Origin Equation

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Origin Equation Page 25

by Charles F Millhouse


  The calm tunes of the spinning crystals returned as did the tranquility of the planet.

  Without a word, Uklavar continued forward as if nothing had happened. My Own followed, the Origin computer in tow. But before she could have a chance to catch up with Uklavar, the entire area transformed. This time there were no giant blue flames, or uncontrollable winds. This time a quaint village appeared around them and My Own stopped.

  She stood in the center of a cobblestone street. On either side of the avenue were a row of attractive hamlets with rustic brown sidings and white shutters. Lovely red, blue and orange plants grew in perfectly manicured flowerbeds outside each home. The air smelled of honeysuckle after a summer rain shower.

  “NO...” Uklavar ran into view. “Get out of my mind, my thoughts are mine, you cannot use them against me.”

  When a tall young boy appeared, My Own was taken aback. He was lean, and handsome, but oddly familiar. Atop his head were two stubs, where horns had been – shaved down against his skull. He wore a loose tunic around his torso and a crooked smile on his face.

  My Own glanced at Uklavar, and then to the young boy. They were the same person. My Own swallowed. The Cosmea were using Uklavar’s memories. But to what end...? she wondered.

  Uklavar raced forward toward the younger version of himself, but the image walked through the horned beast as if he wasn’t even there. Uklavar’s eyes wrenched tight, then his face slackened into a sorrowful expression.

  “You can’t use this against me, you can’t use her against me,” Uklavar said. “I forbid it...!”

  When a lovely green skinned girl came out from one of the homes, the young Uklavar was there to greet her. They longed for one another, their eyes staring deeply, they both gave each other a pleasant smile.

  “Hello, Uklavar,” the girl said with a pleasant lilt to her voice.

  The young Uklavar cleared his throat, but when he spoke the words still came out cracked and squeaky, “Hello, Elista.”

  My Own had heard that name before. Elista was the name invoked by Azalum on Shin’nor’ee. She remembered how it infuriated Uklavar. This moment means something, My Own thought.

  Elista was humanoid, more human than Uklavar. Her green skin was soft, and her milky eyes were as pleasant as her warm smile. She wore a blue dress, and her feet were bare. At the top of her head she wore a crown of flowers over her dark hair.

  The older Uklavar backed away and didn’t speak. He didn’t weep, but his eyes were downtrodden and remorseful. This was his Achilles heel. The one thing that hurt Uklavar more than any weapon ever could. Whatever power was on the planet, it created this illusion, it knew of the horned beast’s weakness.

  The younger Uklavar and Elista walked up the sidewalk outside the homes, hand in hand. Two young lovers, the only thing in life that mattered was each other. They strolled past My Own, who shifted her gaze to the older Uklavar.

  “Don’t look at me like that... don’t look at me...!”

  My Own didn’t avert her eyes, and Uklavar charged at her, his hands into fists and fury in his eyes. But My Own stood her ground. She stared at him, their eyes locked onto each other. Uklavar withdrew his challenge and stood there staring at My Own.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” Uklavar whispered.

  “Who was she?” My Own asked in a calm steady voice.

  “She was my wife,” he replied glancing back toward his younger version. “This was the day I asked her to marry me. She was my life, my soul, my everything.”

  Brazen, My Own asked, “What happened?”

  Uklavar snarled exposing his teeth to My Own, and said without remorse or regret, “I killed worlds for what they did to her. I wiped out billions upon billions for what they did.

  My Own didn’t ask what ‘they’ did. She could push the envelope so far, but if she took that extra step, pushed the beast any further, he might lash out.

  The scene around them changed, the village vanished, and My Own and Uklavar stood in an open meadow of flowers, and tall blue grass. Near a large blossom tree, Elista and Uklavar sat, she was in his arms and he rocked her back and forth. She had been crying. The older Uklavar ran toward the couple, his hands outstretched as if he wanted to comfort her himself. But their images passed through him.

  “NO...!” Uklavar dropped to his knees.

  My Own stopped short of the young couple. Her heart sank when she heard Elista say, “I lost the baby Uklavar. I lost our son.”

