Destiny Reckoning

by Trevor Gregg

  But there were too many, and soon enough one managed to land a blow with a club on the back of Utien’s head. He crumpled to his knees while the nar'raxi surrounded him. A barrage of blows from clubs came from the many members of the crowd, pummeling Utien to the ground. He ceased moving.

  “Please, enough. Take him away!” Joraq’s voice called as the crowd parted to let the real Joraq through. “Do not fear, I know you were not in on the deception, I know you did not come here to kill me.”

  She approached and motioned for them to follow.

  “Utien was a fool, but I know you are here for different reasons. Come with me and I’ll show you your quarters. It is late and I’m sure you’re tired. We shall continue our meeting in the morning.”

  20

  Lodgings

  Elarra followed the others, contemplating the gravity of the situation. Joraq held their lives in her hands. With a mere word from her they’d be swarmed by nar'raxi, torn limb from limb by the angry mob.

  But Elarra was afraid, truly afraid. She knew she was in real danger. Joraq had lived for thousands of years, it was rumored, and she didn’t doubt the rumors. What had that done to her mind?

  She was afraid, because she had not appeared in any of the messages from their future-past selves. Did that mean she didn’t make it? Or didn’t go with them, wherever the others went? She didn’t know, and not knowing was so frustrating. She had always had a certainty, a reassuring knowledge that all would go according to what she had seen.

  Now she was facing an adversary that had every advantage on her. Yet, they still needed something from Joraq, some information or vision or something. This was going to be tricky.

  “This way, here are your quarters,” Joraq crooned, pointing.

  A low cinder block building stood amid the overgrowth, green vines and broad leaves framing the doorway. The rusty metal door swung open, several female raxi, clad only in loincloths motioned for them to enter. Gentle torchlight glowed from inside.

  They entered, each one of them tentatively, nerves wound tight. Elarra didn’t think it was a trap, but she certainly worried about what would come next.

  “Please, rest and be well. We shall continue in the morning.”

  With that, Joraq and her entourage of nar'raxi departed, disappearing into the darkness.

  “Okay, so what’s the plan?” Kyren prompted.

  “No plan, we do as she suggests. We wait,” Elarra replied somberly. “We are entirely at her mercy, though I do fear what she has planned for us.”

  “Great, that’s just great. We don’t even know what we’re supposed to get from her,” Kyren complained, frustration painting his face.

  “Actually, we’ll be okay, right Benjam?” Alis interjected.

  “What do you mean?” Benjam squeaked back, as they entered the building.

  The nar'raxi women offered them trays of food and pointed to several doorways lining a short hall. They made the motion of sleeping and then nodded. They bowed and backed out of the room.

  “So we made a message to ourselves, from the past right?” she answered.

  “Ah, yes, I see what you’re getting at. We obtain what she can offer because we made the message. So we’ll be okay, right Elarra?” Benjam responded.

  “Yes, you will, all of you. But I’m not so sure about myself,” Elarra admitted. “I’ve not shown up in any of the videos from the future-past. I’m afraid I may not leave here.”

  “Well, we’re not going to let that happen,” Kyren said confidently.

  “You may not have a choice in the matter,” she replied sadly.

  “Should we trust the food?” Alis asked. “I’m starving.”

  “I think it’s okay, I’m sure she could do us in with a wave of her hand, poison seems a little redundant,” Kyren theorized.

  “You are likely right,” Elarra agreed.

  They ate the small gelatinous leaf-wrapped gobs and strange fruit from the worn platters. Shortly after eating, she decided to rest, it was likely tomorrow would be difficult, and perhaps even deadly, if she didn’t play her cards right.

  The lodgings were sparse but comfortable enough for her, no worse than what she had lived in with the Pygars, anyway. Exhaustion overwhelmed her and she was out shortly after her head hit the pillow.

  21

  Sharing

  Kyren awoke with a start, immediately reaching for his rifle.

