by J R Devoe
From the darkness ahead, a mint green glow gives shape to Deka’s silhouette. When my arm comes into view before me, I release our hold.
Hushed talking grows louder the deeper we travel. Like the green light, it comes from a gateway that opens up to a great cavern.
Deka guides me to an alcove and motions for me to sit. “I need to get you a disguise,” he says. “Wait here.”
I crouch and hug my knees to my chest. As he proceeds through the gateway, I study the stone pillars to either side, which support a crown of flames that looms fifteen feet over me. Each column bears the carving of a sky serpent spiralling up the polished stone.
These statues stir memories of similar creatures I’ve seen on other planets. Those abominations have a tendency of accidentally jumping between dimensions and causing all sorts of havoc on unsuspecting worlds. In one case, it took the Watchers nearly two turns of that planet’s moon to clear out a nest of them hidden deep inside a volcano. It was Jexa’s first campaign as Marshal. Some said she even managed to tame one, which she kept as a pet.
Despite the clear differences noted between the beasts I’ve seen, Elders claim they all came from the same place at some point near the beginning of time. Eventually they started having these mishaps of crossing dimensions. They spread out across the Universe, each evolving to adapt to various and ever changing planetary conditions.
Perhaps that’s what happened on this planet, to Deka’s ancestors: wiped out by an invasion of fire-breathing sky serpents.
Sweat beads my brow at the thought, but the source of the mint green light suddenly steals my attention. I leave my alcove and step into the archway, where I look up to see a glass lantern full of liquid bioluminescence.
Mindless beasts, Ko Mirah had called them. Yeah right! Would you call harnessing sea sparkle for underground lights the work of clueless animals? Though this on its own is no particular feat, getting it to stay glowing is a true wonder. I’ve only seen these organisms flash for a second or two at a time.
This innovation holds my attention only briefly, however. Beyond the doorway, the cavern opens up into a massive downward pit, the outer edge of which houses levels of dwellings and diagonal stairways connecting them, all illuminated by a faint green glow. For a while, all I can do is stare in amazement at the beauty of this subterranean sanctuary. It also gives me hope that other extinct races have survived on the planets we’ve left behind. They may have even made peace with their new co-habitants.
“Demon!” cries a voice from within the cavern.
A steel mechanism clicks above and triggers the downward release of the gate. I spring back just in time to avoid getting crushed.
The lantern hangs on the inside of the door, so I’m suddenly left in darkness.
NO! The walls are closing in on me, going to crush me, so I swing through the dark to keep them away. My wits abandon me and I unleash a guttural scream.
Footsteps rush toward me in the dark. Green light grows brighter from a side tunnel, pushing shadows into nooks and cracks in the stone wall. Deka arrives carrying a glowing glass jar.
I rush to meet him and grab the lantern. It’s cool in my hands and helps me breathe easier. Soon I’m back to normal.
“Where did you get this?” I say, fearing its glow will die out any second like the flash of sea plankton.
“It’s bacteria from an octopus.”
“Octo-what?”
“Creatures of the sea.”
I hug the bioluminescent lantern close to my chest. The flicker of an idea flashes in my mind.
“What do you call your people?” I ask. The information I’d received when arriving on this planet is limited to what pertains to my purpose here, and, seeing as my job was to erase any signs of their existence, even their species name was to die out.
“There were many names,” Deka says while stroking his chin, “but my mother’s books call us homo sapiens.”
“Sapiens,” I repeat, admiring the way the word rolls from my tongue. “Who is your mother’s books?”
The faintest hint of a smile tugs at Deka’s mouth. “Not who. It’s what. Here, put this on and follow me.”
He hands me a large piece of woven fabric and shows me how to wear it so it covers my head and torso. Then he leads me down a side passage that circumvents the main gate. We emerge into the open cavern and take a stone stairway down to the second level that circles the edge of the pit. Rectangular holes darken the wall all around this concourse.
“There’re two guards watching the other entrance,” Deka says. “We have to wait until they’re stood down or called away.”
“Someone saw me,” I say, recalling how the gate almost crushed me.
“And I told them you chased some children down the east passage. Come, in here.”
Deka ushers me through a rectangular doorway in the outer wall.
Green lantern light radiates from my hands to paint the walls and illuminate crafted objects that somehow serve this dwelling.
Inside the entryway, Deka picks up a rectangular block from a stack of similar pieces. It groans as he hinges it open in half to reveal its girth is made up of hundreds of thinner rectangular sheets, all stacked together. As he flips through them, I see each contains a unique set of scripture and illustrations.
I gasp in wonder. What a way to pass down knowledge! It’s so much more efficient than constructing massive monuments or megalithic sites, and more reliable than spoken word.
I set the lantern down and pick up the next book in the pile. I sit cross-legged and flip through its sheets, admiring the drawings. Such craftsmanship! What’s more, I come across a photo of a seafaring vessel with swaths of fabric that harness the wind, similar to how the Aeri use their wings to glide effortlessly over long distances.
The idea that had flashed in my mind moments ago does so again, this time clearer. Much, much clearer.
