PLANET NABERIUS, NORTHERN FOREST REGION, ARKS RESEARCH CAMP
- 0830 hours -
Morning was the best time of day. It was the time Senn Vatras felt the most productive, the most refreshed, the most optimistic. Any why not? Everything was still ahead of her, in the future. A bottomless well of untapped potential. There hadn’t been time yet for failures, setbacks, or arguments. Those might come later, and probably would. But right then, at eight thirty in the morning, things were perfect.
Senn sipped her mug of liquid caffeine and gazed out at the camp. It consisted of a dozen pre-fab structures, single story, each roughly the size of a large trailer or small house. They were clustered in groups of two and three, arranged in a crescent shape along the northern edge of the forest region, just south of the work site.
A handful of people were milling about. ARKS researchers comparing notes from the previous day’s work, calibrating various pieces of equipment, consuming their breakfasts, or simply greeting the new day. Her husband, Rondeel, was one of the latter. He had a habit—more like a ritual—of visiting the work site at the start of each morning, as though it might disappear without his constant attention. He would often stay there close to an hour, planning and pondering, before returning to camp. That particular morning he had been away for over an hour and a half.
“Problem?” asked Senn, upon his return.
“Come again?”
“You were gone a long time. I was starting to wonder if you’d gotten lost.”
The bearded man shook his head. “Just thinking.”
“About the inscription on the obelisk?”
Rondeel nodded. “If we’re right, and it says what we think it says, this could be a big breakthrough. The board of directors is sure to be impressed. Who knows, they might even extend our funding another two, three cycles. Can you imagine it, Senn? We’re so close!”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We still need to finish the translation. For all we know, it could be nothing but a dinner menu.”
“Pretty fancy for a dinner menu,” he snorted.
Senn’s husband turned towards the work site and she followed his gaze. Even half a kilometer away, it was easily visible in the morning light. The pair of concentric arches towering over the entrance, curved steps leading to the altar, monolithic walls rising up on three sides. And in the center, the triumphant main attraction, a four-sided obelisk covered in symbols and ancient text. All of it, ruins of a civilization long gone. Or at least, long absent.
Rondeel was convinced the obelisk markings were the key to unraveling some ancient cosmic secret. Senn was less sure, but secretly no less excited. She merely tempered her enthusiasm with a healthy dose of reality. A few more days, maybe, and they would know for sure—
Just then, a loud siren began wailing throughout the camp. The perimeter warning alarm.
A pair of researchers, male and female, came barreling into the clearing. Their eyes were wide with panic. Spotting Senn and Rondeel, they hurried over to where the two Newmans were standing.
“Trouble!” gasped the male.
“We have to get out of here—now!” cried the female.
Rondeel put up his hands to calm them down. “Whoa, there. Take it easy for a second and tell me what tripped the alarm this time. Was it that family of Udans again? A pack of wild Gulfs?”
Both researchers shook their heads vigorously.
“Garongos, maybe? A Rockbear? Nah, couldn’t be, not this far north.”
“It’s worse than that,” said the male.
“
Darkers!” the female practically screamed.
Senn and Rondeel looked at each other in shock. Before they could discuss it, a mob of spidery Dagans emerged from the nearby forest. A dozen of them, at least. Their glowing crimson eyes, jet-black exoskeletons, and blade-tipped legs were unmistakable.
And they were headed straight for the camp.
“Everyone, get inside,
now!” bellowed Rondeel.
People panicked and scattered in every direction. Most of them went for the nearest pre-fab building. A few headed for the mountains beyond the work site.
None of them got very far. Senn watched in horror as her colleagues were cut down one after another. The Darkers spread out and pounced on them mercilessly. They hacked and slashed and stabbed and gutted. Even the pair of researchers who came to warn them were caught trying to make a break for it. They were killed like the rest.
Rondeel grabbed his wife by the arm and pulled her inside their temporary home. It was a squat, five-room structure consisting of a living room, kitchen, two bedrooms, and bathroom. The bare essentials, and not much else.
Rondeel slapped the nearby wall switch and the automatic door slid shut behind them. Together, the two of them fled to the far corner of the living room. Then they waited. And listened.
