by Ste Sharp
‘Samas!’ Jakan-tar shouted. ‘Time to talk.’
‘I’ll be right there,’ Samas called back and tightened his sword belt.
He’d never wanted to be one of the high-born leaders, detached and arrogant, coolly making decisions which cost other men their lives, yet here he was, an equal with the leaders of each species. The pit of his stomach tensed when he thought about it – having that level of power didn’t feel right. He was good at making life-or-death decisions in the blink of an eye, but that was instinct. These meetings were different: they were long and protracted ordeals where every leader gave their thoughts and decisions were made through consensus. Samas huffed, realising he couldn’t change how he felt – he would just have to approach the meeting as though he were going into battle.
‘Samas.’ Nine-five welcomed him as he joined the ever-increasing group of decision-makers who walked at the head of the army: Nine-five; Jakan-tar; Peronicus-Rax; the brothers, Das and Pod; and Lavalle and Gal-qadan riding a tocka on either flank.
‘No need for the armour, human,’ one of the huge, armadillo-like brothers said with a chuckle.
‘You never know in this land,’ Samas replied. ‘Isn’t that right, Jakan-tar?’ Samas threw a small stone at the short Sorean and smiled when it triggered his green shield.
Good to see the shields working again, he thought.
‘And if I did that to you,’ Samas said to Nine-five, ‘I expect the stone would be vaporised in less than a second?’
‘Along with your arm, no doubt,’ the other brother said with a smile.
Samas shook his head. ‘Not this arm, my friend.’ He bent down and tapped the dusty ground with his forefinger, creating an inch-wide crack.
‘Enough of this,’ Peronicus-Rax’s deep voice made Samas flinch. ‘We have wasted enough time. When do we travel to the tower?’ He gestured at the distant shaft of white set in the myriad shining semicircular domes off their right flank.
‘When we’re ready,’ Nine-five replied.
Samas felt the tension rising so asked, ‘Isn’t Delta-Six joining us?’
‘He’s with my scouts,’ Nine-five said.
‘Well, let’s hope they find water,’ Samas said and pointed a thumb at the horde behind them, ‘because we’ll need it.’
Jakan-tar said, ‘And we’ll need adequate resources if we’re to travel across this desert.’
‘As I explained before,’ Peronicus-Rax said, ‘we must search for the Ascent if we are to find out why we are here.’
Nine-five looked at Peronicus-Rax and said, ‘Yet you give us little information. We Lutamek need little sustenance, so are prepared to make the journey, but we believe more information can be found here, near our dome.’
‘I gave you a bio-sample,’ Peronicus-Rax said.
‘Yes,’ Nine-five replied, ‘and it was most useful. I can confirm our theory is upheld – our five species’ replicating-protein synthesis methods hold high levels of similarity.’
Samas struggled to understand what the Lutamek was talking about, so he stayed silent, nodded and let one of the other leaders ask the questions.
‘Also, and possibly more surprising, we found matching strings of genetic information in all five samples.’
‘So we’re related?’ Jakan-tar asked.
‘No,’ Nine-five replied, ‘each string of code manifests itself with differing functional purpose in each species, but we calculate each version of the string did not evolve naturally.’
‘Which means?’ One of the brothers asked.
‘The information was added manually… possibly through viral activity,’ Ten-ten said.
Peronicus-Rax didn’t look surprised, Samas thought.
‘Interstellar viral communities are not rare,’ the large, one-eyed soldier said. ‘If our home worlds are within the same portion of the galaxy, it’s highly likely an ancestral virus would be found on all of our worlds.’
‘Yes,’ Nine-five replied, ‘but the natural level of mutation in each species suggests it was added at the same time in our ancestors’ past… within a few thousand years.’
Samas didn’t understand.
‘Which means?’ Jakan-tar asked.
‘The same virus could not be naturally distributed across our worlds at that same time, so it’s highly likely such a simultaneous manipulation to our genetic code was carried out by a sentient mind.’