“You were travelers before we arrived?” I say.
“We were many things not so long ago,” he says solemnly, rubbing the book cover in his hands. “My people came from the south. Harsh conditions drew everyone away from the Equator in search of food and water. We were preparing to cross the sea when the demons—I mean, your people, arrived. Suddenly we became the hunted. We’ve been stuck here ever since.”
I close the book. “Those who hunt you think you’re mindless animals.” I trace the words on the cover with my finger. “This proves you’re not,” I say with hope, but I bite my lip as doubt drops in to squash my optimism. This collection of writings could easily be dismissed as remnants of a civilization past. I need something more tangible. Something living and breathing. A being that speaks and can explain how they survived so long. “It could work,” I muse, trying to work out the details in my mind.
“What are you thinking?” Deka says, hope clashing with caution in his eyes. No one could deny that fire. Not even Ko Mirah. These people have life-sparks of their own.
“The Magister is coming to this planet at the next New Moon,” I say.
“Who?”
“The Magister. You know, the Emissary of Light and Life? The divine representative within the physical realms? The Gate Master a.k.a the Master of Cycles? Any of these ringing any bells? Hello?! There must be something about him in your books.”
Deka’s confused expression suggests otherwise.
I shake off my disbelief. “Well, if he heard you speak, he’ll order that we stop our work here and move us on to the next planet.”
Deka sits up straight, almost eager. “You’re saying I must travel to meet him?”
I smile and nod. “In doing so, you’ll act as an emissary for your people.”
His head drops and his shoulders slump. “They’ll never allow it.”
“Are you their servant?”
He frowns. “It’s not like that. We are a family. I can’t just leave them without permission. Besides, we don’t have enough fresh water for me to go wandering the desert.”
“It
’s only desert for a little way. The forest edge is only half a day’s flight.”
Deka perks up. “Forest?”
“Sure. There’s plenty of fresh water there.”
“And food?”
“Of course! All kinds of nuts and berries.”
“Do you know which are poisonous?”
I frown at this question.
Seeing my confusion, Deka pats his belly. “The wrong plant may kill me. Have you never gotten sick after eating something?”
I shake my head. “I don’t eat. We get our energy from the Sun.”
Plenty of Fori and Ori indulge on berries because they like the taste, with some even fermenting them to drink during celebrations. But they don’t need to eat to survive. It’s what they do for fun. Plus, they created that ecosystem, so they’d know what's harmful to them. Deka, on the other hand...
That forest was designed to host the incoming race. Their biological makeup determines the profile of all the resources the Ori and Fori have created. There’s no telling what an edible plant for them may do to a creature outside those specifications. This is a problem.
“Must you eat often?” I say.
Deka ignores me as he uses a stick to scribble something in his book. He flips back through the sheets, scanning rows of written words. “Energy from the Sun,” he says, more to himself than to me. “That’s why the demons only travel during the day and near full moon.” His eyes open wide with a realization. “The moon reflects the Sun’s rays.”
“Right!” I say, my hope for this race rising. They are far wiser than Ko Mirah gave them credit for.
But a sinking feeling rocks my gut. How many races like this have we swept from their homes? Conquered and driven into extinction to make room for the next?
I swat the horrible images from my mind before they can form fully. I didn’t know what we were up to then, but now I do. We can do this if we work together. It’s never too late to do the right thing. That’s what the Watchers told those who helped my mother’s rebellion.
Deka’s frantic flipping of his pages expels a loose sheet. The sketched image of Jexa sucks the breath right out of me, and I find myself backing away until I hit a wall. I’ve only ever seen her once, from a distance, so over the years she has been little more than a threatening name to me.
Deka takes great interest in my reaction. He picks up the drawing. “You know this creature?”
I nod, feeling my throat for the invisible hand choking me. “That’s Jexa, the Marshal of Watchers. She’s been here before?”
“She killed my mother.”
My jaw drops. Something we have in common. “She killed mine, too.”
Deka’s eyes flash open wide, and if I didn’t know better, I see the corner of his mouth twitch with a relieved smile. “You can lead me to her?”
“You want revenge,” I say. This feeling has been growing in me lately, too. “Well, if we shine a light onto her ways, the Magister will save us the trouble. See, we’re not even allowed to be here. Those who hunt you are actually supposed to mind the work that my folk do. They’re to maintain order and keep us safe from predators, but we’re breaking the Magister’s rules by pushing you out. He won’t stand for it.”
Deka stares longingly at the drawing. “Then I will do what I must to go with you.”
“So your problem is food,” I say.
“Maybe not.” He closes his book and jumps to his feet. “Follow me.”
We exit the dwelling and return to the second level concourse, where Deka motions for me to step to the edge. Below, a brook trickles across the bottom level in the faint green light. I crouch for a closer look, my toes curling around the lip. Many of Deka’s folk are still carrying their belongings to the lower levels to settle in for an indeterminate amount of time.
