by Roxie Ray
“They're so big that their roots extend all the way down to the underground caverns where the natural springs are. That keeps them nourished, while their tough bark keeps them from being incinerated.”
“Nice. But how are we supposed to cross a desert like this without bursting into flames? Especially you – your people are sensitive to sunlight, aren't they?”
Zark swallowed hard. “Yes. We are. But unfortunately, you and I don't have much choice. We need to get away from the mouth of this cave, before the sentries realize we're gone and follow us up here. If we can make it to the shade of the tree, I can try to re-configure the comm system and reach someone. Plus, we'll be able to see if anyone's approaching from any direction.”
He was visibly ailing, barely able to talk between breaths. I wanted to reach out and touch him, to comfort and reassure him – but in this heat, I couldn't bear the thought of skin touching skin, and I figured he probably felt the same way.
“Zark. I can tell you're trying to put a brave face on it, but you're obviously in a lot of pain from the curse – not to mention the fight with that brute in the cave. Are you really sure you can walk that far without keeling over?”
“No. But unless you plan on carrying me – which I wouldn't recommend – I don't see how we have much choice, so we'd better get started.”
He took a deep breath and began trudging in the direction of the tree, his white flesh immediately turning pink, then red. I admired his bravery, his tenacity. I wished there were more I could do to support him.
But in that moment, I couldn't think of anything.
So I simply followed.
There was no way to know how much time passed while we were walking. The air shimmered with heat. I was sick, dizzy, burning up. All I could do was concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other and trying not to fall down – I had a nauseating certainty that if I did, I'd never be able to get up again. I'd just die in the hot sand, and remain there until I was nothing but a pile of bleached bones.
That goddamn tree never seemed to get any closer, no matter how far we walked. When I closed my eyes, up and down seemed to switch places, and I had to open them again to make sure I wasn't falling upward into the sky.
Zark managed to keep walking in a straight line, though how he did it, I had no idea. There was a buzzing in my skull, and I could barely muster the strength to keep inhaling and exhaling. My skin was deep crimson, savagely blistering and burning. How much longer could it be exposed to this kind of heat before it started sloughing off completely?
Just when I was feeling ready to give up, lie down, and die, I heard Zark's voice from what seemed like a great distance: “It's all right, Miranda. We're here.”
I looked up, and the trunk of the tree filled my entire field of vision. Maybe it was the heatstroke, but it almost seemed too big to be real. The ground under it was much cooler, thanks to the shade of its gargantuan leaves.
Zark gently let me to a spot at the base of the tree where the roots formed a natural seat, and lowered me into it. He looked so red, scaly, and miserable that I could barely recognize him. His normally-purple hair had been bleached almost white.
Maybe it's not really Zark at all, I thought. Maybe it's a devil. Maybe I'm in hell. That would explain why it was so damn hot.
I shook my head. No. That was insane. It was the heat talking. I needed to get a grip on myself.
Zark raised the blaster he'd taken off Skovakk's belt, aimed it at the lowest branch of the tree, and fired. The branch shuddered, cracked, and fell to the ground near us. He went to it, and I saw how much effort it took for him to keep from staggering and stumbling. When he reached it, he crouched down, scooped a handful of pale green pulp from the exposed center of the branch, and brought it over to me.
“Here, try to eat this,” he said. “I realize it's not overly appetizing – especially without a plate or utensils – but the Macurians consume it to stay hydrated.”
I scooped some out of his palm with my fingers and tasted it. It was bland and mushy, but at least it provided enough moisture to stop my mouth and tongue from feeling like sandpaper. I ate some more, and started to feel my strength and clarity return.
When I was well enough to sit up on my own, Zark nodded and helped himself to some of the pulp as well. “Well, it's not exactly blood, but I guess it'll have to do.”
“Tree blood,” I said, giggling. I was still feeling some of the delirious effects of heatstroke.
“Yes, tree blood,” he answered patiently. “I need to start working on the communication device. Do you feel well enough to feed yourself from the branch while I do that?”