Samas had lost his patience. ‘That’s great,’ he said, ‘I’m glad we’re getting closer to finding out why we’re here, but we must concentrate on our current situation.’
‘These questions need to be answered,’ Nine-five replied.
‘We can’t eat answers,’ Samas replied and noticed the brothers chuckle.
Nine-five didn’t respond and seemed focussed on the horizon. Samas saw lights flashing on his head and wished they still had Mihran’s thought-cast system.
‘My scouts are in constant communication,’ Nine-five eventually said. ‘They comb the immediate area around the dome, as they have done throughout the night, and are close to fully circumnavigating it. So far only one location has proven fruitful.’
‘What have they found?’ Peronicus-Rax asked.
‘They have discovered a host of discarded transportation vessels.’
‘And they’ll be able to take us home?’ Samas asked and felt all eyes turn to him.
He regretted the question instantly when Jakan-tar said, ‘The time for returning home is long past, Samas.’
Samas was on the back foot but parried and hit back. ‘It was always an option,’ he said, ‘and nothing can be ruled out in this world.’ He desperately thought of a more useful question. ‘So, these vessels – do they hold rations?’
*
John walked with Osayimwese and Crossley, following the leaders’ path around the perimeter of the immense dome. As they walked, he could see more of the distant, solitary domes which lay in the opposite direction from the tower and cluster of domes.
Now, a new view had appeared: lines in the desert which were becoming rows of rectangular shapes.
‘What are they?’ Osayimwese asked.
‘Well they aren’t domes,’ Crossley replied. ‘Which makes a change.’
As they neared and the shapes became clearer, John recognised them.
‘Aren’t they the same as that spaceship we saw land last night?’ John asked and pointed at the distant dome off to their right.
He squinted and could see that the cap on top of the dome was empty now.
‘Yeah, they look about the same,’ Crossley said.
‘And they’re lined up,’ Osayimwese said, ‘like a sleeping army.’
John thought back to the dead, mammoth-like creatures they had camped in when they’d met Peronicus-Rax. ‘We can use them as shelter,’ he said.
‘If you can break into them,’ Crossley said. ‘If they travel in space, they’ve got to be airtight, so it’ll be damn near impossible to break into them.’
‘The Lutamek will find a way,’ Osayimwese said.
‘Maybe.’
‘Do you think they’ll get one to fly?’ John asked.
‘Who knows,’ Crossley replied. ‘Anything would be better than walking across that desert.’
They remained silent as the army veered away from the dome, down a long descent to the regimented spaceships. John guessed his mates were thinking the same as him: what was the point in all of this if they couldn’t get home? If they had nobody to fight, what purpose did they have other than survival?
As they neared, John thought the long, rectangular, grey shapes looked like battleships out of water. Except these blocks didn’t taper towards the bottom and were covered with scores of dark squares – portholes or doors perhaps.
‘They’re hundreds of paces long!’ Osayimwese said.
‘Pretty huge,’ John agreed.
‘Gather round!’ Lavalle shouted as they joined the rest of the army where a rude camp had been constructed near the first line
of spacecraft. ‘All equipment here, please.’ He gestured for the carts to be parked next to one of the craft – which loomed over them at least thirty feet high.
Samas addressed the group. ‘Have a drink and take a rest, we’ll be here overnight, so make yourselves comfortable.’
‘We are studying the starships – please do not touch them,’ Nine-five said.
‘And be prepared for guard duty,’ Jakan-tar added.
‘Over to you,’ Samas said to Lavalle then shouted, ‘John, Crossley – with me.’
Crossley gave John a quizzical look but they both dumped their bags and marched over.
‘What is it?’ John asked.
‘Seeing as how inquisitive you two were when we found that castle, we found something I thought you might want to see,’ Samas said and gave a smile.
John smiled back, feeling warmth for their captain. If only some of his officers had been more like him, he thought as they wound their way around the rows of identical-looking vessels. Even though each craft had been parked twenty paces apart, it felt to John like he was back in the trenches. He stared at them in awe.
