by A. J. Ross
Trying to stay busy, he ate, slept, and practiced with the Fiie. Several hours passed and he started to get anxious. He kept checking the clock because he knew he was close. He should be coming up on the meteor shower at any moment. Opening the ship's viewing window, he searched for any indication.
Engineering was manually flying the ship now, as they would need to connect to one of the meteors. They had decided it would be much easier than trying to navigate through them until they reached the breakaway point. Instead, he would ride a meteor into the atmosphere. According to their calculations the meteor would fall apart upon entry releasing Lincoln. His auto pilot would re-engage and take him to the forest near the town where the refugees had escaped.
The auto pilot told him to sit. He knew the meteor must be nearby. He sat in a seat, and the straps wrapped around him. This time the voice gave him an option.
“Asleep or awake?”
“Awake!” he shouted. The words just came out of his mouth. He hadn’t thought about them at all. He felt the ship tilt to one side, then the other. He could feel it picking up speed. His heart began to race and he felt sick. The ship barreled and dropped. Lincoln felt like his stomach had gone into his throat.
“Asleep! Asleep!” he shouted as the ship began to tilt far to the left.
When he woke up things were eerily quiet. He couldn’t even hear the faint hum of the engine. This meant the engineers must have successfully attached him to a meteor. He was impressed. He stayed awake and alert because he knew he would land on Kayora in less than an hour. He was moving ever closer . . . closer . . . closer to his destiny . . .
ELEVEN
The Nephilim, Explained
Braii walked alongside Erwin. He took her down to see the weapons stockpile. He flicked a switch, and the room was flooded with light. She gave her eyes a moment to adjust to the brightness all around her, then they panned the shelves along the walls and the crates and boxes on the floor full of tools. She looked at the “weapons.” She had seen these items in the museum many years ago, and if she recalled correctly, they weren’t typically used in battle. Almost all of them had long wooden handles with metal forks or spades on the end.
“How do you fight with these things?” she asked blatantly.
“Well, I was hoping you could give us some ideas.” Erwin seemed embarrassed. “We were just gonna’. . . well, you know?”
She was perplexed. “You know, the Kayorians have real weapons.”
Erwin took her comment personally, “Many people put their lives at great risk to take these things. It took a lot of time and coordination to acquire them. If the Kayorians had noticed any of these items were missing, people would be beaten or worse. Through the six years we’ve been collecting, many people have been beaten. This is what we have.”
“Well,” her tone was apologetic, “in that case, I suppose you’ve done well. Still, we cannot fight with these things. We need weapons.”
She picked up one of the tools from a shelf. She examined it. It made her think of the guard she had killed and the feel of the metal cutting through his bone. Just thinking of it made her queasy. “Is there anyone who can re-shape this metal?” she asked. “Can we separate the metal from . . . these other parts? If someone could shape the metal into blades while we use these sticks to train.”
“Or we could make some guns.”
A man had entered the room. He was a bit shorter than Erwin, and his hair was dirty-blonde and wild. He was extremely thin, but somehow didn’t look weak. His eyes were deep blue and piercing. He and Erwin acknowledged each other.
Erwin introduced him, “Jake, this is Braii. The princess of Graiis.”
“I heard,” he replied. “Welcome. I have someone creating molds for guns. We won’t even have to get near the Kayorians to kill them. Just aim and shoot. We have a better chance of survival with guns.”
“How close are you to finishing the molds?” Erwin asked.
“Another month or so,” he replied. “We don’t have a lot of time to work on things, seeing as though we have to spend ten hours or more on the surface each day, slaving for the Kayorians.”
Erwin exhaled. “I think we should do whatever we can to cover all bases. We have about 8,000 people willing to fight. There are 300 million Kayorians on this planet, 10 million serve in the army. Even if the war was fought off planet, there’s no guarantee all of the Kayorians would be deployed to fight.” He turned to Braii, “How many soldiers make up the Griciian army?”
“There are about 4 million active soldiers in the Fiie army,” she replied.
Jake scoffed, “4 million soldiers. Rahilius definitely won’t need to send the whole army. He’ll probably send 5 million at the most.”
Braii recoiled at Jake's words, looking at him as if he had just smacked her in the face. “Don’t you know about the Fiie army?”
Both men looked at her with blank faces.
She let out a sigh of exasperation, “There is no stronger army.”
Erwin recalled her story about her escape from Rahilius’s house. She had killed seven of his guards, and she was not even a soldier. He immediately accepted her words as the truth and defended them. “It seems they have expert combat training and advanced weaponry,” he said to Jake.
“The Fiie,” she said, “This is the weapon of the Grii. And with this weapon, Grisian could send one-hundred-thousand soldiers to Rahilius’s five-million, and they would plow down the Kayorians until the last one is dead. You may not know of the power of the Fiie army, but Rahilius does.”
“Then perhaps he has something else planned,” Erwin said thoughtfully. “Or he will send all of his soldiers, and possibly recruit more. The second scenario would benefit us the most, but again, I think it’s important we do everything we can and cover all of our bases. This includes various options for weapons. We only have one chance to do this. If it fails, I’m sure human life will be annihilated on Kayora. We have to be decisive and intelligent with our next steps.”