Deka points over my shoulder, to a metal drum at the waterway’s entrance. “Back when the river flowed strong, that turbine powered our artificial lighting system,” he explains. “The dry rock bed was once a flourishing valley where we grew plants so high they touched the ceiling. We feasted on corn and potatoes, fed chickens from grain which gave us eggs in return. But we’ve not had a drop of rain in five years. Now we can barely scoop enough to quench our thirst. Our days here are numbered.”
Even without the drought he’d be right. With the expanding forest edge, it’s only a matter of time before the Ori discover this sanctuary. This realization relieves a bit of my guilt. Better that I came across these sapiens when I did than to have the Ori report them directly to the Watchers.
“My mother had a plan to extend our time here,” Deka says, “by harvesting food from the sea. She ordered we make boats and set out with nets and lines. My father volunteered to go first. Everyone thought he was crazy until he returned with a boat full of fish—every kind of sea creature you could think of to kill our hunger. We were saved.”
My belly roils at the idea of having to eat other living things to survive. But I keep my disgust to myself. There is much about their existence I do not understand, and I can’t have Deka doubting his means of survival should he undertake my proposed endeavor.
“We feasted for many turns of the moon,” he says, his voice growing heavy, “until people started getting sick.”
“Why?”
“Pollutants. Mercury. Who knows? Your people killed my mother before she could investigate the sickness more.”
I reach out to touch his arm, but he waves me away. He composes himself remarkably fast.
“G-Ma, our elder, forbids us from using the boats or fishing gear,” he says, “but we still have them stored away. If I travel some of the distance by sea, I can survive long enough off of fish without having to raid our colony’s stores. But I’ll have nowhere to hide during the day. Even if the tides and the weather permit me to come ashore safely, I may not find anywhere to conceal me and my boat.”
I’m tempted to offer myself up as a guide, but Jaleera has this talent for finding me. Even now, as Jexa’s right hand, she’s no doubt already sniffing out my trail. Deka wouldn’t get far in the open with me nearby. Even without me around, so long as the Watchers roam the sky…
Wait, of course! That might be an option. “Can you sail in the rain?”
Deka shrugs. “It poured down during my first voyage. Others say it’s dangerous, but I found it refreshing.”
I clap excitedly. “Good. Now, all you have to do is sail to the forest edge.” Deka will be easier to hide in the forest. That’s our domain.
“How do I find it?” he says.
“Can’t you smell it?”
Deka sniffs, then shrugs.
I’d not considered he wouldn’t be able to sense the forest. I always smell which direction it’s in, like fresh rain from an approaching storm.
“There must be some way for me to show you where to meet,” I say, frustration creeping in over my excitement.
Deka raises a hand, as if telling me to hang onto my thought. He hurries to his dwelling and returns with a square chart, which he spreads across the floor.
“A map,” he says, tracing a squiggly line with his finger. “This is the coast. Which way do I have to go?”
It takes me a few seconds to orient myself to the drawing. When I do, I use the pyramids as a reference point and trace my finger west, while he indicates our current location on the northern edge of the continent. I tap an inlet near where I think the forest edge should be. “We’ll meet here. Can you make it that far on your own?”
He hugs himself, a wary expression plaguing his face. “It’s a lot farther than any of our fishing crews ever traveled. Though, I guess they never had much reason for venturing so far.” He nods. “I think I can do it.”
“How long?”
“Five days,” he says, but his tone sounds more like a question than an answer. He has no idea.
“I’ll give you seven without any Watchers. Make sure you reach the forest before the eighth morning.”
Above us, atop the stairs o
ver Deka’s dwelling, the large gate creaks open. A warrior enters and shouts down into the pit: “All clear!”
The downward movement of sapiens halts and reverses back toward the upper levels. This exercise seems well-rehearsed. If they survived this many Watcher encounters, then I may have enough time to save them.
Deka grabs my arm and leads me around the concourse and into a tunnel. As we slink deeper into darkness, a salty breeze blows stronger on my face. When faint daylight comes into view, Deka stops.
“This is the Fisherman’s Gate,” he explains. “It’ll bring you out onto the beach.”
I nod my appreciation. “Hit the sea as soon as you see my signal,” I tell him.
“What will I be looking for?”
“You’ll know it when you see it,” I say, keeping the surprise to myself. I love a good surprise.
I turn to leave.
“What is your name?” he says.
I stop. A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. He sees me as more than a demon. “They call me ‘Nya’.”
He grabs my hand and squeezes it while giving it a shake. I don’t resist, but watch this custom curiously. When an appropriate amount of time passes, he releases me.
“I’ll wait at the forest edge in case you arrive early,” I say. “From there, you’ll be safe with me watching over you.”
“Okay,” Deka says. “I’ll do as you say and await your signal.”
I race to the cave entrance and hope those aren’t the last words I ever hear from him.
9
—
NYA
KEEPING DEKA ALIVE long enough to reach the Magister will be the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but the reward will be worth it. If the Magister is pleased by my efforts, he’ll award me the Magister’s Mark. It’s a rune over the third eye that allows its bearer to navigate the gateways to any world. I’ll be able to use it to find my home planet without the Councilry’s help or the Watchers’ approval.
My heart flutters at the prospect. But this is a perilous task, to say the least.