They could hear faint scuffling sounds. Dagans chittering to each other. Occasional screams from somewhere off in the distance. Through it all, the warning siren was still blaring.
Then, abruptly, there was silence.
“I think they’re gone,” Rondeel whispered.
“Our daughter. What about our daughter?!” Senn whispered back. There was panic creeping into her voice. “She’s out there, Ron. We have to do something!”
“Hey. It’ll be okay. She wasn’t in the camp, she was out on patrol. Besides, this is what she trained for, isn’t it? She’ll be fine, Senn. She always is.”
Senn buried her face in her husband’s chest and wept. Some were tears of sadness for the friends and colleagues she lost that day. But most of them, the biggest portion, were reserved for her daughter, alone somewhere in a forest full of Darkers.
Be safe, she wished with every fiber of her being. Hoping, selfishly, that at least her own family would be spared this cruel tragedy.
With a soft hiss, the door behind them opened suddenly and unexpectedly. “Good morning!” called an unfamiliar voice. Senn and her husband spun around. Standing in the open doorway was a lone figure, dark and menacing.
Absurdly, the figure smiled. It was a cruel expression, devoid of any warmth or humanity. The figure looked from one Newman to the other and said, “Before you die, I need you to do me one teensy little favor. It won’t take long… I promise.”
* * * * * * * * *
COLONY SHIP 02, UR: RAUTH ROBOTICS
“180.5 centimeters.”
The doctor stepped away to record the results in her notepad. Meanwhile, Akasha turned to Ivan.
“Point five, she said. I guess that means I’m officially taller than you again.”
“Only by half a centimeter, Pipsqueak.”
“For now. And isn’t it time you gave up that silly nickname?”
“No can do. I told you before: once I decide on a nickname for someone, it sticks like glue. Far as I’m concerned, you’re Pipsqueak for life.”
Akasha rolled her eyes. Secretly, however, she had grown rather fond of the name. Or maybe it was just the person saying it. Either way, she took it as a sign of affection. And given her feelings for Ivan, she was happy for whatever affection she could get.
“I think this puts the question to bed,” said Dr. Sascha Mallory, looking up from her notes. “You’ve grown over ten centimeters in the past three months. Aged the equivalent of three years. At this rate, you’re definitely on track to regain your former size.”
Akasha nodded in recognition. Even without the doctor’s diagnosis, she could have guessed that much. The Newearl could barely keep up with her own uncanny growth. Each month required a new set of clothes. The growing pains were terrible, and her appetite was nearly endless. She had gone from a plucky thirteen-year-old to a spunky sixteen-year-old in the span of a single calendar season.
“Hey Doc, I think you forgot one measurement. Akasha here’s been growing in more than just height.” Luna, the pink-haired little support partner, threatened Akasha with a grabby gesture. “What are you up to now, a C cup?”
Akasha quickly folded her arms over her chest. She could feel her copper cheeks getting warm. “D-Don’t blurt it out in front of everybody, idiot!”
“Hoh? Looks like I guessed right after all.”
Somehow Akasha managed to get even redder. “Oh yeah? Well you’re just jealous ‘cause you’re nothing but a little shrimp, and you’ll always be a little shrimp.”
“Ha! Me, jealous? Puh-lease,” Luna blurted out, a little too forcefully. “I may be small but I’m still tougher than you,
Giant Slayer.”
The Newearl took a menacing step forward, her hands balled into fists. “You wanna test that theory? I’ll take you on. Anytime, anyplace.”
Ivan had to physically insert himself between them to defuse the tension. “Ladies, ladies. Please, let’s not resort to violence. I’m sure Dr. Rauth wouldn’t be happy if you trashed his conference room.”
Akasha let out a long breath, her anger dissipating along with it. “Fine. You’re right.”
There was no particular reason why they had to do Akasha’s medical checkups at Rauth Robotics. But it had become a habit, and it gave Akasha an excuse to stay in touch with Aki and her extended family. As for Dr. Mallory, she was an old friend of Dr. Rauth’s and didn’t mind making the trip.
The doctor adjusted her glasses. “Well then. If you two are done flexing your muscles, I’d like to get on with my report.”
“Ah… right. Sorry.”
