Origin Equation

by Charles F Millhouse

  Leaning over the back of the co-pilot seat, Quinton asked Carmela, “What’s happening?”

  “Evergarden might not be the safest place to land right now,” Carmela said.

  Quinton grimaced, and asked, “What could be safer than a High-Born space platform?”

  “Safe might not have been the correct thing to say,” Carmela replied. “All I can ask is that you trust me, Milord. Your father did.”

  Quinton thought back to what Hek’Dara told him on his deathbed. Bring House Anders into House Tannador. You’ll need a union with them if we are to survive. Trust Carmela. Quinton held his protest. Not because his father asked him to trust Carmela, but because he trusted Hek’Dara, and that was something he never did when his father was alive.

  Minutes later, the shuttle passed to the dark side of the moon. The light chatter between the soldiers in the ship stopped and all eyes focused on what was outside. The surface of the natural satellite was pitch black and Quinton’s skin pricked alive with apprehension. It was like a mass of nothing, the black waiting to swallow them. It was unlike anything Quinton had ever seen.

  “I never had the chance to tell your father the whole truth,” Carmela admitted. “I would have liked to have seen his face when he saw, what I am about to show you. It took my breath away and I daresay you will not see a sight like this for a long time.”

  Intrigued, Quinton leaned forward, focusing his eyes on the black in front of him. When a tiny white light flashed on the Moon’s surface, he focused. It sparkled like a lost jewel and its brightness intensified with each passing moment.

  The small jewel disappeared, and a lava of light sliced along the fissure as it grew wider and wider. Quinton shielded his eyes, but he couldn’t look away. The fracture widened, and the light became more supple and inviting. He lowered his hand away from his face and focused.

  The shuttle began its descent toward the Moon and became completely engulfed in the light. When the ship went closer, Quinton swallowed, his mind froze trying to understand what he was seeing. How is this possible? He wondered. They were flying into an enormous landing bay – big enough to hold all of the space platforms in orbit of the Earth. An incredible since of vigor engulfed him as the tiny shuttle flew deeper into the artificial crevasse.

  To say the landing bay was enormous was an understatement and it was impossible to see everything with the passing of the eyes. So many questions flittered through Quinton’s head, but when he saw them, his blood iced. He counted twenty-two ships. Not explorer vessels. They were large, and armored plated. Heavily armed with giant cannons and massive deflector shields. They were ready for a fight, and Quinton believed they could do just that.

  The ships weren’t bulky, but sleek like giant albatross waiting to soar into battle. When the shuttle came nearer, Quinton understood their scope and magnitude. He seemed so tiny in their presence and he understood their power.

  When the shuttle crossed over the hull of one of the sleek vessels, he saw a number of smaller ships. If the giant warships were like albatross, these were birds of prey – stealthier craft for getting into and out of tight situations. It was a parade of armaments so impressive, it left Quinton with more questions than answers. What’s the price for something like this? Nothing of this magnitude ever comes without a price, or sacrifice.

  The Highlander Clan

  Earth – Dalnaspidal, Scotland

  November 1, 2442

  Clans from all over Scotland came to Dalnaspidal when word went out there was to be a battle and a chance to move to greener pastures. Colin McGregor hoped he would be able to deliver on his promise. He hadn’t heard from Da’Mira since they departed twelve days ago, and he was beginning to worry. If something happened to her, the whole idea of moving the clans to another planet would be in doubt and he wondered if he could keep the people content long enough to find an alternative. Water was scarce, the crops from the summer didn’t yield enough food for one clan, let alone the seven who had come into the valley over the past couple of weeks.

  When Locklorn DeGray found Colin in the Hallmark, he didn’t give him time to explain. Shoving him to the ground, he exclaimed, “Goddamn it, Colin I trusted you.”

  Colin sat on his backside, his arms acting like kickstands to hold him up. “What the hell was that for?” he screamed.

  Locklorn stabbed a finger at Colin and said, “What scheme are you cooking up this time? The people are starving, and their hopes are hinged on your promises, and you’re hiding in the Hallmark.”

