Origin Equation
Page 7
Da’Mira drew another breath, this time to reply and said something barely audible.
“What did you say Milady?”
“I think we should wait a little longer,” Da’Mira said louder.
Colin wanted to say, ‘wait for what?’ There was nothing to wait for. Nothing to save. Any attempt to return to COSMOS could cause their own deaths. The prudent thing was to go back to the Origin chamber and tell everyone what happened. It was time to... Colin’s thoughts froze. His heart skipped a beat and he shifted his feet into a fighting stance. Something is coming.
A shadow came forth and darkened the entryway to the COSMOS chamber. A silky onyx shroud draped the floor like a black curtain. The dark form folded and bent and transformed, taking shape. Becoming, and took form.
“Jonna,” Da’Mira said and stumbled forward.
Colin cupped his hand on Da’Mira’s arm to stop her.
Jonna Grace looked different. Dressed in a flowing shroud that spilled on to the floor as if an extension of her body. The effervescent veil moved and contorted upon the floor, slithering in her wake like a living thing.
Wise and stoic. Her eyes were dark, her brow regal, she stood before Da’Mira and Colin, lifting the palm of her hand out in front of her.
When she spoke, her voice resonated and echoed as if she was speaking from a deep cavern. “The balance has been restored – the circle closed,” Jonna said. “The whirly gig of time has come full circle. What was, is now, and what is now, will soon be.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Hold, Colin McGregor. Now is not the time for questions, all will soon be revealed, but now is the time to flee. We must return to the surface. Those in the Origin chamber must be warned or, they will all... die.”
The Lifeless World of Argoron
A Planet in the Milvon system.
October 10, 2442 – Earth Time
My Own never realized there could be another world as barren as the Earth. When the Xavier exploration ship, Seeker approached the planet Argoron she discovered there were places in the galaxy even more devastated.
The lifeless rock suspended in the black of space was spotlighted by its nearby star. It highlighted the myriad of browns, grays and blacks – layered atop one another. There were no signs of vegetation, or water anywhere. The planet reminded My Own of dried clay, it seemed reasonable that nothing could live on it, yet Uklavar came here for a reason.
When the horned beast prepared to go down to the planet it came as no surprise that he commanded her to accompany him. Suspicious, My Own had no other choice, but there was an air of apprehension she couldn’t dismiss. Did he need her on the planet for a reason? She refused to allow wild speculation to control her. There was no way she could refuse and even if she could her curiosity got the better of her.
Besides, she thought, why would he bring me all this way to kill me? It makes no sense. If it was her fate, she could not run from it, nor would she want to. She was a Highlander, and clansmen didn’t run, even if they knew the outcome. Each to their fate... she told herself. Stare into the eyes of destiny. Though prepared, My Own couldn’t keep the anxiety completely from welling up in her.
They shuttled down alone, except for the shuttle pilot who was ordered to remain at the craft. The arid dry heat of the planet smacked My Own in the face when she stepped from the shuttle. The surface of the planet looked even more bleak then it did from orbit. The ground was cracked, brittle and crunched beneath their feet as they walked out across the dehydrated ground.
Uklavar didn’t say a word as he led My Own across the desolate planet, every step became harder than the last. The heat in the air weighed heavy on her, perspiration soaked her clothes, and even though she drank hardy from the water canteen she brought, it didn’t quench her thirst. Her eyes burned and she wiped the sweat from them, the sun reflected off the surface and blinded her.
She drew a breath – the dense heat wore heavy on her lungs. Uklavar’s stride was larger than My Own’s and she struggled to keep up with him, until finally, “Can you slow down, I can’t keep up.”
Uklavar craned his head back toward her. He slowed his pace but didn’t give her a verbal reply.
“Why are we here... I have a right to know?”
Uklavar snorted like a raging bull and returned to his quickened stride, clearly enraged from her questions.
My Own rushed forward ignoring the heaviness of the atmosphere to match the beast’s wide footfalls. “What do you hope to find here?”
