by Chris Harris
Cinradahs's com rang, but Saiun picked up. He listened to the message, before relaying back to Cinradahs:
“It's over. Xaos has fled, his flagships are ours, and his allies have either fled or been destroyed. We have won!”
Chapter 35
Ilisa 4
Ilisa was nearly bent double, having been carrying Strom over her shoulder for nearly an hour whilst following the near-silent Ha'kuun. The Orban walked with long strides, as befitted its much longer limbs, meaning Ilisa could barely keep up. She'd asked him to slow down twice, but he simply ignored her, or simply didn't hear her.
As she walked through the endless cave, the damp and dripping walls began to be replaced with walls covered in wires, some hanging loose, some buried inside the stone. She wasn't sure if the constant drip-drip-drip was more or less annoying than its whirring replacement. Her feet ached in her military-grade boots, and her knees and spine threatened to buckle under Strom's weight. Her arm wobbled as she held onto him, and she could feel beads of sweat running down her forehead and back, but she persevered; he was all she had left. She hadn't even noticed the darkness until her mind drifted to her nightmares, where she was alone, with no-one around to comfort her. It was the same in the ancient Orban caves, or, at least, she assumed that Ha'kuun wouldn't comfort her.
“How much further?” Her voice was strained and quiet.
Ha'kuun turned to her and stared, mouth not moving, as he answered. “Not far now.” He seemed to notice her struggle. “Let us help.”
He raised an arm and opened his hand, spreading its fingers wide. Ilisa felt Strom move, before he was lifted away from her. She opened her mouth to object, and outstretched her hand to try and grab him, but Strom simply floated in front of her. She looked in shock at Ha'kuun. “How are you doing that?”
“We could just as easily ask “how can you not?”.” Ha'kuun moved his hand, moving Strom through the air as he did so. “Now hurry up; we don't know how long he has.”
Ilisa composed herself, and hurried along after the fast-striding Orban.
The tunnels seemed to go on for miles, but she doubted that they actually did. The wires became more present the further she walked, until it seemed that the walls were more wire than stone. Ha'kuun followed them round, occasionally stroking one as he went by, as if he thought he could coerce the wires to tell him the way, although Ilisa assumed that he already knew. She hoped he already knew.
Strom hovered in front of Ha'kuun still, and Ilisa was surprised at how well she was taking this; theoretically, she should be freaking out right now, rather than just being slightly worried that the Orban might drop him. Evidently, she had more tolerance than she'd first thought. Or maybe, there was just not much left that would surprise her; the fact the Orbans were still alive was a pretty big one.
“So, how are you guys still alive?” She asked. “Your world is pretty dead.”
“As we said,” Ha'kuun spoke stiffly, “the Adjeti back-up project saved our lives. An underground bunker, with the ability to transfer minds between an original body and a clone. We were the first experiments, ready to have our minds transferred when the World-Burner shut off the power and destroyed our world. Our minds remained in the computer data-banks for hundreds of years as our original bodies died.” He then looked directly at her. “But then you crashed here, and you must have knocked something into place, because it suddenly started to work.”
Ilisa nodded. “Wow. Even after centuries, this tech still works?”
Ha'kuun nodded, not wishing to discuss this further. Ilisa cursed beneath her breath; Ha'kuun's on/off moods were beginning to piss her off. She could bear it for now, she told herself, at least until Strom was sorted.
They rounded the corner, and their destination was revealed; a gaping cave, with machinary embedded into the cave walls. Numerous computer panels and screens lined the walls with three pairs of cylinders. The cylinders were filled with a pale blue liquid and each pair was linked together by an array of cables. Out of the three pairs, two were in use; Orbans were still inside them, a dead body in one, the clone in another, while the cables hissed and glowed; the transferring of the mind was happening now.