“As I was saying, you should be back to your old self in roughly nine months. Just keep in mind that your growth rate will slow as the levels of synthetic GH in your system thin out. Over the next three months you’ll only mature the equivalent of two years instead of three. Then it will take another six months for the final two. After that, theoretically, you should start aging at a normal rate.”
“Theoretically.”
“Your condition is unique. So yes, all I can do is operate on theory. But based on the data I’ve collected these past few months, I am reasonably confident.”
“Thanks, Doc. Are we done here?”
“Until next month.” Mallory paused a beat, then snapped her fingers. “Oh, there
is one more thing I wanted to mention. Your latest test results show elevated hormone levels in your bloodstream.”
“What does that mean? Should I be worried?” asked Akasha, suddenly concerned.
“It means…,” the doctor raised an eyebrow in her direction, “…that you’re a healthy teenager. All teens deal with ‘raging hormones.’ The reason I’m telling you this is because you’re taking the crash course in adolescence. It’s hard to say exactly what effect it will have on your system, given the fact that you’re aging at several times the normal rate. Mood swings, anxiety, an increased libido, these are all possibilities. I just want you to be aware of your situation. If you experience any unusual side effects, or if you have any questions or concerns, feel free to contact me at the university.”
“Got it. Will do.”
Just then, the door to the conference room slid open and Aki02 stepped in. “Akasha. I’m sorry to interrupt, but I just received a visiphone call from Lieutenant Arkon at ARKS HQ. He wants you to report to the Command tower at once.”
The Newearl frowned. “I don’t have any client orders scheduled right now. Did he say what it was about?”
“No, only that the general requested your presence there personally.”
“General? You mean
the general?”
“I assume so, yes.”
Akasha and Ivan traded looks of surprise tinged with a hint of confusion.
“Guess I shouldn’t keep the big boss waiting, then.”
* * * * * * * * *
Leaving Rauth Robotics turned out to be something of a hassle. When Akasha opened the front door, there were three people outside waiting for her. No, they were worse than people. They were
news reporters. Actually, they were even worse than that. They were about as bad as people could get. They were
paparazzi.
“Looks like your fan brigade is out in full force today,” Ivan whispered.
“I thought we lost them on the way here,” she whispered back.
“Apparently not. Should we go back inside and wait for them to leave?”
“No time for that. The general wants to see me ‘at once,’ remember?”
“Okay. You want to go with ‘Fight’ or ‘Flight’ this time?”
“Fight” was exactly what it sounded like, a frontal assault. “Flight” meant sneaking out the back and looping around the block. Akasha was tired of running and hiding from the press. Moreover, she was in no mood to let these people dictate where she could go and what she could do. If they tried to get in her way, well, she wouldn’t be held responsible for what happened next.
“‘Fight.’”
Akasha took Ivan by the hand and started forward. She took long, fast strides, practically dragging Ivan along behind her. Straight down the front steps, across the concrete walkway, towards the street thirty meters ahead.
The reporters spotted them right away. Like a school of bloodthirsty sharks, they closed in for the kill. They were taking photos with their cameras and pulling out pocket-sized recording devices.
“Ms. Akasha! Ms. Akasha! I’m Dain Holgren with Ur Weekly Magazine. Is it true you’ll be competing in the ARK16 tournament this year?”
“Giant Slayer, over here! Mitsy Morningside, PSZ Celebrity News. What do you think of the announcement that Elli Singh has been cast to play you in the upcoming movie, ‘Battle of
Ur’?”
The third reporter didn’t even bother introducing himself. “Can you confirm the rumor that Quna asked you to be her special guest at the charity concert next week?”
Akasha kept walking. Kept staring straight ahead, trying her best to ignore the paparazzi trio. They were persistent, that was for damned sure. They hounded her the entire length of the walkway, asking question after question after question. Her plans for the day, what brands of clothing she wore, how she felt about the newly-elected Executive Council. Akasha didn’t acknowledge any of it.
One of the reporters, the guy who hadn’t introduced himself, decided to be bold and stepped directly in her path. Bad move. “If you could just answer my questions—,” he started to say. He never got the chance to finish.
Akasha focused her energy and released a wind bubble that expanded outward around her. All three reporters got caught up in it. They were thrown backwards, hard enough to bowl them over but not hard enough to do any real damage.