“I hope nothing, child.”
His words tore through My Own like sharp glass, and she refrained from pursuing the matter. It was clear the beast wouldn’t be forthcoming with answers. She would have to wait and hope she could keep up the pace and not pass out from the scorching heat.
In the distance, a series of low hills appeared. The short knolls weren’t big enough to be considered mountains, but it appeared to be Uklavar’s destination. As the hills took shape, so did the carvings chiseled into the side of them.
The indentations of gruesome, horrid creatures – monsters out of nightmares were depicted along the crag. Unimaginable beasts that made Uklavar seem tame in comparison. The closer they got to the hillside, the more frightening the depictions became.
“Eons ago,” Uklavar said. “When my unstoppable army tore its way through the cosmos, planet by planet, these were my heralds. They would give warning that I was coming.”
My Own stood in silence. If these loathsome beasts were his scouts, what was his army like? She wondered.
“Until I can find and release my army from their prison, they are all I have now. The only thing preventing me from finding them is the Origin computer. But my scouts will deal with that.”
A frightened lump rose up in My Own’s stomach, and she hesitated before saying, “They’re just stone.”
“Before my incarceration, I managed to protect them – they are merely sleeping, but now it is time for them to awake,” Uklavar said peering down at My Own, fire raged in his eyes.
She gazed up at him, her image reflected in his hollow eyes. She held her breath, and then said, “You did bring me here to kill me.”
A shallow smile ghosted Uklavar’s lips and he said, “No, child. I brought you here to give you a second chance at life. A rebirth if you will, as my Harbinger. I will bestow on you, a power only gifted to Gods. You will be feared, for you will be my voice and it will be a voice of terror, and trepidation.”
My Own backed away, her legs like wet noodles, she couldn’t run. The pounding of her heart echoed in her ears, and she couldn’t run. Her mouth bled dry, and tears welled in her eyes, and she couldn’t run.
When Uklavar’s cold hand grabbed her by the scruff of the neck she tried to scream but it stuck in her throat. She wanted to fight, wanted to break free from his grip, but the horned beast was too strong, too powerful and she didn’t even try.
With tremendous force, Uklavar threw My Own across the arid plain toward the hillside, the scream she had been holding escaped her lungs, but her shrieks became pacified. Her collision with the crag softened as monstrous hands reached out for her. She struggled against their pull, but they drug her into the ground. Suffocating, My Own was clawed, scraped, and defiled by brutish inhuman hands. They ripped away her garments and tore into her flesh. She shouted and cried out, but her woes were silent.
Lost in a vacuum all she heard was the insidious hissing and growling of the creatures, their images masked in an endless black. “What is happening!” her cries drown by the devilish snarls.
Through endless black, My Own reached out, trying to feel her way in the nothingness. She leveled her thoughts, concentrating. Lost, the more she tried to focus, the further her memories became entangled and lost to her. In a brief moment, she forgot who she was. She fought to remind herself, “I am Corah McGregor. Uklavar cannot have who I am. My life is My Own... My Own.”
She caught glimpse of a shadowy reflection o
f herself fading away, her sorrowful gaze begging not to let her go... it reached out for her, but before My Own could hold out her hand, the image was gone. Gutted, a chunk of her seemed lost. A moment she would never get back. An icy realization shocked her and My Own gasped for a breath of air. A sharp sting sliced through her as she was jerked and pulled this way and that... until–
My Own was expelled outward, back to the dry wasteland, landing at Uklavar’s feet. She drew herself up on her arms, surprised she was still fully clothed. Yet her attire had changed into something darker – sleeker and more adhered to her form. Panting like a wild animal, she looked into the horned beast’s face, his teeth glistened as he offered a wretched smile.
Her reflection in Uklavar’s eyes forced a gasp from her and she looked at her hands. They were old. “What did you do to me?” she asked, realizing her voice was different, deeper.