‘This had better be good,’ Crossley whispered and started his echo-location coughing.
‘The Lutamek have been busy and found something important,’ Samas said as they walked.
Around the next corner, John saw Ten-ten with an orange-shouldered Lutamek he didn’t recognise.
‘Right then,’ Samas said.
‘Are you ready to enter?’ Ten-ten asked and gestured at what looked like a door set in the grey wall.
‘What, we’re going in there?’ John asked.
‘Yes,’ Samas replied to John and Ten-ten, and Crossley gave John another look.
The orange-shouldered Lutamek touched a panel to the left of the huge doors. John saw a wave of blue energy dance between the robot’s huge finger and the black square, which flashed with red and green lights in response. With a low clunk and a long hiss, the door of the huge spacecraft opened.
‘Confirmation,’ the orange robot spoke with a creaking voice, ‘this craft was assigned to sector 684, section 832, quadrant beta.’
‘What does that mean?’ John asked, ignoring Crossley’s coughing.
‘It means,’ Samas said, ‘that this is the ship which brought us from Earth.’
Chapter 3
The smell hit John as soon as he stepped into the gloom: a mix of tarnished metal and excrement that reminded him of the cramped belowdecks on the ship his battalion had crossed the English Channel in. He squinted and tried to get his bearings.
‘The Lutamek confirmed only one ship was used for each species,’ Crossley said as he led John by torchlight down a long tunnel lined with walls of white ceramic. ‘And Samas said it was every soldier’s right to visit our own pod.’
‘I’m not sure I want to,’ John replied, running his fingertips along the smooth wall.
‘Listen, we spent more time stuck in here than we did in our entire life on Earth, so it’s an important place to visit.’
‘I guess so,’ John replied. ‘Are you sure it’s safe?’
‘Yeah, they opened it up easy enough, and Ten-ten already sent a crawler drone in and didn’t find any booby traps.’ Crossley laughed. ‘And who’s gonna give up a chance like this? I mean, explore a real working spaceship? Ha!’
John looked back down the long corridor at the rectangle of light where they’d entered and felt a wave of claustrophobia wash over him. ‘But why us?’ he asked. ‘We’re expendable, are we?’
‘Probably…’ Crossley said slowly, distracted by something up ahead.
John craned his neck and made out dozens of curved lines reflecting the light from Crossley’s torch, reminding John of the domes outside.
‘These must be the pods Samas talked about,’ Crossley said as John followed his torchlight around. ‘This place is huge!’
The corridor funnelled out to the full width of an incredibly long room housing scores of egg-shaped metal pods lining the side walls. Each pod was as high as John’s chest and had to be seven foot deep, capped with a glass shell.
‘I can’t see the other end of the room,’ John said, wishing he had his own torch.
‘So this is the stasis hall,’ Crossley said. ‘That’s what Ten-ten called it.’
John remembered the term but he’d focussed on what Ten-ten had called ‘live technology’ within the ship, and he now had visions of being pulled back into his pod by tentacle arms. He shivered at the thought and walked to the nearest pod.
‘So we spent thousands of years asleep in one of these?’ John said, not understanding how such a thing was possible.
Crossley shone his torch into the pod, lighting up a host of pipes and wires splayed out across what looked like a soft, red bed. ‘I always imagined us frozen in a block of ice… hard to think we were laying here for millennia.’
John felt a cold chill creep up his back, like when he’d been strapped to Panzicosta’s torture table. ‘Why can’t I remember this place?’ he asked.
‘I’m guessing we were knocked out by the flash and put straight in here,’ Crossley replied.
John stared at the bed inside the pod and thought about the people and events he’d missed at home since being taken. While he’d been asleep in one of these pods, his war had carried on like a merciless death machine, and his parents would have received a letter from the army, saying he was missing and presumed dead. How long would they have waited before telling Joe? Did they wait until after the war? Did they have a funeral? Was his name engraved under Rosie’s on her headstone? Did Joe put flowers on the grave every year just like he did at the Cenotaph?