With the reporters lying flat on their backs, Akasha pulled Ivan over to the curb. They hopped onto his hoverbike—he in front, she behind—and took off into the sky. Finally, they were free.
Akasha had her arms wrapped tightly around Ivan’s waist. She was pouting, though he couldn’t see it. “Ugh. Sorry about back there.”
“You don’t need to apologize for a bunch of sleazy paparazzos, Pipsqueak.”
“I know. And yet, I kind of feel like I do. You wouldn’t have to deal with any of this if it weren’t for me.”
Ivan chuckled. “If that’s the price of our friendship, I’m more than happy to pay it. Seriously, don’t worry about it. Besides, you seem able to handle them well enough on your own.”
Akasha rested her chin on Ivan’s back and sighed. She was tired of dealing with her newfound fame. After the Darker attack on
Ur, everyone wanted to know about the young rookie who singlehandedly defeated Typhon. The spotlight turned to Akasha and she had basked in its radiant glow—for a while. She had given interviews and posed for photo shoots, signed autographs and met celebrities. Her face had been on the cover of Ur Weekly. There was even an Akasha Fan Club. But as the weeks dragged on and offers for sponsorships and modeling contracts kept rolling in, Akasha began to tire of the spotlight. Its glow, so warm and inviting at first, began to feel harsh and unrelenting.
Akasha kept telling herself it would end, that her life would eventually go back to normal. Unfortunately, things rarely work out the way you want them to. And fame, once earned, can be hard to shake. She was young and pretty and marketable, what television executives like to call “ratings gold.” Not to mention, she had saved the colony ship from complete destruction. She was every news reporter’s dream.
Three months had passed since Typhon’s defeat. Since then, the crowds following her had dwindled to a handful of tabloid reporters, yet she couldn’t seem to lose them completely. They hovered around her life like flies to a feast. Confronting them didn’t deter them, and ignoring them only spurred them on more. All she could do was learn to live with them. Maybe someday, she thought, they would figure out she wasn’t worth their time. They certainly weren’t worth hers.
Besides, she had other things to think about. Things of a more personal nature…
“You’re unusually quiet back there,” said Ivan. “Are you nervous about meeting the general? Or maybe still upset at those paparazzos?”
“Nah, nothing like that. I was just thinking about something.”
“Oh yeah? Tell me.”
“I… No, it’s too embarrassing, I can’t.”
“Come on, Pipsqueak. Clearly something’s on your mind. I can’t help if I don’t know what it is.”
“Well…” Akasha paused, trying to find the right words. “Have you ever had a dream that felt real? Like, so real you could touch it and taste it and smell it?”
“Hmm. Once or twice, I guess.”
“I had one of those last night. Everything was so… vivid. I remember every detail. And, well, I guess I’ve been thinking about it a lot today.”
“Sounds intriguing. What was this oh-so-special dream about?”
Images from the dream in question flashed through Akasha’s mind: Being married to Ivan. Kissing him. Their daughter, Isabel. Living together as a family. It was enough to make Akasha blush. She couldn’t tell Ivan details like that. No way, no how. She especially couldn’t tell him about seeing Kira at the end. Even though he was doing better lately, it would be a painful reminder of what he’d lost.
Akasha debated what, if anything, she wanted to reveal. It was a tough call. In the end she was spared by fortunate timing: they had reached their destination. Ivan pulled up next to the curb and cut the engine. Both of them craned their necks and gazed up at the sixty-story monolith looming over them. It was the heart of military power on
Ur: the ARKS Command tower.
Akasha climbed off the hoverbike and stepped over to the sidewalk. She waved to Ivan. “Thanks for the ride. I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Hey, wait a sec!” he protested. “Aren’t you forgetting something? What about that dream you were telling me about?”
Damn, almost got away. “Oh, that? It was, uh, you know… just a dream. Nothing super important.”
“Well, can you at least tell me what it was about?”
“Um… Maybe later. I think I’ll keep it to myself for now.” Akasha jogged a few paces away, spun around, and flashed Ivan a big, toothy grin. “But it definitely, probably didn’t involve any kissing, I can tell you that.”
TO BE CONTINUED
Author’s Notes:
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