  Both Uklavars screamed, but where the younger version comforted Elista, the older version threw his hands into the air. In his rage, a sonic blast tore through the sky. The ground shook, and the sky flared with red fire. The deeper Uklavar’s rage, the more the world shook.

  The ground dropped under them, and My Own plummeted downward, she screamed, reaching out for something to stop her descent but all she grabbed was air. The sound of weapons fire spun around her and when she hit the ground she laid there, uncertain how she survived such a fall. She reached out, relieved to find the Origin computer near her.

  Uklavar was near her too, the sonic blasts still ripping from his fists and My Own buried her head in her arms. She peered out of the crook of her arm, and watched the sky come alive. Sheets of lightening cascaded through the lower atmosphere and charged the air with static electricity. Like a snare drum, a low intense rumble of thunder followed and hammered across the heavens with an incessant bombardment.

  Uklavar shook his fist at the sky and screamed, his words intertangled with the sky’s crescendo and My Own couldn’t hear him. She moved to her feet; the ground rumbled with the same intense power drumming through the air. Her footing unsure, My Own steadied herself narrowing her gaze on the horned creature until the sisterhood of the Cosmea reappeared.

  They were everywhere, encircling them. Uklavar leveled his eyes on the women – his chest swelled with hate, puffing in and out he forced his words and between clenched teeth he said, “I have come for what is rightfully mine. No power in the universe will prevent me from taking it.”

  One of the women stepped forward. She placed her staff in front of her and said, “Your journey here is for naught, creature of evil. Your army can no longer help you. You are alone in the universe.”

  “I am Uklavar the Powerful, Uklavar the Usurper, Uklavar the Mighty,” he thundered.

  The priestess removed the hood from her head. She was young. Her milky skin was smooth – her eyes deep blue and alluring. She offered a faint grin when she spoke, said, “You are Uklavar, mass murderer and you cannot be allowed to continue your reign of terror. You have managed to kill everyone in the galaxy, who are there left to bend a knee to you?”

  “The humans of Earth, they are feeble enough to be exploited, they will willingly bend the knee to me,” Uklavar said.

  “They will not,” the priestess replied with certainty. “Even now they plot and prepare.”

  “Ridiculous,” Uklavar laughed. “No matter what they conspire, they will be no match for me, or my army.”

  Drawn into the conversation, My Own didn’t sense the presence behind her until a hand came to her shoulder. She jumped, a slight squeak came from her throat, but when the hand spun her around, My Own found another hooded priestess before her – a finger pressed to her lips, she said, “Shhh.”

  My Own nodded a reply and drew a deep breath.

  “Uklavar is on the precipice of releasing his army,” the priestess said.

  My Own looked around at the members of the sisterhood and replied, “Well stop him. Surely there are enough of you to do that.”

  Dejected, the priestess's mouth turned down into a little line and she shook her head and said, “We are illusions. Forcefield projections and computer-generated images programed a thousand years ago for this dreadful day. We have no power... we cannot stop him from prevailing. Soon he will realize his army is nearer than he thought. Uklavar’s will is powerful, and soon he will see through our ruse.”

  “Which is?” My Own asked. />
  “That Uklavar’s army, his ships, everything we managed to defeat a millennium ago is here,” the priestess said pointing with her eyes.

  My Own glanced at the tiny crystals floating in the air around them. She gasped, and said, “They are...” she held the rest of her words, afraid Uklavar might hear.

  “His resolve is powerful. No illusion will prevent him from seeing what is in front of him. Not even the illusion of his dead wife will deter him.”

  Uklavar’s laugh roared, and My Own turned toward him. The pretense exposed, the horned beast relished in his triumph as the tiny crystals presented themselves and the army of Uklavar emerged from the ether.

  “You thought me so dimwitted, that I would not see what was right in front of me the whole time,” he laughed.

  My Own’s brow tightened, and she jerked to one side – sidestepping her way out of the ships as they presented themselves. Uklavar’s men faded from obscurity, their bodies shrouded in dense black armor.

  Victorious, Uklavar challenged, “There...! Do you see...? My army awaits...!”

