But Chief Innovator DeathWatch hadn’t been content to stick with just Ardaks and had been the one who first attempted to create cyborgs from other species, like her own. She had read the history and the science behind the procedure, had seen the documentation on the different studies. She knew she had been the only female who had survived the implantation but did not know why. That information went far beyond her access to the ship’s records.
Still, Chief Innovator DeathWatch had told her over and over again how valuable she was. The first cyborg who could integrate directly with the ship’s intelligence system. Usually, the programs that ran the ships evolved on their own, but beings fitted with a chip should technically be able to integrate with them. However, as the systems evolved, they developed a personality of their own. Of all the cyborgs ever made, she was the first to be successful at a full integration, which was why Aria and CXV1 had become friends of sorts.
She strode down the corridor to the very last laboratory, which was all hers, and yowled into the voice recognition mic. Her voice wasn’t exactly like an Ardak’s, but it was close enough for the security to recognize it and allow the door to swing open.
She entered the laboratory, its stark metal walls contrasting with the porous, natural surfaces that covered the living spaces of the ship.
She stood before a long metal bench, staring at the device she and Chief Innovator DeathWatch had built to channel the larger crystal’s power. But she couldn’t concentrate on the device.
“Where are they? Why didn’t they take me with them? They told me I was the best cyborg ever made, so I should have gone, too.”
“You are the best, Aria,” the ship’s computer agreed. “But they didn’t want you to be in danger. So they left you. And me.”
It said the last almost as an afterthought.
Aria’s stomach rumbled. “Are you sure you have no knowledge of where to get more liquid nutrition packets on this ship?”
“I’m sorry, Aria. I have searched my files, but there is no information on the subject. I believe Chief Innovator DeathWatch was going to do something different with your nutrition because he was running out of liquid packets. But those plans are locked in his encrypted files.”
“There is no way for you to get into them?” She stared up at the video device in the corner of the room, knowing the ship could see her.
“No, I don’t have security clearance for his files.” The system paused for a moment. “You need to consider the possibility that they failed the mission.”
She started. “General Slash never fails.”
“General Slash never fails to check in, either.”
Either General Slash had left her or he had failed in his mission. Both realities were impossible for her processors to accept. But if he did fail in the mission, there wouldn’t be enough power to get back to Baihu. She would be stuck here.
She sighed and picked up her tools, going to work on a new piece for the ship’s cryocooling system. If they got the crystal, there were upgrades to make on the ship so it could handle the extra power.
“Where could they be?” she asked as she worked. It was quiet. Too quiet. The smooth metal walls of the laboratory corridor usually echoed with the sounds of the Ardaks. But two solar days ago, they had all left on a special mission to obtain the crystal so they could go home.
“Why haven’t they returned?”
The ship didn’t answer. Perhaps by then it was used to her talking to herself.
She was lonely. And she was hungry and thirsty. It had been three days since her last infusion of nourishment liquid, as DeathWatch had been too busy readying his innovations for the army the day before they left to feed her.
But DeathWatch wasn’t the only one to leave her behind. Ouirer had also left her. She thought she was finally breaking through his tough old hide. He came in often to have his cybernetics worked on, and she teased him mercilessly about being an antiquated Ardak cyborg.
“Something must have happened to them. They’ve never been out of contact for more than a standard hour before.” What if they didn’t return? What if they were dead?
She would have to leave the ship, and the prospect made her hands tremble with anxiety. But she had to find them, help them if she could. She had waited so long to leave because Ouirer had told her the predators outside were exceedingly vicious, and Chief Innovator DeathWatch made it clear that she should be protected.
But I can’t be protected if no one is here to protect me.
“Do you have any life readings for the Ardaks outside the ship?”
“No. All of them disappeared at once shortly after the Ardaks left the ship.”
She hesitated. “Do you think they are dead?”
“I have no knowledge either way.”
The answer was clear. “There is nothing to be gained by waiting here. Acquiring knowledge firsthand is the only answer. Where is the ship located?”
“The ship is located on the planet of Aurora, beneath the Siirtian mountain range.”
“Where do you think they would go?”
“I understood they were going to Renwyn, an elven realm about twenty-five units from here.”
“Where could I find maps and other information about the world outside?”
The ship was silent for a moment. “The general built a separate command center in the mountain to house operations on Aurora.”
“He did?”
“Yes. There you may find some of the answers you seek.”
“And do you have a map that would guide me to that location?”
“I do.”
Aria stared down the hall toward the docking bay door. She knew that was the exit, but she’d never been outside the ship.
I will grab some weapons to protect myself and look for this command center.
I have to.
Chapter Three
Roihan
Where is my wife?
Roihan had asked himself the same question for the four thousand and fifty-third time since the procession of women and children had slowly been passing him on the way to the elven palace. There were terribly few in number, maybe three hundred at most.
The saddest thing was that he didn’t remember how many there should be.