  “No need for that, man. I’m just here to relay a message, man, so don’t get all aggro, my friend, no need for that,” Mac said in his run on speech.

  He sat up and blinked, waiting for his eyes to focus. Mac held an electric lantern and although dim, its glow still hurt his eyes. He squinted at Mac and climbed out of bed. He stretched and bent, trying to un-kink himself. Sleeping in his armor had been quite uncomfortable.

  But he wanted to be ready for anything. They’d likely need to make a quick getaway, probably under fire, so he wasn’t going to get caught with his pants down. Literally or figuratively, he decided.

  “What, what’s this message? And what time is it?” he asked, unsure as the cinder-block building had been constructed without windows.

  “It’s the middle of the night man, like the witching hour and all that shit. This is when it goes down, man.”

  “What goes down? You’re confusing me, Mac.”

  “Sorry man, it’s just so exciting, such an exciting time,” he apologized. “Joraq wants you to come see something, man. Follow me.”

  “What about the others?”

  “Just for you, she said. A personal visit from her highness herself! You should be amazed, man. You should bow down, be like, I’m not worthy and all that shit.”

  “Um, okay. How about I don’t, and you just take me to her,” he replied, getting annoyed.

  “Okay, okay,” he said as he led Kyren from the bunker into the night.

  They walked for some time through the overgrown buildings, mostly single story cinder-block but some two story glass and steel, many windows shattered or broken out.

  “So what is this place, anyway?” Kyren asked as they walked.

  “It’s like, a historical site. The old gods used this place to make war, but they forgot some shit, man. Oh man, I gave it away… sorry,” he said, sounding consternated.

  They approached a huge pool of darkness, and as they approached he could see it was the edge of some vast chasm. Mac led him to the edge, where Joraq stood with several figures.

  “Hello Kyren, thank you for coming to witness this… demonstration,” Joraq spoke, her gravelly voice matching the age on her face.

  “See man, look,” Mac said, grabbing a torch from a nar'raxi and tossing over the edge.

  Kyren watched as it fell, illuminating the sides of great spacecraft. This was a massive silo, and it still contained a massive star cruiser. Incredible. She was sitting on the greatest tactical advantage in the sector. No wonder Arkanon wanted her land. He wanted the ship.

  “I am loath to admit it, but here we must have order. We must have rule. Or the people will degenerate into savages. It is my influence alone that keeps them civilized. To keep them in line, it is necessary to make examples.”

  Two nar'raxi pulled a cloak from the third figure, revealing Utien, half naked and bound tightly. One of the two guards grabbed his hands and forced him down to his knees.

  “You’ll never defeat Arkanon, he’ll have your head, if not now, then another day. He’ll get you, eventually,” Utien snarled, spitting at Joraq.

  “Take it!” she screamed.

  One of the guards drew a short, heavy blade and flicked a switch on the side. It began to hum and blur as the blade vibrated. Damn! Vibro-blade, that could shear straight through plexi-steel even.

  The guard swung and Utien’s head fell from his body, severed by one clean blow. He sheathed the blade and helped the other hurl the headless body over the edge. Seconds later he heard a thud.

  “Place it upon a spike, let it be a warning,” Joraq
said to the nar'raxi, then turned to Kyren. “Isn’t it glorious? What a message I’ve sent. They know it now, they do. They are watching. I am sanctified, I am impervious. And it pains me so.”

  “You just wanted me to witness your barbarism, and now you want me to sympathize with you? You’re crazier than I thought you’d be,” he retorted.

  “I could take your head and throw you into the pit, boy! You should learn to hold your tongue. Have respect for your elders,” Joraq screeched, a helter-skelter look in her eyes.

  The nar'raxi advanced on him, and he fell into a fighting stance.

  “No man, don’t do it, you guys, relax, it’s all okay, people,” Mac said, stepping between the nar'raxi and Kyren.

  “Very well,” Joraq acquiesced, waving off the guards.

  Kyren dropped his hands but retained his defensive stance.