John sighed. The world had moved on while he had been stuck in this machine. While it floated above Earth, Joe and Crossley’s war had raged across the globe, followed by Li’s war, Delta-Six’s war and countless others… Lost in his thoughts, John gazed at the panels and buttons. His hand reached out…
‘Don’t!’ Crossley shouted. ‘Samas said we can’t touch anything, remember?’
‘Yeah, sorry,’ John said, pointing at the glass panel below the button. ‘But look at this.’
Crossley aimed his torch and they crouched to get a better look.
‘Mihran ibn al-Hassan.’ John read the name shining through the glass plate in yellow font.
‘This was Mihran’s pod,’ Crossley said and stood up. ‘They’re named! Come on, let’s find ours.’
‘I’ll take this side,’ John said and squinted to read the first name: Sir William Lavalle.
‘Euryleia’s over here and some I’ve never heard of,’ Crossley shouted over.
John shook his head as he read a new one. ‘Never heard of him,’ he said and carried on along the long line, noticing other details on the panels which lit up the front face of each pod.
‘There’s no pattern here,’ Crossley said. ‘I mean, they’re not in chronological order or sorted by continent; it doesn’t make sense.’
‘They’ve all got name panels though,’ John said. ‘Do you think it left Earth when they filled all the pods up?’
‘Maybe,’ Crossley replied and shone his torch into the darkness. ‘I guess we’ll find out when we get to the end.’
John checked the next pod, which had belonged to Althorn, and heard a distant knocking sound and froze. ‘What’s that?’ He crouched and aimed his gun-arm at the narrow corridor they’d come down. ‘Is someone stuck in here?’
‘I can see a silhouette,’ Crossley said and moved forward, his gun gripped under his torch.
John could see a shape moving up from the corridor. ‘Who’s there?’ he called out.
The torch beam lit up Samas and John relaxed.
‘It’s just me,’ Samas said. ‘The Lutamek are restoring power, so I thought I’d join you. What have you found?’
‘We’ve just got the pods the crawler drone found.’ Crossley shone his light on the pods nearest to Samas. ‘And they’ve got nameplates.’
‘We’re just working our way down the rows,’ John said as a low humming noise ran up the ship.
‘Cover your eyes,’ Samas said.
John slapped his good hand over his eyes as a brilliant white light exploded around them. Tentatively, John peeled his fingers back and let his eyes adjust.
‘Well, it’s less intimidating with the lights on,’ Crossley said and stood, hands on hips, surveying the long room, which ended closer than John had supposed.
‘Right, well, we’ll need an inventory,’ Samas said and handed Crossley what looked to John like a sheet of metal. ‘Just hold it in front of each nameplate and it will send the names to the Lutamek.’
‘Okay,’ Crossley said with a wry smile and a shake of his head. ‘I’m still getting used to their technology, so God knows what it’s like for you.’
John could tell Samas wanted to keep a brave face, but he glanced at John’s gun-arm and his shoulders dropped.
‘It’s a lot to take in, if I’m honest, but we adapt, don’t we?’ Samas said and looked around. ‘Seeing as I’m here, why don’t we find our own pods and then I’ll leave you to it?’
‘Okay.’
John turned back to the line of pods. There were at least another eighty to check, so he carried on reading the names. He recognised most as he sidestepped along the line, remembering those they had lost in battle, like Tode and Sakarbaal, as well as those who were alive and well, waiting outside the ship. He was getting into the rhythm of it, listening to the echoing steps of his robot foot and Crossley’s and Samas’ footsteps, when he saw two words which sent his heart racing.
John Greene.
He’d known his pod would be here, but seeing it made his head rush. He felt his cheeks warm as he said, ‘I’ve found mine.’
John peered inside the pod as Crossley and Samas joined him. He’d half expected to see something different in his – maybe something that would trigger a memory – but it contained the same red bed and wires as the other pods.
Crossley put his hand on John’s shoulder. ‘Strange feeling, hey?’