  The images of the Cosmea began to wane, slipping out of existence. The look of defeat stamped on their faces. Uklavar shook his fist to the sky and roared in triumph. Ethereal forms began to appear from the mist. Large brutish beasts in gray-black armor. They dropped to their knees when they saw their Lord and Master.

  “Rise, General Bovotus,” Uklavar commanded.

  The General stood, his eyes averted to the floor, he slapped his fist against his large chest and said in a deep grumble, “I am honored to serve, Milord.”

  “Yes, and serve you will,” Uklavar said and commanded, “Look at me.”

  “Sire, I dare not,” Bovotus said.

  “Now is not the time for ceremony General. You have won me battles, now I expect you to win the war. The universe has crumbled beneath your army’s might. But you have not finished, not yet. Not until the universe finishes burning. Only then will we have time to rest.”

  Startled, My Own jumped when the priestess nearest her grabbed ahold of her arm and turned her around. Her image was fading, and her words hollow, she said, “There isn’t much time. It is up to you, and those of Earth to prepare yourselves for Uklavar’s arrival. The Cosmea are finally finished. Our light has gone out and we can no longer render assistance. Mankind’s fate is in your hands. I have but one gift to give you. Warn them.... good luck.” With that, the priestess reached out and, in a wisp, My Own and the Origin computer were gone.

  Beneath the Surface of the Moon

  November 3, 2442

  Da’Mira blinked, trying to figure out where all the light came from. When an image stepped into her line of sight, she focused. Colin McGregor gave her a wide toothy grin as she jerked forward in the bed.

  “Easy now. Easy,” Colin said. “You’ve been asleep for several days and...”

  “Days...?”

  “Aye,” Colin replied. “You had a hell of a fever, and your body needed to fight the infection.”

  Da’Mira tried moving again, and Colin put a hand at her back and helped her up.

  “Take it slow, take it slow.”

  The room bent out of shape and rocked like a ship at sea. A twinge came to her stomach and she placed a hand to it, and said, “Where are we.”

  “In a hospital,” Colin said.

  “I can see that. Where are we?”

  Colin stood quiet for a moment, and said, “This is going to be hard to understand at first...”

  Da’Mira scolded Colin with an agitated expression, and she drew a breath.

  “We’re on the Moon,” Colin blurted out.

  Da’Mira thinned her eyes, and replied, “The Moon... the Moon?”

  “Aye,” Colin replied.

  “How in the hell are we...”

  “It will all be explained to you in time,” Colin assured her. “Just take a minute to acclimate. You’ve been through a hell of an ordeal the last couple weeks and...”

  Da’Mira shot Colin an infuriated glare, and the Highlander stopped in mid-sentence, rubbed the back of his neck and looked to the floor.

  “I’m not a child, Colin.”

  “Nay. But what you don’t understand Da’Mira, is things are bigger than you or I. Uklavar is but the tip of a mountain. There are events in motion that are out of our hands. Things that were put in place decades before you and I were born.

  Da’Mira swung her legs over the side of the bed.

  “Easy,” Colin snapped reaching for her. “Take your time, you...”

  Da’Mira gripped the side of the bed, the room turned in front of her and her stomach tightened. The harsh light from above burned her eyes more than before – she saluted her hand over her brow to block the intense glow. Her pasty tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth and she swallowed in a dry throat. “Could I have a drink of water?”

  Colin poured a cup from a pitcher, and passed it over and asked, “How do you feel?”

  “Like I was dropped out an airlock,” Da’Mira replied after a drink of water.

  “They brought some clothes in for you, if you want to get dressed.”

  Da’Mira looked down at the plain white gown against her extra white skin, and for an instant she missed her body paint. She hooked a smile.

  “You feeling better?” Colin asked offering a smile of his own.

  Da’Mira slid off the bed, her legs weak under her.

  “Here now, maybe you should wait for the doctor to come in and...”

  “No,” Da’Mira said finding her footing. “Hand me those clothes and help me to the shower.”

  Colin didn’t argue, though he looked like he wanted to. Instead, he gripped Da’Mira’s arm and led her to the bathroom. She slid out of the gown and let it slip to the floor. Colin coughed, and turned his head.

