as her body regained its purity as she muttered a whisper of a promise to herself to never do that again. Her thoughts turned back to her companion, and to the harsh words she remembered hitting him with in her drunken state. Iana owed him a deep heartfelt apology; after all he had done for her Aen deserved much better.

  Immediately, she reached out with her mind for his and found him not in the temple, but above it. In the time she had been unconscious, Aen had tunneled up to the surface from the front doors and up the stairs of the crater to the rim above where he was basking in the pure afternoon sun. But as she was about to say she was sorry, he felt her and spoke first.

  “Don’t start.” His voice was calm in her head. “When you are ready, dress warm and join me on the surface. I have learned much and there is a lot to discuss.”

  And then she was shut out; Aen closed his mind to her in a trick she never knew he possessed. She felt the disappointment in his words; the sting of her actions was still fresh in his mind. Iana finished her shower slowly in an attempt to delay her meeting with Aen as long as possible. When she emerged from the stall, she was met by a drone with warm towels and fresh clothes; what humans called jeans and a hooded sweater. After acquiring a jacket, she set off to meet Aen above on the mountain top.

  Each step was easier than the previous as the exercise of climbing the long winding staircase proved to be a good remedy for the hangover. Her body burned away the excess toxins she had flooded it with; Iana’s mind cleared with each push upwards. Before she knew it, she stood at the grand doors of the temple entrance and trusting what she had seen in Aen’s mind pulled them open. Iana had closed her eyes as she opened them in fear of being caught in an avalanche of snow and ice that had built up on the other side of them. Instead, she opened them to see a tunnel of sheer ice with a near fifteen foot diameter that led out and to the stairs; the slight reflection from the sunlight at the end of the tunnel lit the ice slightly adding an eerie but beautiful tone to it. It was inviting - not scary - and she didn’t hesitate long to enter and explore.

 

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