After Jake had gone, Braii followed Erwin to his kitchen.
“I’ll fix us dinner,” he said. He washed his hands then took a few things from the small ice box. She sat down at the table and watched him cut up the vegetables he had placed on the countertop. He stood tall as he worked at an even pace, cutting one thing up after the other. His back and chest looked strong, and his handsome face was relaxed. She felt the color rush to her cheeks.
“Erwin,” she said, “can I help you?”
“Sure,” he replied with a warm smile, but didn’t look up from his cutting. “Can you light the oven?”
“Sure.” She went over to the round black oven in the corner of the room. When she opened it, she saw that there were a few pieces of wood inside sitting at the bottom, and a tray above it. She examined it, searching for the necessary mechanism to start it.
Erwin had paused his cutting, and was now watching her. “Do you need the matches?” he asked.
“Yes,” she replied quickly. “That’s what I was looking for.”
He handed her a small yellow box with a red stripe on each side. The box had the word “Matches” written on it. She was perturbed. She honestly had no idea how any of these things worked. She managed to slide the box open. There were several little wooden sticks with red tips in the box. Taking one out, she examined it. There must be a way to ignite the fire. There were no written instructions on the small box, and willing the fire to start wasn’t working. The frustration quickly mounted within her. She shook the wooden stick rapidly. Nothing.
Erwin just watched with a bright and boyish grin. “You don’t know how to light it, do you?”
She jumped at the sound of his voice. She had forgotten he was there with her. She struggled with her own pride, not wanting to admit she didn’t understand it. It must be outdated technology like everything else in the city, so her inability to operate it was embarrassing.
Erwin’s hands covered hers as he gently slid the box and match from her hands.
When she looked at him, his eyes were focused on her. She blushed, unable to bear the ardency of his gaze.
“Like this,” he said. The tone of his voice had changed, and was the same as it was the day they first met. Calm and even, but it rumbled from deep within his chest. “You take it. You run it across the strip on the side of the box . . . hard and fast.”
She swallowed the nervous lump that had formed in her throat, as he struck the match and it burned. She couldn’t imagine a more fitting symbol for the way she was feeling at that very moment. She watched him as he lit the wood in the small stove. Crouched down in front of it, he blew softly on the weak flames. She stood paralyzed. Her eyes fixed on him, trying to understand what it was precisely she was feeling. Her body cried out to him, but she reasoned in her mind it was an overreaction to the mere fact that he was handsome. Lincoln was handsome, but never made her feel this way. Unless, there was something more than attraction.
“How do you cook on Graiis?” he asked, pulling her from her thoughts as he poked at the wood in the oven with a metal rod.
“I’ve never cooked,” she said, returning to her seat. “Grisian thought it was too dangerous.”
He laughed out loud. “You’re an expert swordsman, woman, at twenty-five, but the kitchen is too dangerous?”
She shrugged casually and smiled. “I don’t know. Maybe it was because of my parents. They died in a fire when I was young. I know Grisian wasn’t human, but sometimes he did some very human things. He was very protective.”
Erwin put the food into the oven and shut it. He sat next to her at the table. “Well,” he said “I’ll teach you how to cook, and you can tell me about that weapon.”
She smiled and removed the Fiie from the pouch he had given her to wear with her clothing. She handed it to him, and they both stood.
“So,” she said, “it reads the pressure, temperature, and movement in your hands. It has to become a part of you. It collects data from patterns in your brainwaves, and learns what you want to do. Once it understands you, it starts to suggest movement, communicating impulses, which your hand, wrist, and body-,” she glided her finger lightly from the back of his hand down to his wrist as she spoke, “ -will either respond to, or reject. You learn it, and it learns you. The handle reads your intent through your fingertips. You don't need to press or squeeze anything to extend the blade. For beginners, this is hard to understand. So, if you flick your wrist, it can sometimes send the same signal as an intention. Try it.”
He reached out with the Fiie, holding it tightly in his palm. He flicked his wrist, and the blade extended. He could feel the added weight, and heat radiating from the blade.
“What is it made of?” he asked, examining the blade while slowly turning it.
“Diamond,” she replied. “Well, particles. They reflect heat back and forth between each other. The dust is blended with loosely magnetized transparent nanites. When the Fiie is in motion the particles fall back and smash into each other which makes the blade appear more visible. The higher the concentration of the blend, the greater the visibility when in motion, and the more dangerous it becomes. When you see the Fiie army fight, all of their blades look solid. They are so fast with their movements. It can cut through anything, really,” she stated, her eyes beaming with pride. “It is a beautiful, but dangerous weapon.”
Erwin retracted the Fiie and turned his attention to her. His eyes took in her entire form as he disregarded the weapon, placing the handle on the table as if he had never been interested in it to begin with. He put both of his arms around her waist and pulled her close to him in an embrace. Her mind went blank as she looked up at him. There was something very important she needed to say to him, but couldn’t remember what it was. He kissed her gently; a slow, tiny peck on her bottom lip. He feverishly looked in her eyes for just a moment to search for objections. Finding none, he started to kiss her aggressively and deeply. She embraced him, and her fingers raked wildly through his hair as his hands groped and caressed her body.