  The Hallmark was a crop of trees where Colin and his best friend Shane Gibson use to come to, to drink, fuck girls and come up with wild ideas of how to steel, or rob people. In the Hallmark he was able to think, it was as if Shane was with him, only Shane hadn’t said a thing.

  Colin tried to get up, but Locklorn swung his oversized hand in a wild punch and sent him back to the dirt. “Will you stop doing that!” Colin yelled.

  “Was the idea of fighting, being warriors again, and winning a new parcel of land just lies?” Locklorn yelled. “Because if it is, it’s a sick twisted lie.”

  Colin situated himself on the ground, figuring it was where he was going to stay for a while and said, “Everything I told you was the truth. I saw the creature. He will be coming here, and when he does, those of us who are still alive, will be slaves, or worse.”

  “Look around you Colin. How could it be worse than this? The people are going to start dying because there is no food. It’s the end, and you bring us false hope.”

  “I bring you nothing more than what I promise for myself,” Colin said. “I just need some time to contact Da’Mira, and she will send help, food, water, medicine.”

  “The High-Born don’t give a crap about us, Colin. You know that better than anyone,” Locklorn said and took a step back away from Colin. “You’ve fought them your whole life, but now you’re allying yourself with them.”

  Colin hesitated, eyed Locklorn, and then pushed himself to his feet. When Locklorn shifted his footing, Colin threw his hands up in front of him, said, “Now, you’re not going to knock me down again are ya?”

  Locklorn’s body hardened, his massive fists out in front of him, he growled, “I should bloody well do more than that. But right now, I need you to convince me.”’

  “Convince you?”

  “Yeah. Show me, prove to me that what you’re telling me is the truth and that I can trust you.”

  Colin wiped his lower lip with the back of his hand, half expecting there to be blood. He rolled his eyes to look into Locklorn’s eyes, and mumbled, “Convince you.”

  Locklorn glowered, and snarled, “You can’t, can you?”

  Colin straightened his posture and steadied himself, he chose his next words knowing that Locklorn wouldn’t take kindly to him saying, “Other than my word, I have no proof. But there was a time when my word was all that mattered.”

  “Your word won’t fill the empty stomachs back in the camp, nor will it quiet the cries of newborn babes,” Locklorn replied.

  “Then how will kicking my ass fix any of that?” Colin asked.

  Locklorn relaxed and lowered his arms to his side, and said, “It won’t... it won’t.”

  “I’ll just have to go and see what happened to Da’Mira. Maybe she got held up, maybe she...”

  “Maybe she just forgot about you,” Locklorn admitted.

  “No, no she wouldn’t do that. I know her. She’s not like other High-Born. She actually cares, she...”

  Locklorn threw his hands at Colin, scoffed and said, “Enough, Colin. Enough. You and I will go back to the encampment and together we will tell them that the High-Born lied, they lied to you and that you lied to us–”

  Colin stepped back. He didn’t believe what he was hearing, nor would he go and tell the clans that he lied, when he didn’t. “That’s it... I’ve had enough of you calling me a liar. I’m going back to the shuttle and I’m going to find out what is going on.”

  “And if I won�
�t let you go?” Locklorn asked.

  Even though Colin was sure Locklorn could tear him apart, he threw out his chest and said, “If... you... think... you... can... stop... me.”

  Locklorn drew back his fist.

  Colin grimaced.

  Locklorn held his punch when a thunderous roar tore through the late day sky, and the whoosh of engines hummed from above.

  Colin pushed past a skeptical Locklorn and stepped out of the Hallmark’s crop of trees. The craft broke through the puffy clouds above. The ship was bigger than a Monarch shuttle or a Fortitude class transport. It was of a design that Colin had never seen before. The ship was flat and a deep rustic brown, at more than fifty meters long. Landing gear dropped from the bottom of the huge craft, its mass filled a great portion of the open area leading up to the Hallmark.