Ha'kuun dropped Strom on the floor, and the thud of him hitting the floor sounded painful. Just as she was about to yell at the Orban, she remembered that Strom probably couldn't feel pain anymore, and that his body wouldn't be his for much longer. Ha'kuun was fiddling with various dials and buttons. Personally, Ilisa didn't know why he didn't just use his telekinesis to do it, but she didn't know how it works. Maybe she'd ask one of the other Orbans, they couldn't be much less bearable than Ha'kuun.
He stopped his fiddling and walked over to the empty pair of cylinders. “Put him in.” Ha'kuun commanded, opening one of them. Ilisa wanted to tut at him; Strom was bloody heavy, and Ha'kuun had fancy mind powers. “Take his clothes off. They could interfere with the cloning process.”
While Ilisa found this unlikely, due to cloning just being about DNA, she did so anyway; she wasn't certain if the cloning was here used accelerated versions of what scientists theorised on Irin. She picked him up, and carefully placed him in the tube. “Hold him.” Ha'kuun demanded, before strapping him into the machines, keeping him standing up straight. He then attached nodules to Strom head, closed the door, and flicked a switch. The liquid inside the cylinders began to bubble and fizz as something began to grow in the empty cylinder in the pair.
Ilisa felt her stomach knot; she really hoped that this would work.
Chapter 36
Trexor 6
The military base had somehow survived the quake, and Admiral Fairns had taken control of the recovery mission, from what Trexor had heard. Whether it was true or not, he had no idea; facts and rumours are distorted all the time. Which is why he had told no-one about the creatures in the chasm yet; he and Trem held a silent agreement on that fact.
They had been walking around for hours, and digging for about half as long. No more survivors, only hundreds of corpses. Strangely, Trexor found that it didn't bother him as much now; he must have became accustomed with the broken bodies. It was only the smaller, younger corpses which touched his heart. However, he was content in the fact that he hadn't seen another one of the silver creatures. While they didn't attack him, he couldn't be certain that they weren't aggressive. The optimist inside him told him that they weren't dangerous. But the general inside him told him to be cautious and, in these times, the general had to be prevalent.
“Where are we?” Trem asked, evidently not recognising the landscape.
Trexor didn't recognise it either; the destruction was too much. “I...I don't know.”
A brick tumbled from the remains of a building. Caught off guard by the sound, Trexor's hand found itself on his gun before he knew it. Noting that there was nothing but gravity at work, he relaxed, slowly and cautiously moving his hand away from his gun.
Trem sighed deeply. “We're all a bit paranoid today, it's fine.”
“It's not fine.” Trexor spat. “I'm meant to be a damned General, not an amateur troop with anxiety issues.”
Trem considered this briefly, before staying silent.
Together, they walked over to where the brick fell; they knew that the silver creatures probably weren't there, but there could be someone buried in the rubble. Trexor began to shift the rubble, the newly-formed blisters on his fingers burning as he did so. Trem joined in, never ceasing; his gloves helped protect his hands. Personally, Trexor tried to keep his expression blank, but he could see the strained features on Trem's face as he hoped for a sign of life.
The recoil.
Pale skin.
Twisted body.
Dead eyes.
Trexor buried the corpse over again, putting a hand on Trem's shoulder, and led him away from the rubble; they had genuinely thought that someone was alive. They walked slowly away, still in silence. Trem sniffed, and Trexor realised that he was quietly crying. He wiped his eyes and sniffed
again, before stopping. Trexor tried to look away, realising that Trem would probably appreciate his privacy.
Trexor looked around, and a shiver went down his spine.
Molten silver shifted around a brown, stony body as one of the creatures, larger than before, prowled around the wreckage. Trem put an arm out, stopping Trexor from going any further.
“Let's go.” Trem whispered. “No need to go any further, we can't fight them.”
“I need to see what it is.” Trexor sighed. “As my duty as a general, I need to find out.”
He walked carefully over, tiptoeing around the wreckage to make no noise. Crouching down, he moved slowly forward, Trem following much more gracefully behind. The creature hadn't seemed to notice, and was still looking away. Continuing on his path, Trexor's heartbeat sped up as he got closer.