  “I have more to show you, more than just this,” she waved at the pit. “Come.”

  They left the pit and delved deeper into the complex, low buildings replaced by towering hangars and massive scaffoldings. They stopped before a large hangar. One of the nar'raxi knocked on the rusted metal door and it swung open.

  Joraq led Kyren inside. The space was vast and dark, but in the center, illuminated by torchlight, sat two mechanized chairs. They were covered in wires and components, a small inverted head basket above each headrest. These were rho’kar.

  “Sit and let us share. There is much for you to see,” Joraq croaked as she made her way to one of the chairs.

  Kyren walked to the other and sat down tentatively. What was he about to witness? Would it be like when he had absorbed memories from Elarra? Or would this be different? He leaned back and let the basket settle just above his head.

  “Let the seeing begin!” Joraq screeched.

  Kyren’s mind was suddenly elsewhere. His senses someone else’s, at least he thought at first. Then he realized he was seeing through his own eyes.

  A wide sandy beach stretched out before him, the sky streaked with high clouds and lit by three bright moons. The waves lapped lazily up the gently sloped beach, retreating and advancing again. He saw himself, Alis, and Benjam. They were ridden down and netted by strange blue-skinned beings on six-legged mounts.

  More images, impressions and sounds blurred past him, but he couldn’t make them out. The blurring ceased, and he was elsewhere. A stone city, elaborately carved and elegantly decorated sprawled out before him.

  Again he saw the strange blue skinned humanoids that had captured them within their nets. They were dressed in what must be taken for finery, elegant looking robes trimmed in gold. At least most of them were. There were many who were in simple tan robes. There was an arena, and a bot fight going on. Then the blurring happened again, sounds of battle fading as he left the vision.

  Then, he was a giant robot, facing off against a myriad of tiny foes, both airborn and on land. He crushed tiny foes with his mighty foot as he thundered across a desolate rocky plain. A massive warp portal opened before him, and a massive bot, his twin, stepped through.

  Before he could see more, before he could see the battle, he was again in another place, this time he recognized Isa’s bridge. A star chart was displayed on the main viewscreen.

  “There,” he heard himself say. “And then there, and from there to here. And then one last hop there, the final system. Then from there into the Trifid Nebula. Near the center is a star forming region. Joraq showed me that is where the Traveler lies. She has an energy signal unique enough to identify, and follow, apparently.”

  He retraced the route, locking it into memory. That was important, he knew. So they had to find someone called the Traveler.

  “And this Traveler will help us get where we need to go? Or rather, when?” Alis asked him.

  “Yeah, this is the only way,” he replied.

  The vision faded and he returned to his own senses. A wave of nausea hit him and he lost the contents of his stomach on the floor. His head swam and he felt himself lie back in the chair, just before blacking out to the sound of Joraq cackling.

  22

  Joraq’s Request

  Elarra woke with a start as the door opened. One of the nar'raxi women motioned to her to follow, urgency in her gesture. She decided it best to acquiesce, so she shook off the sleep and followed.

  The nar'raxi woman led Elarra deeper into the compound to a two story glass building, the facade shattered and broken. The nar'raxi motioned for her to enter through an empty doorway, the door lying on the ground outside.

  Elarra entered warily. The room opened to a large workshop, tools and machinery scattered throughout the tables and shelves. Joraq stood by a rolling cart containing several small objects she couldn’t quite make out.

  “Elarra, thank you for being so cooperative. We may yet both get what we wish,” Joraq crooned.

  “And what is that?” she retorted suspiciously.

  “To the point, eh? You don’t want to ask me exactly how old I am? You don’t want to know what it is like, to be the first of our kind? You don’t want to know what I’ve seen, what I’ve been through? What my visikaji is? Very well.”

  “Good, let’s hear it. Let me know what you want and I’ll give it to you. Give us the next step in our journey,” Elarra pleaded.

  “Do not fear, I have already given Kyren the necessary directions to the Traveler. The Traveler will take you where you must go.”