  Locklorn stepped up behind Colin, and said something, but the thump, thump, thump of the ship’s engines drowned him out. Colin took a step toward the landed ship, and Locklorn grabbed Colin by the arm, and shook his head – warning him to be careful. Colin nodded, as to say it will be okay, and moved toward the ship.

  A large cylinder lowered from the bottom of the craft, and after a few moments, two doors parted, and a bright light poured from the opening. The outline of a woman stood inside the elevator, and Colin was sure it was Da’Mira.

  “Stay here,” Colin told Locklorn. “If something happens to me, get our people to safety.”

  “What are you going to do?” Locklorn asked.

  “I’m not sure, let’s just hope it’s not something stupid,” Colin replied as he walked toward the ship. As he neared the woman, her form became clearer. He stopped, not sure of what he was looking at. He swallowed – anxious, he took a couple more steps closer, until he saw her. He tried to speak, tried to say her name, but the words stuck in his throat. Finally, he said, “Avara...”

  She stepped away from the craft, the long red dress she wore blew around her legs from the whoosh of the ship’s engines. Her hair was lighter than Colin remembered, but her honey eyes hadn’t changed. They sparkled as she greeted him with a warm smile, stopping feet from him.

  This wasn’t the Avara Rodan that he met months ago. This version was more assure and confident in her grace, her style and how she presented herself. Colin cleared his throat, and questioned, “Avara...?”

  “It’s been a long time, Colin McGregor,” Avara said. Her voice was deeper. The inflections in her words were less rustic like those of her tribe, and more refined. She might look like Avara, but Colin wasn’t sure if this was the woman who nursed him back to health after his shuttle crashed on the fringe of her village.

  He studied her, from the silk dress she wore, to the gold bracelets on her wrists and forearms. Decadent, the innocence that Colin remembered was gone and he wasn’t sure who he was looking at. He cocked his mouth and scratched his nose, before saying, “You are Avara Rodan... aren’t you?”

  “This will take some time to explain,” Avara said. “But I am here instead of Da’Mira Tannador, because she is not well and–”

  Colin stumbled forward, and said, “Not well... what do you mean not well?”

  Avara placed her hands up in front of her, to quiet Colin and said, “She will be fine. She is recovering and will be there to meet you when we arrive. This ship, and several others like it, are large enough to accommodate your people and...”

  “Wait, wait, wait,” Colin said. “This is going too fast.”

  Avara took half a step back.

  Colin studied the massive ship behind her, unsure what to think. When he last saw her, Avara was frantic, and obsessed with getting back to Earth, back to her daughter. It was the one thing in the universe Colin was sure of. To have done anything else but get back to her daughter was completely out of her character.

  “I can see it in your eyes Colin. You have questions, but it’s not easy answers. But if you give me some time, I will explain it all to you. Right now, we need to get your people off the planet, see to their medical needs and get them food. The question is, do you trust me?”

  Colin wanted to say yes, he trusted her. Instead he replied, “I’m willing to hear you out.”

  Avara smiled and said, “I never knew you to be so cautious before.”

  “Call it life experiences,” Colin replied and said, “You saw the creature, Uklavar. You know he will be coming to Earth. The Highlanders will fight, but our culture, our very existence in the galaxy is threatened. Please, I need to know, before I tell my people. Can we... can I, trust you?”

  Avara reached out for Colin, and said, “Yes, Colin McGregor, you can trust me. And you can also trust, that together we will take the battle to Uklavar and bring the creature to his knees.”

  The Forgotten Planet, Majestian

  On the Farthest Reaches of the Galaxy

  November 3, 2442 – Earth Time

  After three days, and twelve wormhole jumps, the Seeker arrived over the planet Majestian. The world looked like slick glass – a shining jewel suspended in space. My Own had never seen the likes. Though beautiful, there was something ethereal and haunting about Majestian. The sight of it chilled My Own’s flesh.

  She and Uklavar took a shuttle down to the planet within an hour of arriving. At Uklavar’s command, Origin accompanied them, though the supercomputer hadn’t spoken since he gave away the location of Uklavar’s army. It was as if Origin was sulking over the fact that My Own had found a way around his non-interference directive, and she didn’t blame him. She might have sealed the fate of the human race.