“Like you did for me, you have done for my scouts... giving some of your lifeforce to revive them.”
My Own forced herself to her feet. The hissing, snarling sounds she had heard in the abyss called to her even now. She swallowed in a dry throat and turned, hitching a breath when she saw them. Hundreds of winged insectoids – insidious creatures of hatred and devilish demeanor. She had given her lifeforce to resurrect them.
She spun back to Uklavar, asked, “Will I get it back... will my youth return?”
His voice level and honest, Uklavar said, “You will not recover from this.”
Staggered, My Own kept her composure refusing to show her remorse. Uklavar stepped past her – he wouldn’t have cared about her feelings anyway, but regardless, she averted her eyes to the dry ground.
Uklavar addressed his scouts, his thunderous voice proud and relentless, he told them, “I have come for you, as I promised I would so long ago. Our battle is not yet over. It is time to finish what we started. But mastery over the universe cannot be achieved without my warriors. We must find them and free them. This is where you bring forth death and destruction in my name. The Origin computer will be mine. GO... to Shin’nor’ee and kill everyone there... leave none alive.”
The heart in My Own’s chest swelled – there was nothing she could do to stop them or warn her brother that the enemy was coming. She looked up as the insect-like creatures took the sky, battle in their hearts. She tried not to think what they would do once they reached Origin’s planet, but the fate of her friends seemed assured. As she watched the evil beings turn into little black specks in the sky and fade from sight, she froze in place. Uklavar’s heavy breathing chilled her bones and she slowly turned toward him.
“Now, child. I give you a choice. Stand with me as my herald, announce my arrival to the universe and I will give you a place where all people are equal, where there is no High-Born, or Low-Born, there are only people. People who will stand with me or be trampled underfoot. I will give no false pretense of my goal for utter compliance.”
My Own couldn’t hold in her anger. She would never do his bidding – she would rather die than become a mindless tool. She drew a breath, confident in her reply and said, “I will do as you wish Milord,” bending to her right knee in compliance. If she couldn’t defeat him, she would join him and destroy Uklavar, when he least expected her betrayal.
The Planet Kepler 369, aka the Planet Shin’nor’ee
High Planetary Orbit, on the Tannador Exploration Ship – Requiem
October 11, 2442 – Earth time
Charles Long slept for twenty-four-hours aboard Requiem, and took an equally long shower, though it was more like forty-five-minutes. Refreshed and ready to take on the galaxy, he’d dressed in clean clothes, a pair of tan chinos, and a blue button-down shirt with venting holes in the underarms and back to keep him cool. He threw away the one-piece expedition coveralls that he wore for far too long, that reeked of indescribable odors. He spent time in his office, downloading information onto his palm device. Star charts, ancient symbols and texts he’d discovered on other worlds, and even some Samarian texts that he thought were reminiscent of representations on the planet below.
In one of the lower cabinets he discovered a photograph of his mothers’ Alexis and Amanda who had died as a result of the slave uprising of twenty-four-thirteen. It’s because of their deaths, that Charles began a path that led him to this place. If only they could see me now, he thought. It was their love that sustained him. If they had lived, he might never have become an archeologist – he might be working at a food processing plant for the Tannadors, he didn’t know.
He gave the picture a sorrowful smile and replaced it in the cabinet. He held onto the good memories – the times they had sharing, and loving. Those times were apart of him and gave him the fortitude to make the right choices. Even if I’m not sure what those choices are anymore.
Pressing a button at the base of a com-link, Charles waited until he heard the voice of the ship’s doctor answer. “This is Professor Long, I’m getting ready to go back to the planet doctor, and was...”
“There hasn’t been any change in Professor Abernathy,” the doctor’s voice interrupted as if not wanting to be bothered.
Charles cleared his throat, and replied, “Please send a signal down to the planet if there is any change.”
“Yes, of course,” the doctor’s voice came back and instantly the link went dead.
Charles rolled his nose toward the com-link, and bit his tongue, forgoing any snide remark. He figured what was the use, considering no one would hear him anyway.
