Lucinda

 

Two moons.

So many competing thoughts hit Lucie at once. Gravity felt off but she’d been living with artificial gravity for three plus years, so her ability to judge normal gravity was skewed. She could breathe the atmosphere. Outside the ship with its rank odor of melting plastics and smoke, the air was crisp and clean. This wasn’t Earth, but she could breathe.

Her knees turned wobbly and she sank to the ground. Real ground. Earth or not, it was solid and real and she was free.

“We have to help the others,” she said. Those voices, the people trapped in cells, needed help. Search and Rescue wasn’t coming. No one was coming.

“Get up, Lucky.” Halliday stalked over to her kneeling form, leaning over her.

“They’ll die if we don’t get them out.”

“Rescue teams will be here soon. You want to hang around for that? They’ll just lock you up again.”

Lucie stared up at him, momentarily shocked. Did he really not know? “No one is coming.”

Something in her voice made him pause. She pointed up, to the moon. Moons. His hands clenched, and he kicked at the ground. “Change of plans,” he said, turning back to her. He shrugged off the pack and took out what appeared to be an old fashioned satellite phone. Primitive and bulky, he extended an honest-to-goodness antenna and pressed a button to speak. “This is Halliday. Does anyone copy?”

Only static answered back. He frowned and adjusted the dials.

Lucie examined the wreckage. The names of the sixteen dead because of her rolled through her mind. There were people in there who needed help. She didn’t need to add any more names to her list, and she couldn’t wait for Halliday to decide to do the right thing.

The gap in the hull was a good ten feet in the air. She grabbed at a potential handhold. In the half-light of the strange moons, she failed to notice the sharp edges and sliced her palms. She wouldn’t be able to climb up without assistance. Good luck getting Halliday to agree to altruistic heroism. That man wouldn’t piss on a fire unless there was something in it for him. So she needed to give him a reason to care.

She moved to wipe her hands on her top, then thought better of it. She was filthy and covered in soot. Bleeding freely had to be better than rubbing debris into the cuts. Still, she didn’t want the blood to attract animals…

The thought chilled her. They had no information about where they crashed, the environment, the season or the wildlife. The last thing she needed was something with lots of teeth to decide that she’d make a tasty snack.

Lucie ripped off the hem of her pants, having judged them the least filthy and tore the fabric into strips. She wrapped her bleeding palms; better than nothing and better than becoming a monster appetizer.

“Is anyone out there?” Halliday shook the satellite phone and for a moment Lucie expected him to hurl it to the ground. “Stupid piece of junk isn’t working.”             

“Maybe someone on the ship can get it to work. I think Amber is good with electronics.” Lucie moved towards the ship and for a moment Halliday looked as if he would follow.

“No. There’s too much interference here. Yeah, the ship has all these safety protocols and signals. We need to put some distance between us and the distress signals. Maybe find higher ground.”

“But the survivors—”

Halliday grabbed her roughly and pulled her back. “There are no survivors.”

“I heard—”

“You heard the fire and the ship settling.”

Those voice called for help. It wasn’t her imagination or the ship settling. Such bullshit.

“Besides,” Halliday continued, “the survivors left hours ago.”

A chill descended on her, heavy and full of dread. There was just enough sunlight now to discern the area. Opened food packaging, empty water bottles and other bits of discarded trash littered the ground. People had been here but they moved on.

Dread curled in her stomach. They were on an alien planet in the dark. They had no good reason to move before sunrise. Something made them move, and that something couldn’t be good.

“You didn’t come back to rescue me,” she said.

He smiled, greasy and thin. “No, Lucky. I didn’t need you alive.”

He just needed her hand and code to open the pharmacy. Her eyes glanced down to the laser blade hanging from his belt. Finding her alive had been a happy accident. He didn’t need her alive then and he didn’t need her alive now.

“You knew this wasn’t Earth.”

“You don’t have to be a genius to notice,” he snapped. “Beside, those dinosaur looking things that came out of the forest gave it away. I think the scent of blood drew them in.”

Lucie flinched, hiding her hands behind her back. “Then why go back for the meds?” He couldn’t sell them on a black market. What use did they serve him now? He could barter the medication for food and… other stuff from the other survivors: sex, shelter, or weapons. He’d just have to wait until someone got sick or desperate enough. That’s what Lucie would do.

But if he knew this wasn’t Earth, then why open the door with someone else’s clearance if he didn’t have to be worried about leaving a trail? He must not have clearance anymore. No part of the prison had been off limits to a guard, not even the supplies kept under lock and key. “You’re on probation,” she blurted out before common sense told her to keep her damn mouth shut.

The back of Halliday’s hand connected with her cheek, sending her to the ground. “Because of you, you dumb bitch, and your whining at the warden.”

Lucie rubbed her stinging cheek, smearing blood from her palms on her face. She once complained to the warden about Halliday’s advances, the way he grabbed her ass and joked about putting a bag over her head. She was a convict, yes, but she didn’t deserve to be sexually assaulted by prison staff.