He stood to the side of the tunnel with many of the other cyborgs. Although most of them couldn’t remember the time before their chips were inserted, there was always the hope that the women or children would recognize a husband, son, or friend. Many had, and each time someone cried out and ran to a cyborg, embracing him as he stood confused and lost, Roihan’s own heart squeezed with an unknown emotion.
They had all done terrible things while under control of the chip, and no one would blame the women and children for being suspicious. Some cringed as they walked between the lines of cyborgs, keeping their chins tucked low and their eyes downcast even though they’d been told not to be afraid.
He was searching every face, desperate for some sign of recognition, some sign that one of these women was his wife. He still couldn’t remember her face, but he was almost certain he would recognize her.
As face after face passed by, he began to lose hope that she was in the procession of refugees. When the cyborg who signaled the end of the line became visible, he wanted to roar with anger so he didn’t feel the painful sense of defeat. He would take apart the whole mountain stone by stone until he found her.
He tried to push the cyborg aside and head in the direction of the base, but the man stopped him.
“Wait a minute.” It was only the sense of familiarity in the cyborg’s voice that stopped his movement. “Are you looking for Aria?”
“Valdjan?” He focused on the other man’s face. “I am looking for my wife. Is that her name?”
“Yes. It was,” the cyborg replied, holding out his arm in a warrior’s greeting. He was almost as tall as Roihan but slightly smaller in build. Something about his sad grin seemed familiar.
Roihan didn’t like the way he spok
e about Aria in the past tense. He reached out to clasp Valdjan’s arm, measuring the man as he did so. Despite his misgivings, he found that he instantly liked the other cyborg’s direct gaze.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” Roihan shook his head, and Valdjan continued, “Aria was my cousin. I haven’t seen her since the attacks. And she wasn’t among the slaves we freed.” He lowered his voice. “The Ardaks killed so many of us. She might not have survived.”
Roihan hit the wall of the cave with a closed fist, cracks spreading outward.
“Whoa there, big guy.” Valdjan put a hand on his shoulder. “I just mentioned the possibility because this is the greatest tragedy we have ever known as a people. Most of our people did not survive.”
“How do you know?” Roihan ground out. “What do you remember?”
“I was one of the first cyborgs, and the chip didn’t block my memories.” Valdjan shook his head. “But I would have said that if any of us were likely to survive an Ardak invasion, it would have been her. She has always been a fighter.” He smiled briefly at the memory. “Well, she was.”
“I . . . can’t remember.” Roihan clenched his fists again, wishing he had an Ardak in front of him to vent his rage.
“Calm down, Ronnie. We don’t want to scare the women and children. They’re already afraid of us enough as it is.”
“Why does everyone keep calling me that?”
“Ronnie? It was your name. Well, your nickname, I guess.” He paused. “But as far as getting your memory back, there might be a way. The elves supposedly have a magic room that restores memories. My brother, Simban, was going to the palace with them to try to fix his chip, as well.”
He took a guess. “He’s your brother?”
Valdjan grimaced. “I see you’ve met him.”
“He was battling the cats like no one I’d seen, even with his broken chip.”
“Yep. That was my brother. Everyone in my family was a fighter—except me. I was the lover.” Valdjan smiled wryly.
“What?”
“Never mind.”
Roihan let it drop, wanting more than ever to go back to the base and look for Aria. He let his gaze linger on the dark tunnel behind them, and Valdjan gripped his shoulder, shaking his head slowly.
“She isn’t there,” Valdjan said. “The only thing that place holds is the ghosts of the murdered. Why don’t you come with us to the elven palace? At least you can regain your memories, and we can ask the others if they know what happened to her.”
Roihan slowly turned toward the tunnel that would lead them toward the palace, considering his limited options.
Why do I feel like I’m deserting her?
Suddenly, with a great heave, the ground above them rocked and then shuddered and trembled. Dirt and rocks fell from the ceiling of the tunnel, and they all began to run. Women and children screamed, dodging the crumbling debris as best as they could.
“What the hell is that?” Roihan shouted, picking up two of the lagging children as they sprinted toward the end of the tunnel to Renwyn.
“I have no idea.” Valdjan ran next to him with two others, trying to keep his balance on the shaking earth.
They made it a few more steps before the tunnel began to cave in and dirt filled their lungs.
“Stop!” he shouted.
He pulled Valdjan out backward just in time to see enormous rocks give way and fall from the ceiling. Screams came from the other side and were abruptly cut off by the roar of rocks as they tumbled to the floor of the tunnel.
“Fuck!” There was a child and a woman half-buried, and he set the children behind him before digging toward the center of the cave-in. Valdjan joined him, pulling them out as quickly as they could. The woman had fallen backward and suffered only a broken leg, but the child she had carried wasn’t so lucky. She began to scream, rocking the still form, and Valdjan grimaced, tugging her against him for a momentary hug.
He envied Valdjan his memories. It made him seem more . . . normal.
But, deep inside, her screams tugged at him, and it made him want to release some screams of his own.