“Mama,” she heard.
They quickly broke from their kiss and embrace as Riian entered the kitchen. Her breath was shallow in her chest, and she was trembling all over.
She smiled at Riian. “Are you hungry? Sit down and eat. I think I’ll go have a bath,” she said nervously, escaping the kitchen as quickly as she could.
Foot arched and raised from the water, her toes curled then straightened. She sat in the bathtub thinking about Lincoln. It was strange. When she first arrived, everything Erwin did reminded her of how much she missed Lincoln, but today she had completely forgotten about him. She felt guilty, not just because she had her first real kiss. She was guilty of being disloyal to the memory of her husband, which somehow seemed worse. She tried to reason her way through her feelings. Perhaps she was suffering from the trauma of being taken from her planet, or the looming possibility she may never return. Pardoning herself, she attributed her raw impassioned behavior with Erwin, to some sort of Stockholm syndrome.
She could die in battle with the humans on Kayora, and was possibly living the last few weeks of her life. If that was so, then her only worry should be how to spend this time. She could spend it alone, thinking of her husband, or could accept comfort from another man. Comfort only, she told herself. I’m irrationally emotional now, and he is comforting me.
In the back of her mind, she knew if she stood with the people of Kayora, she would fall with them. They were all so unprepared, especially considering the Kayorians' skilled and barbaric history. If only there was a way to get some actual weapons.
Braii came into the kitchen. “Do the Kayorians have a weapons facility?” she asked.
Erwin and Riian looked up from their dinner. Erwin nodded, “Yes, several throughout the city.”
“Are they heavily guarded?” she asked.
“Not during the day I don’t think. But I can find out for sure,” he said slowly.
“Okay. You need to assemble your army. We need to start training, even if it’s with those things you have in the basement. This war should begin within a couple of weeks. If we can just get everyone trained, when the fighting starts, we can take the weapons facilities. As long as there are less than ten guards, we can take the facilities and everything inside.”
“I’ll send a spy,” he said. “We’ll find out exactly what types of weapons are inside. That should help us to know how we should train.” He stood. “I’ll talk to Pyotr now. Please sit, and eat.”
He left the kitchen, and she sat with Riian and ate her dinner.
Lincoln felt the ship touch ground. It had been a graceful landing. In fact, he hadn’t felt much movement at all since the ship had re-engaged its auto-pilot when the meteor dissolved. He didn’t feel the force of the heat that came from the bottom of the ship to incinerate the trees below it, creating a clear landing space.
He came out of the ship, taking only his Fiie with him in his pants pocket. He had mixed feelings. On one hand he was happy to be back on the ground, on the other hand, he was far away from home. Far away from safety, familiarity, and support. On his own. He breathed in the crisp fresh forest air.
A locator and communication device were built into a bracelet he wore on his arm. It would help to find the ship once he completed his mission. The bracelet was made of thick brown cloth on the outside, but underneath the cloth was the computer tracker and mini-projector.
According to the reports from the refugees, there should be several stairways leading to the underground where all of the slaves were forced to live. He just needed to find one of them. He walked for several miles until he came to the edge of the forest. There was a small town, not too far in the distance. He walked along the forest’s edge watching the village for any signs of life.
He couldn’t believe his eyes. There were children playing outside. What Luck, he thought to himself as he began to make his way toward the village. He felt a budding hesitation, but quickly dismissed it as paranoia. If there was a city
filled with people above ground, then at least some of the reports the refugees filed against Kayora were false. As he got closer, he saw a door on the ground below him with the words 19th stairway painted on it. He looked up at the village only several meters away. The children were now watching him, and a man had come from the house and was also watching him. His instinct told him to take the stairway and go below, but his curiosity pushed him in the direction of the town. “What harm could it cause?” he reasoned.
“Welcome,” the man said, as Lincoln approached. “Are you looking for the hotel?” he asked.
Lincoln didn’t respond.
“You just graduated from Edu-Camp, right?”
Lincoln nodded.
“Come on,” the man said. “I’ll show you the hotel. What’s your name?”
Lincoln hesitated. He didn’t want to give his real name. “Denzel DiCaprio Washington,” he said slowly. He didn’t know why he had used his friend Wash’s name. “What’s your name?” he asked the man.
“Ebert Weinstein,” he replied proudly. “Nice to meet you.”
Lincoln was happy he had used Wash’s name, especially after hearing the man’s name. It seemed perfect for this place.
The man took him to the hotel. It wasn't very large, and the architecture was not even as good as the human homes on Graiis. The inside was equally unimpressive, but it was clean. There was a young woman at the front desk. She had porcelain skin and Golden blonde hair. Her eyes were blue, and her lips were full. She was beautiful.
“Welcome to the Halfway house,” she said with a smile. “Name please?”