  Origin was more than a machine, more than man, yet he must have some kind of feelings to have remain quiet for so long, especially after My Own tried repeatedly to call for him.

  Uklavar didn’t care if Origin spoke, saying, “His purpose is to record history, let him record my triumph, let him record the destruction of everything unwilling to bend a knee to me.”

  My Own didn’t say much either. It wasn’t like she and the horned beast were on speaking terms. She loathed him with every fiber of her being. He had shown nothing but contempt for every lifeform, how could she relate to that?

  My Own pulled the Origin computer on a hover skid as she and Uklavar made their way across the barren surface of the planet. The shimmering blue surface looked like water beneath her feet, and Uklavar remarked how ironic it was that a god could walk on water.

  Above them, crystal-like gems spun throughout the sky and reminded My Own of tiny droplets of water, twirling endlessly as far as the eye could see. The light from the planet’s sun sparkled off them, and with each passing turn, a low musical hum resonated throughout the sky. They were as pleasing to listen to, as to look at. What a magical place, My Own thought.

  When a tremendous bright hot flash ripped through the sky the musical notes turned sour. My Own spun around and looked skyward. Even though it was from high orbit the vaporizing glare blinded her. There was no doubt what she was looking at. The Seeker...

  “Pity,” Uklavar said.

  “You killed them all,” My Own whispered.

  “It wasn’t I who planted the bomb on their engine core,” Uklavar said. “It wasn’t I who primed it to go off, though it was I who prevented the explosion. If I hadn’t, we would have been dead days ago.”

  A gut-wrenching pain tore through My Own’s stomach, she wanted to lash out, she wanted to kill Uklavar where he stood, but she didn’t have that power. She might never have the power. She glanced at the fading light in orbit, and then at the horned beast. We would have been dead days ago. Interesting, she thought.

  The musical tones of the floating crystals returned to normal, but now they seemed less tranquil, their tune was more sorrowful and lamenting. A sadness draped the land and My Own felt the remorse for the dead crew of the Seeker.

  Uklavar had walked on ahead of My Own, his lumbering strides were larger than hers, and My Own had to quicken her pace to keep up. With the Seeker destroyed there was no other way off this planet, un
less Uklavar’s gamble, paid off, and his army was here. He wouldn’t have destroyed the ship if there was no other way off the planet.

  Without warning, the surface of the planet burst into blue flame, and a hurricane force wind blew around them, whipping and churning – it took My Own’s breath, and she forced herself to breathe.

  The liquid blue flames shot high into the sky, crossing Uklavar’s path, thickening with each passing second. From the flames, forms began to manifest. An assemblage of women appeared from the fire. They were the Sisterhood of the Cosmea. All were adorned in gold armor, a white sash ran across their chests, and their heads were covered in gleaming helmets that caught the glare of the blue flame.

  My Own stopped next to Uklavar, in awe, she studied them. She cowered when they slammed their staffs down to the ground, causing a tremendous thunderclap that reverberated over the roaring winds.

  Stop...! Their warnings echoed all around.

  You can go no further...

  No further...

  No further...

  No further...

  Stop... go no further. This planet is under the protection of the Cosmea.

  Turn back, go no further...!

  Uklavar took a step toward the sisters, and they rose their staffs in a defensive posture.

  “HA,” Uklavar roared. “They are like predators that have no teeth.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” My Own asked.

  “They are illusions, phantoms who are here to intimidate, but they have no power, they are no threat.”

  The blue flames became more intense, the wind without remorse.

  “I’d say they have some power,” My Own yelled.

  Go back, come no further.

  No further...

  No further...

  No further... the sisterhood warned again and again.

  “I refuse to be daunted, or coerced,” Uklavar said. “I will not stop, nor will I go back. You are phantoms of the past, I destroyed you all, and I no longer fear you.” He took another step closer toward the sisterhood, and as suddenly as they appeared, they vanished.