He stubbed his toe on a brick. It rolled down, clinking as it did so. Trexor swore under his breath as the creature looked around. Trem dragged Trexor to the floor. “Down.” He hissed.
The creature's gaze rested on them, and it slowly crept over. Trexor noted its own cautiousness, which seemed to match his own. Its head split open and a scraping shriek escaped from its throat. Trexor flinched back, noticing that Trem did the same.
“It sounds angry.” Trexor backed away along the floor.
“Well, we disturbed it, what did you expect?” Trem followed the backing away, shifting back on his elbows.
“I don't know, don't know what the thing is.”
Suddenly, the creature was looming over them. Trexor panicked, struggling to get to his feet and falling again. Trem got up quickly, pushing himself up off the ground and drawing a knife, holding it out in front of him, presenting it to the creature as a threat. “Stay back!” Trem crept backwards, offering a hand to Trexor, who took it and pulled himself up. Trexor put a hand on his gun, ready to draw and shoot if the creature took another step towards them.
The creature crouched down, before pouncing. Trem moved out of the way in time, but Trexor was pinned down by the creature. Trexor drew his gun and fired, but the creature absorbed it into itself. Trem stabbed his knife into the creature. It ignored it, batting Trem away with seemingly no effort. Trexor moved his head just in time to avoid a claw to the face. The creature roared in his face, before fleeing.
Trexor and Trem picked themselves up and brushed themselves off, watching the silver creature disappear into the distance.
“Where's it going?” Trem asked.
“No idea.” Trexor replied.
They stood on the spot, reflecting on what just happened.
Chapter 37
Ash 3
The nights were dark, and no stars could be seen. No light could be seen after Carnat turned the lights off. Ash lay awake every night, not trusting the darkness, perhaps even fearing it. Sometimes he closed his eyes and watched the dreams unfold before him, but he could not relax at night. He slept in the evenings or mornings, requesting Carnat to look over him, which he agreed to do. Ash wasn't sure why he was afraid of the dark, but he assumed it stayed with him from what he referred to as his “past-life”.
Hearing Carnat moving, Ash nudged him. “Carnat.”
“What?” Carnat slurred, still half-asleep. “Ash?”
“Why are people afraid of the dark?” Ash stammered.
“Well...” Carnat sighed. “From what I understand, you're no technically afraid of the dark, you're afraid of whatever you associate with darkness.”
Ash shrugged. “I don't know what I associate with darkness; I think it was from...before.”
Carnat tutted. “I'd hoped you'd remembered something by now; after all this build-up, the truth's bound to be disappointing.”
Ash chuckled. “You're probably right. Well, disappointing for you. I don't really see my life being that eventful.”
“Until you wound up on Rat'hak without any memory.” Carnat's sarcasm dripped through his voice. “And however you ended up here. And whatever you fear in the dark.”
“Yeah, fair enough.” Ash nodded in agreement.
“Any ideas?” Carnat asked.
It took Ash a moment to realise that Carnat was asking about his fear. “I think it was the last thing I saw before my memories were lost. There are faceless men in my dreams, surrounded by darkness.”
“Are you afraid of them?” Carnat sounded uncertain. “Or of the fact that you came here in darkness?”
Ash considered it. “Probably both.”
Carnat nodded. “Yep, that's about right. Anyway, enough of that crap, I'm hungry.”
As Carnat said that, Ash's stomach rumbled. “Breakfast sounds good.”
There was already a plate of generic food cubes in front of the door, which cheered Ash up; usually, they'd have to ask and barter with the guards. “You know, you can fault this place all you like, but at least we get three meals a day.” Ash observed, taking a cube.
“Shit meals.”
“Even so, they're better than nothing.”
“Yeah, probably.”
Ash popped the cube into his mouth, chewing the soft and slightly moist lump. Painstakingly, he swallowed with a gulp. “Ugh, everytime they are worse than I remember.”
Carnat agreed. “See? Shit meals.”
Ash gave a sharp laugh. “Yeah, they are.”
Silence as they ate. Carnat ate quickly to get the taste over and done with, but Ash ate slowly, not wanting to carry on tasting them.