He gathered his notes, and his refilled palm devices and shoved them in an over-shoulder satchel and slung it over his head. He headed for the door but out of instinct he stopped and turned. Above his real wood desk, hung an old mirror, no larger than six inches. It drew him to it, and for some odd unexplainable reason, he didn’t ignore its call.
He stared at his reflection for a short time and studied the wrinkles around his eyes. His skin had turned leathery and dark over the years, but now, for the first time, he looked old. He sighed complaining to himself that now wasn’t the time to be vain. He withdrew from the mirror, but before he turned away, he caught sight of a manifestation growing in the reflection behind him.
“Don’t turn around Professor.”
Charles grimaced, and whispered, “Jonna.” He steadied himself. Was he seeing an apparition, a vision, or a hallucination, he wasn’t sure, but he was sure Jonna was different, changed somehow.
“Professor,” Jonna’s voice was distant, and ethereal. “Uklavar is sending an attack to Shin’nor’ee – vial creatures who’s only concern is killing everyone on the planet.”
Charles swallowed, the words almost sticking in this throat, he asked, “He discovered his army, then?”
“No,” Jonna assured him. “These are his scouts. Though not his army, they will be just as deadly. You have no way of fighting them – except through Origin. They will tear their way through Requiem and ravage the expedition team in the Origin chamber with singular focus. Origin is your only hope. We are rushing back to the surface, but we have wounded, and we may not make it in time. You have to be prepared.”
A pain came to Charles’ chest, wondering if one of the wounded was Da’Mira. “What must I do?” he asked.
“Order the Requiem away in the name of Lady Tannador. There is a binary cluster less than half a sector away. It can hide there until after the attack.”
“What about the people on the planet?” Charles asked.
Jonna didn’t answer.
“Jonna?” Charles said and turned sharply to find the room empty.
He shook his head, wondering for a moment if what he saw was real. His brow furrowed. Enaction could be a mistake, he thought. Like in all things – a vision from Jonna shouldn’t be dismissed. If he stood by and did nothing, people could die. If that wasn’t the case, he might seem a little foolish, which he could live with, the death of everyone, he could not.
He pressed the switch at the base of the com-link and spoke with aut
hority, “This is Professor Charles Long. In the name of the Lady Da’Mira Tannador I am ordering this ship out of orbit and to a binary cluster half a sector away where it will remain until called for.” He swallowed back the anxiety. To invoke the name of a High-Born was punishable by death, but Da’Mira had given orders on Requiem that he had the authority to do such a thing, and the crew were to obey without question.
A voice came back over the speaker, “As you order Professor.”
An alert flashed throughout the ship preparing the crew for the planetary departure. Charles snagged the strap around his neck and gave it a jerk. If his people were in danger on the planet, the last thing he was going to do, was remain on the ship.
I’ll fight alongside them, he thought. Or die alongside them...
The Planet Kepler 369, aka the Planet Shin’nor’ee
The Origin Chamber
October 11, 2442 – Earth Time
Charles made it off Requiem before the ship left orbit. With them safely away, the only thing left to worry about was the expedition teams on the planet. Jonna’s warning came so fast and without time to prepare a planet evacuation, Charles didn’t want to chance shuttling the planetary teams off world when the attack came. They would make their stand in the Origin Chamber. Only I have no idea how... he mused.
The teams scrambled to alert after Charles told them of the impending danger. Some of the team members suggested they go underground and follow in Lady Da’Mira’s path, but Charles persuaded them otherwise. “Our best chance is in the open,” he told them. “Arm yourselves with anything that can be used as a weapon and find a secure hiding place.”
“We aren’t fighters,” one of the team members said.
“They’ll rip right through us,” another person said.
Charles heard the terror in their voices. They were right, and the chance any of them would make it out of this alive was slim, and he hated to give them false hope, but without hope... all was lost. “We will get through this – trust in yourselves.”