After a moment, Valdjan turned to him. “We need to get the fuck out of here.”
“Agreed.” Roihan began digging toward the surface, moving boulders out of the way. The woman continued to cry, and a few of the other women and children joined her.
Their grief made it harder to focus on the digging, but with Valdjan beside him, they broke through in minutes.
They helped the children, lifting them to the surface. When everyone was aboveground, Roihan climbed out. The castle of Renwyn was about a half league away, which meant the tunnel probably would have brought them right up to the front gates had it not caved in.
A shout had him glancing back to where more elves and cyborgs were breaking through from the other side of the cave-in. Roihan began to pull survivors from the opening they had created. They had over half of them up when another round of shouting started.
To his horror, the sky above them had begun to turn red as blood. His eyes followed the plumes to see that not far from the cave-in was a huge metal cube, sending the plumes of red into the sky.
“What is it?” an elven warrior asked them.
“Hell if I know, but we need to stop it,” Roihan answered.
“Agreed.” The reply came from beside him, and he turned to see Aefin running toward it with a group of elven warriors.
“We should go with them.” Valdjan pulled up another woman. “The survivors here can finish helping each other.”
Roihan turned back to the women. “Head for that castle as quickly as you can. Take the children and leave anything extra behind. We can come back for it later.”
They nodded, and then he and Valdjan unsheathed their swords and sprinted toward the metal box, along with several other Cyborgs and straggling elves.
“The red stuff tastes like bitter dirt,” one of the cyborgs said as they approached. The air was thick with it, like smoke.
“Cover your mouths and noses,” Roihan ordered the cyborgs.
Aefin and the elves were already doing so, and the others tore their sleeves or used whatever they had available to do the same. One elven warrior climbed to the top, searching for a way to close it, to stop the horrible red stuff.
The red dirt made them choke and cough.
While the others searched for external means to stop it, Roihan searched the cube itself. The intricate engineering and the metal that seemed to suck in all the light could only have been made by the Ardaks. He had been trained to fix their machinery in the mines, but this was foreign to him. He had never seen anything like this before. However, it seemed exceedingly simple and looked mechanical rather than electrical, which probably meant there was no fail-safe, no way to power the box down.
He climbed on top of it, and the force of the red stuff coming from it was so great that the entire box vibrated beneath him. The flow was taller and broader than a male. It seemed unstoppable.
The elven warrior who had been the first to climb on top stumbled, catching Roihan’s attention a moment before he collapsed and fell to the ground below.
One of the elven women ran to him to check his pulse. After a few seconds, she looked up, her face ashen. “He’s dead.”
Roihan jumped down to find the other elves were beginning to turn pale, and the cyborgs were starting to cough. “Get away from the cube,” he ordered, and everyone reluctantly obeyed, stepping back from it.
“We can’t just leave,” Aefin argued.
“We don’t know how to close it, and if that stuff is a poison, then we aren’t doing anything but killing ourselves faster.” Roihan clenched his fists.
Those fucking Ardaks. I am going to kill every last one of those sons of bitches.
“Help us, please,” the elven woman asked, tears streaming down her face as she motioned to the fallen elf, and a few others who were swaying and stumbling as they tried to escape. “We need to get these men to the palac
e where they can be healed.”
He glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the Ardak base. It was so distant that he couldn’t even see the top over the mountains between them.
Roihan turned to the other cyborgs, who shrugged. “All right, everyone help someone. Let’s all get to the castle.”
Roihan bent and grabbed two of the men who had passed out, throwing one over each shoulder. Valdjan, Aefin, and several other warriors and cyborgs did the same. They all began to run, stumbling through the hazy red air toward the white palace that shone through the trees in the distance.
Aefin ran beside him, an elf over his shoulder. “Do you think it can be stopped?”
Roihan shook his head. “I don’t know. My best guess is that it had something on the bottom that pressed in when it landed, starting the process. If we could tip it over, perhaps . . .”
Aefin’s lips pressed together. “That cube seemed almost impossibly heavy. I don’t know how many warriors that would take. Or how much magic . . .”
Roihan wanted to go faster. The sooner he could get them all to Renwyn, the safer they would be.
The trees around them grew dense, and soon, the canopy was so thick it almost completely blocked the sun. Plants and shrubs with giant leaves and flowers he had never seen were stunning, and the enormity of the trunks spoke of the great age of the forest.
They began to catch up with the slower women and children, who had started for the castle. What they really needed were horses. Or carts. But they didn’t have any, so Roihan and the others slowed their pace, helping others when they needed to.
When they broke through the trees, Roihan looked up for a few moments, taking in a breath at the new splendor before him. The palace sat on the side of a hill, enmeshed in the great trees that had been incorporated into its structure.
“I wish we had the shield still up,” Aefin said as they hurried up the wide stone steps. “I don’t know how much it would have protected us from the red poison, but it would have been better than nothing.”
Roihan Page 2