I nodded, pulling myself to my feet. I was still feeling a bit wobbly, but I was determined to try.
Zark opened the small panel on the comm unit he'd taken from Skovakk and began tinkering with it. After a few minutes, he frowned, confused.
“What is it?” I asked around a mouthful of pulp. “Can't reach any Valkredians?”
“Actually, it's quite the opposite,” he said slowly. “I'm picking up a Valkredian signal from right here on the planet's surface.”
I raised my eyebrows, then instantly regretted it – thanks to my new sunburn, just moving my facial muscles made my skin ache. “Could it be Torqa? Some kind of trap?”
“I'm not sure. We changed our frequency protocols after she left to prevent her from playing such tricks on us. Still, she's extremely resourceful. So I suppose it is possible.”
“What should we do?”
Zark thought it over for a moment, then sighed wearily. “We have to try to send out an emergency signal so they can locate us. We can't just stay here. We need medical attention, and help defeating Torqa's private army. It's a chance we'll have to take.”
He reached in with one of his long fingers, made a few more adjustments, and flipped a switch. The comm unit hummed to life.
“There. No undoing it now,” he said grimly. “Nothing left to do but wait, and see who comes for us.”
So we waited for fate to determine what would become of us, while the air around us burned white-hot and time seemed to stand still.
Finally, Zark pointed a trembling finger at a shape in the distance, slowly getting closer. It looked like some kind of dune buggy with a wide canopy, kicking up a large trail of dust in its wake. Zark was holding his breath, and I realized that I was, too.
This was it. Either we were about to be rescued, or Torqa and her people were going to shoot us dead and leave us in the sand, and all this suffering would have been for nothing.
There was part of me that welcomed either outcome, if only to be spared from more of this heat.
The buggy pulled up, and a pair of figures emerged wearing silvery bodysuits and screened helmets that obscured their features. They had blaster rifles slung over their shoulders.
“Are those outfits Valkredian?” I asked.
Zark nodded. “Cooling suits, for extreme atmospheres like this one. But Torqa might have stashed some of those away as well, so be ready for anything.”
“At this point, Zark, if they're the bad guys, the only thing I'll be ready to do is faint on them.”
The two figures removed their helmets. Both were Valkredians. One had long, curly, reddish-brown hair, and intense brown eyes that flickered red in the sunlight. The other had short blonde hair, pale blue eyes, and a scowl that seemed permanently carved into his face.
I turned to Zark, searching his reaction to determine whether I should be frightened or relieved. Were these our saviors, sent by Akzun? Or more traitors who were loyal to Torqa?
Zark broke into a big grin. “Dhimurs! Surge! If I weren't so damn sweaty right now, I'd kiss you! What in the name of the Succubi are you two doing here?”
“Well, first of all, I'm grateful for anything that prevents you from kissing me, ever, under any circumstances,” the one with reddish hair said sourly. “And second, we're here looking for you, of course. When you left Valkred, Akzun ordered us to f
ollow you. At a discreet distance, naturally.”
“Why would he do that, Dhimurs? I told him I'd handle it myself! I had hoped no one else would need to risk their lives on this mission – it’s bad enough that Miranda is in danger because of me.”
“This is about far more than just your book and your curse, Zark. Yes, Akzun told us all about that as well,” Dhimurs added. “If someone doesn't put a stop to Torqa's machinations immediately, all of our lives will be at risk, along with the lives of everyone on Valkred. Mana, too, for that matter.”
“Which is less of a concern for us, but still,” Surge chimed in laconically.
“Now come, let's see what we can do to improve upon your current state,” Dhimurs went on. “You look like a boiled Nilvian Stone-Lobster. One that's already been half-eaten.”
“I appreciate the offer, but we can't return to your ship yet,” Zark insisted. “If there's a psychic trail Miranda can follow that will lead us to Torqa, we can't risk waiting any longer. We have to follow it before it grows cold.”