  “Very well, so you’ve given me what I want, now what do you want in return?” Elarra replied, dreading whatever the answer may be.

  “I want you to kill me,” Joraq stated abruptly.

  “You what?” Elarra questioned, finally noticing two items on the cart. A syringe full of fluorescent green liquid, and a small knife.

  “You’ll kill me now. Or I’ll kill you!” she snarled at Elarra, grabbing the syringe.

  Elarra’s hand darted out like a snake and snatched the knife from the table. She scurried backward as Joraq lunged with the syringe, swinging wildly. She transferred the knife to her right hand and picked up a short section of composite fiber pipe lying on the floor.

  Joraq charged and Elarra waited until the last second. She swung the light but strong pipe in a downward strike, connecting with Joraq’s wrist, sending the syringe flying. Joraq barreled into her and went for her knife, snarling.

  She attempted to grapple with Joraq and lost both the pipe and knife. They struggled, back and forth, Joraq attempting to overpower Elarra. And she was nearly succeeding. Elarra could tell she was stronger, and soon would gain the advantage as Elarra tired.

  Using the move Kyren taught her, she reversed her momentum and pulled Joraq toward her. Using her hip she levered her up and over, sending Joraq tumbling. Taking the seconds of reprieve, she scanned around for any weapon. A large carabiner was snatched off a table and slipped over her hand like brass knuckles.

  Joraq righted herself and snarled, coming at Elarra again, teeth bared. Elarra held back until the last second, until she knew Joraq was in range. Then she lashed out with all her might, putting every bit of momentum into it she could. Her fist rocketed out and into Joraq’s face. The blow staggered her and drove her back.

  She screamed and charged again, this time catching Elarra before she could wind up for another strike. They both tumbled to the ground in a tangle of limbs. Joraq came out on top and immediately wrapped her wrinkled, diminutive hands around Elarra’s neck.

  “Won’t kill me will you? How about you live with me for eternity, instead of dying. That’s it, I’ll spare you if you’ll serve me. If you won’t succeed me, then you’ll entertain with your suffering,” Joraq said, squeezing Elarra’s throat tighter and tighter.

  Elarra struggled but it was no use, she was going to die. And then Joraq just stopped, climbing off of her and standing.

  “Nar’raxi! Take her to the stockade,” Joraq ordered.

  She was unceremoniously hauled to her feet and led from the building. As they took her yet deeper into the
complex, the sun began to rise, dawn’s light revealing the overgrown campus Joraq and her people occupied. She was dragged to another cinder block building and hauled inside. It was a jail, she identified immediately. They threw her in a cell and the door clanged shut behind her.

  23

  Future-Past

  Kyren awoke in the darkness, still reclined in the rho'kar chair. He stood shakily and peered into the darkness. There was a faint light coming from the doorway where he had entered.

  He staggered at first but began to get control, each step more sure than the last. He reached the door and found his belongings piled there. He slung his rifle and crept outside. Although the light was still dim, it was enough to make him squint. He heard a commotion a good distance off and headed in that direction.

  Following the sounds, it led him back to the plaza bordering the lake. He immediately spotted Alis and Benjam at the center of the crowd. Behind them was their boat.

  Alis spotted Kyren and ran over, throwing her arms around his neck and squeezing him tight, “We didn’t know what had happened to you, I was so worried.”

  “Yeah, but where’s Elarra?” Benjam asked as he squirmed closer.

  “I don’t know. Joraq took me to the rho'kar. She showed me some things, then I blacked out,” he explained. “What happened to you two?”

  “We were hustled out here at dawn, but you and Elarra were gone, so we didn’t know what to do,” Benjam said, letting out a quiet wail.

  The crowd of nar'raxi gathered around them had been murmuring, the crowd full of small conversations. Thankfully their posture was unthreatening. Curious, more than anything. But he knew how quickly that could change.

  A hush fell over the crowd and they began to part as a diminutive figure strolled into the plaza.