When the plate was empty, Ash belched and asked Carnat a question. “We got any more fights soon?”
“Yeah, tomorrow, I think.” Carnat smiled. “Try not to miss your shot this time.”
“I'll try.” Ash hung his head. “I'm sorry.”
“It's fine buddy, don't worry about it.” Carnat put a hand on Ash's shoulder.
“No, it's not.” Ash shook his head. “I could've gotten both of us killed.”
Carnat pulled Ash into a hug. “You could have. But you didn't; you got a second chance. Make it count tomorrow.”
“I'll try.”
“No.” Carnat broke away and stared him in the eye. “You will. You won't just try; I believe in you. You just need to believe in yourself.” Carnat moved back. “Yuck, that was cringey.”
Ash laughed. “Yeah, it kinda was.” His tone turned more serious. “But thanks. I won't let you down again.”
“No. You won't.”
Chapter 38
Foton 5
“Lyss Fown” entered Irin after a long, albeit uneventful flight. As soon as he stopped off the ship, he put the hood of his brown jacket over his head; he didn't want to be recognised. He figured that it was unlikely that he would be, he could never be too careful. Hands in pockets, head down, Foton walked out of the spaceport. He'd always had a love/hate relationship with spaceports; he loved the variety of races and their ships, but he hated the crowds. Although he could blend in with the crowd, Foton tended to prefer people separated more sparsely; less chance of recognition.
Reaching into his pockets, he found the small silver cube that the Blind Assassin had given to him. On the flight, he had tried to open it, but it was a sealed unit; the only way to open it would be break it apart. While he was tempted to break it apart, he realised that he might break the electronics within, which would mess up his mission and probably see him killed.
In his other pocket, was a small ID badge with his target's name and picture on. No address, which annoyed Foton. Apparently, his target was Professor Tujin Diank, a balding middle-aged Irinian. Foton didn't know what he had done to whoever wanted him dead; he rarely knew. Sometimes, the Assassins were hired by government agencies or Enforcers to catch and kill criminals that had eluded them; the Assassins could do things that they could not. Mostly, however, they were hired by private parties to do their dirty work. Occasionally it was satisfying work, but Foton figured that this one wouldn't be.
He looked around for a bit, observing the shining architecture; buildings were fluid and asymmetrical, and
left Foton in awe of the amount of detail and planning which went into them. The dome which surrounded the city could only be seen if you were trying to see it, and even then you only noticed a slight discretion in the way that the light passed through. Apparently, the beautiful architecture was even better in the capital city, but Foton was glad he wasn't there; too many people and government officials that might recognise him. Luckily, the Assassins had given him a ticket to the right city, which he was thankful for; transport between the domed cities was a pain in the arse.
After asking around the city, Foton was able to find out where he lived; right in the centre of the city. Wanting to get this over with, he called a taxi, which ferried him over. When he arrived, he circled the house, observing it from different angles. Compared to most buildings, this was rather simple; standard cube ground-floor, and a seperate cube for the top floor. However, the top floor was turned 45 degrees on it Z-axis, giving the impression that the architecture had been twisted in a giant's hand.
Leaping in to its back-garden, Foton landed without a sound. That was a technique many Assassins learn; distribute your weight fully, change your centre of gravity, and you will make no sound on the ground. Taking out a small computer-chip, he held it to a panel on the door. In an instant, the chip replicated the necessary data required to enter the house. As the door slid open, Foton crept inside. Sensing movement, the motion-sensitive lights came on, illuminating the room. There was nothing of interest to Foton in the hallway, nor in the kitchen. The living room was empty too, aside from two sofas and a large screen which took up half of a wall. Nodding in approval, Foton crept upstairs. Poking around in the rooms, he realised, as he had suspected, that there was no-one home. He found the room which appeared to be Tujin's study. Rifling through the blueprints and documents on his desk, Foton soon found a printed email from the laboratory where Tujin worked. Most importantly, it had the lab's address on; not far from his house.