“I highly doubt anything ever grows cold on this misbegotten hunk of rock,” Surge said, looking around at the desert stretching out for miles around us.
I wanted to speak up, but I was still so overcome from the heat that I could barely even breathe. On one hand, Zark was right – the more time passed, the harder it would be for me to find and follow the afterimages of Torqa, especially if she or Respen were actively trying to block my clairvoyance.
On the other hand, my skin was in so much pain and my brain was so sunbaked that I wasn't sure I could muster nearly enough concentration to even try.
“So unless you happen to have a miniature field hospital stashed in your pocket…” Zark continued.
“As a matter of fact, my humorous friend, I do happen to have something rather like that.” Dhimurs walked back to the buggy leaned in, and pressed a button. The upper canopy folded itself out into a large six-sided tent with a reflective surface.
Zark's jaw dropped.
“Impressed?” Dhimurs asked with a smirk. “It's just a little side project I've been working on for a while. A prototype, if you will. Originally, we were going to make more of them to use as portable all-terrain medical units during the war with the Mana. Glad we can still get some use out of this one, at least.”
“And if the treaty doesn't last, who knows?” Surge added. “They might still come in handy.”
“I… don't understand,” I said, finally catching my breath. “You're… loyal to Akzun… but… you're rooting against his treaty with the Mana?”
“Don't mind Surge,” Dhimurs said. “He just loves a fight, and doesn't much care who it's with. Peace time doesn't agree with him – it makes him fidgety. Now, are we going to patch you two up, or are we going to stand here roasting in our own juices like swamp-leeches on a spit?”
Roughly an hour later, we were sitting in the tent – hydrated, covered in salve, and generally feeling much better. Zark had filled them in on everything that had happened to us since we left Valkred (which already felt like years ago).
Whatever balm Dhimurs had applied to our skin was miraculous. My sunburn was almost completely gone, and Zark was back to his normal pale hue. Surge injected a syringe with a long needle into the base of Zark's skull, causing Zark to wince.
“I know it doesn't feel great,” Dhimurs said, “but it should dull the pain from the curse enough for you to function more efficiently. We can't have you limping around like an old woman, now can we?”
Zark flexed his fingers, then his wrists, elbows, and shoulders, beaming a big smile. “Amazing!” he exclaimed. “I haven't felt this good in a long time. Thank you!”
“Don't get too used to it. The effects are temporary, and too many injections of this serum will damage your internal organs as surely as the curse will.” Dhimurs turned to me. “Now then… Miranda, is it? I've been told you have certain abilities that will help us find Torqa. Is that true?”
“Yes.” I was becoming uncomfortable with the number of people who knew about my clairvoyance, but this didn't seem like the time to concern myself with that.
Dhimurs shook his head slowly. “A human with psychic powers. Now I've seen everything. Truly, this is a strange and wondrous universe. At any rate, how do your gifts work? What can you do to track her?”
“Well, I sort of… look for past images of her, I guess, to see where she's been and where she was heading. If I'm really lucky, maybe I can even get a sense of what she was thinking at the time.”
“Then let's pray to all the Succubi that you're feeling lucky today,” he answered. “Because if Torqa has both the Wrath and this ‘Dezmodon’ at her command, she has enough power at her disposal to bring the entire galaxy to its knees.” He handed me one of the cooling suits. “So put this on, try as hard as you can to locate her, and let's put an end to her little reign of terror once and for all.”
I stepped into the suit and pulled it up over me. I don't know what it was lined with, but the effect was refreshing almost to the point of being intoxicating – not harsh cold like a freezer, but a gentle, full-body cooling that cleared my head and made my skin tingle. There was a scent like freshly cut cucumbers.
Now I could concentrate. At last, I could find the bitch who'd brought so much horror and misery upon us.
I fastened the helmet and stepped out into the sunlight. The visor seemed to somehow flatten the glare, making it much easier to see all around me.
I took a deep breath and scanned the desert. After a few moments, images started to appear. The effect was disorienting – at first, it looked like thousands, maybe even millions, of soldiers marching relentlessly from one horizon to the other.