  “Please, don’t tell me you’re shy around someone being naked,” Da’Mira said turning on the water. The shower splashed alive and she felt the temperature.

  “No, I wasn’t expecting to see you... it’s not that I haven’t thought about it, that it crossed my mind and...”

  Da’Mira eyed Colin for a short second before climbing into the shower. The water stung her shoulder wound, and she studied the scar. The outline of the lesion was pink, and Da’Mira wasn’t sure if it was supposed to look like that, or if the water caused the discoloration. She drew a relaxing breath and soaked her skin well. She realized it had been sometime since she’d had a shower, and it was pleasing. The water became tepid and she held her body under the powerful jets. “You made contact with your people,” she asked as she began to lather the soap over her.

  “I did. All the clans joined, with the hopes of fighting in the upcoming battle.”

  “You make it sound romantic. War never is.”

  “Highlanders know the horrors of war, our history is steeped in blood,” Colin said. “But the Earth is dead Da’Mira. My people wouldn’t have lasted without a chance to fight and find a home on another world. They are willing to do whatever it takes.”

  “Where are they now?”

  “They are here,” Colin replied.

  Here, on the Moon,” Da’Mira asked.

  “That’s right.”

  Da’Mira stepped out of the shower, and Colin handed her a towel. As she dried, she asked, “Why isn’t my brother here?”

  “He’s here,” Colin assured her. “He is in a meeting with the Lady Everhart.”

  Da’Mira stopped drying, and eyed Colin, and said, “Moyah Everhart? Don’t tell me she has a hand in this too.”

  “Aye. Like I said...”

  “It will take time to wrap my head around,” Da’Mira scoffed.

  “Yes,” Colin said with an emotionless stare.

  Colin hadn’t said much after Da’Mira got out of the shower, he was cryptic and reserved in his answers to her as if he was keeping something to himself. Da’Mira finished dressing in a blue one-piece jumpsuit, that zipped up the front and a black belt that was snug around her mid-secti
on. She wore a matching pair of pull-on boots. Her scarlet hair hung loose on her shoulders.

  The idea of what was really going on, bugged the hell out of her. The more and more she saw of the moon complex the more questions she had – especially with the Everharts involved.

  Enigmatic, the Everharts were private. No one really knew how much money they had. In fact, they could have more wealth then Da’Mira’s family. They would have to, to build a place like this, she concluded.

  “Are you going to tell me what is going on?” Da’Mira asked Colin as they walked through the facility. She eyed some of the people they passed. They all wore similar uniforms like Commander Martin and were militaristic in nature. It unnerved her.

  “Well...” she asked.

  “It took me a couple days to believe everything, once Moyah told me...”

  “Moyah... Moyah Everhart?” Da’Mira asked, but didn’t give Colin a chance to answer before she said, “You actually spoke with Moyah Everhart, and you’re on first name basis?”

  “Yes, she told me everything. It was boggling to say the least.”

  Da’Mira snagged Colin by the arm and they stopped. “Alright, that’s it. Tell me what you know. I want to know about this complex, the soldiers here and why you seem so relaxed with what’s going on.”

  Colin stared at Da’Mira. His eyes told her, that he had doubts that she would believe him. “You’ll keep an open mind?”

  Da’Mira kept her emotions intact. If anything, she considered herself pretty open minded, and didn’t jump to rash conclusions before she had all the information.

  “Walk with me,” Colin said. “And I’ll tell you what I know.”

  Da’Mira eyed another passing soldier until he was a couple feet away, and nodded, matching footfalls with Colin. She drew a breath waiting to hear it all.

  When a set of double doors swooshed open, Da’Mira stood just outside and looked in. Colin told her everything before they arrived at the situation room. How Avara traveled in time and assumed the identity of Moyah Everhart. How she spearheaded the movement to prepare an unsuspecting Earth for Uklavar’s arrival. He told her of the breeding camps, and the program to build an army. For three hundred years the project that became known as Aries festered and grew out of commitment. In some respects, it calmed Da’Mira to know there was hope ahead of them. That Earth had a fighting chance to survive. But at what cost, she wondered.

 

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