Christ, how had Torqa managed to recruit so many? How could we possibly hope to stop them, when there were enough of them to stretch out into infinity like that?
Then their faces came into focus more sharply, and I realized there were only a couple dozen of them – I was merely seeing all of their afterimages at once from the various phases of their progress across the wasteland.
I breathed a sigh of relief. If we got out of this alive, I really would have to get a better grip on these abilities of mine. It was a big galaxy. There had to be someone who could help me understand them and use them more efficiently.
“Well?” Dhimurs snapped impatiently. “What do you see?”
I pointed in the direction Torqa and her forces had been headed. “That way. Definitely.”
“All right, let's get going, then.” Dhimurs hit the button on the dashboard of the buggy, and the tent folded in on itself, disappearing quickly. We all got into the vehicle and Surge revved the engine, driving us off toward the horizon.
“Shouldn't we be worried that they'll see us coming?” Zark asked. “This terrain doesn't exactly provide much cover.”
“Not a problem, I assure you.” Dhimurs smiled, hitting another button. The area surrounding the buggy shimmered.
“Some sort of cloaking device?” Zark sounded astonished. “When did you develop this kind of tech?”
“We cobbled most of it together from what we found on those saboteurs you and Akzun neutralized at the mines recently,” Dhimurs explained. “We still haven't figured out how to expand it to disguise an entire starship – even a short-range fighter – but we managed to put just enough of it together to wrap around a planet-based vehicle of this size. Even so, it's not quite perfect… there's still a faint outline and some blurring, but as long as we don't get too close with it, it'll probably blend in with the rippling effects of the heat on the horizon.”
“Dhimurs, you are full of surprises!” Zark laughed. “But what made you decide to use this camouflage on a mobile field hospital?”
“Because mobile field hospitals – like escape pods – are largely defenseless, and can be targeted by enemies when they're ruthless enough,” Surge growled. “It's what I'd do. No survivors, no mercy.”
I inched a bit farther away from Surge on the bu
ggy's wide front seat. I was immensely grateful that we'd been saved from death in the desert, but this guy was starting to give me the creeps. The cold look in his flat blue eyes told me he'd taken a lot of lives – and that he couldn't wait to take a whole lot more.
As we kept rolling along, I continued to track the afterimages, and Surge made course corrections accordingly. After about an hour, we reached a ridge overlooking a canyon.
“Stop!” I called out. “This is it! We're here! If we get any closer, they might see us!”
Surge cut the engines and we got out, lying flat on our stomachs and carefully peering down into the deep canyon. Sure enough, Torqa was there, surrounded by her mercenaries. With the exception of the Lunians and the Mana, it seemed like there were members of just about every known alien species – plus a handful of what looked like robots. A sleek-looking Valkredian drop shuttle was parked down there as well, with a couple of tents set up next to it.
“This is it,” Zark murmured. “Time to go get that damn book.”
“No,” Dhimurs said firmly.
Zark turned to him and raised an eyebrow incredulously. “What do you mean, ‘no?’”
“Just what I said: No. It's not time to do anything but send a signal to Akzun and call for reinforcements. We can't risk going down there with no plan and no backup. That would be extremely foolish. There are only four of us – and no offense to your human friend, but only three of us are actually warriors. Not even Surge can take on two dozen heavily-armed killers for hire by himself.”
Surge bared his teeth at Dhimurs menacingly.
“Well, all right, perhaps he can,” Dhimurs conceded, “but it's still not a risk I'm willing to take.”
“Maybe you're not, but I am,” Zark retorted. “We have no way of knowing how long it'll take for Akzun to rally his forces and get here. And even with that miracle serum you pumped into me, I can still feel the curse working, making me weaker by the minute. I don't have any time left. I need that book now, before I'm too agonized and feeble to even make it back to Yuluna and give it to Respen. Besides, if Torqa intercepts your signal, we'll have lost our one chance at surprising her. Keep Miranda safe. I'm going down there.”