The warden had listened with annoyance and finally cut Lucie’s story off, flatly telling her that if she didn’t want that sort of attention, she shouldn’t flirt with the guards.

Flirt? Being on the receiving end of sexual assault was not flirting. Well fuck the warden and fuck Halliday. “Good, you dickhole.”

Halliday grabbed her roughly by the upper arm and hauled her to her feet. “What did you call me?”

“A dickhole,” she repeated, enunciating loudly and clearly. “It’s the hole at the end of your penis that piss comes out of. You’re like that, spewing piss out of your mouth.”

His eyes narrowed and his lips curled back in a sneer. He clenched the electric prod and held it high, ready to swing, and Lucie instinctively tucked her head down. Her smart mouth was going to be the death of her.

The blow never came. Instead, he giggled. “Lucky, Lucky, Lucky. I’d shove my dick in that smart mouth of yours right now and teach you a lesson, but I don’t trust you not to bite.”

She snapped her teeth at him. He was right not to trust her. She’d sever him from his manhood in a moment if he stuck that rancid thing anywhere near her mouth.

“Everyone went into the forest,” Halliday said, pulling her in that direction.

“Why can’t we wait until morning? You said monsters came out of the forest. Why would we go in there in the dark?” She dug her heels into the dirt, but she was no match against his upper body strength.

“Jesus, Lucky. They said you were smart. I don’t have to run faster than the monster. I just have to run faster than you.”

 

Asche

 

Asche resisted the protocol as long as possible. It was harder for him. His brothers defended the City in the Caldera and raided other encampments. Asche built and maintained the city. It had been many centuries since the last raid and even longer since the city was last attacked. Every day he was surrounded with decay. The city was a never-ending burden of tasks. How could he sit idly by as he listened to the city fall apart around him? He had never been able to resist the call of the protocols for long, but today was different.

Someone was out there.

Someone could need him.

The renewing energy of the Forge flowed through his body. He could almost feel excitement. He had been without purpose for so long, and now that was over… Yes, this had to be excitement. Even with the heartstone locking his strong emotions away, his body vibrated with anticipation.

Someone needed him and they would need food and water. The gardens of the city had long ago withered. Greenery flourished inside the caldera due to the rich volcanic soil but invasive plants long ago drove out the more care-intensive edibles. He didn’t believe anything that grew in the city was classified as food, at least nothing Sheenika would eat.

He knew how to forage. A quick trip down the mountain and he would have enough foodstuffs for days, and if he happened to locate the Creator, surely no harm could be found in that. Besides, Ertale would need his skills. Asche knew how to talk and charm. Ertale didn’t talk. Period.

If he hurried, he could meet Ertale at the foot of the mountain.

The cargo wagons were still operational under a layer of dust. Early in the construction of the city, he used the vehicles often to haul up stone and remove debris. Sheenika gave the valos the craft and built a long track around the mountain. Piloting the vehicle was simple as it could never leave the track. It went up the mountain, it went down. Quickly. The wagons had no braking system. Sheenika had only been concerned with speed, not safety. Any damage taken in transit—or from a sudden stop—could be healed easily enough with a trip to the Forge.

Asche kept the track clear of debris and vegetation. The descent was without incident and Ertale’s tracks were easy enough to follow. The male was a Sentinel, not a stealthy warrior like Sarsen. The quickest way to his target was a straight line and no tree or natural feature would stand in his way. Asche only had to follow the path of destruction.

Dawn arrived. The mountain sat at the head of a valley. A thick forest bordered the west and a river flowed to the east. Ertale’s path went straight to the forest.

Under the green canopy, it became obvious to Asche that something else besides himself and his brother was in the forest. The animals chattered in an agitated fashion. He should catch one. Sheenika enjoyed a roasted beast. Perhaps their new visitor would have similar tastes.

He traveled on foot for nearly an hour, plucking fruit he remembered Sheenika favoring and adding it to a satchel. Eventually the path led away from the forest, across the valley and towards the river.             

Asche found Ertale crouched behind a shrub, barely hidden and looking exactly like a pile of rocks. His armor was up, the stoney plates covering him entirely, and it would have been a good disguise except for his fire which burned at the seams. Fortunately for the Sentinel, the objects of his study were oblivious. 

“Are these our visitors?” Asche crouched down next to his brother.

Ertale gave a dismissive wave. The meaning was clear: quiet.

“Are they speaking?” Asche rocked back on his heels, unfamiliar words flowing over him. The Creators spoke a different language than the valos when they arrived, but they gave them language when they gave them their heartstones. What the two little Creators were speaking, however, did not resemble Sheenika’s language in the slightest. “Do you know what they say?”

Ertale motioned with his hand. Quiet.

The two Creators were smaller than he remembered. They could be immature; children. Asche had never seen the Creators’ children but they must have them. Sheenika and Lusheenn—the creator of the Radiant Valos— were siblings. Logically, they had been children at one point.

One was significantly taller than the other. Asche felt this one had to be male, but he was unsure. They wore clothing, making it hard to tell. Sheenika and Lusheenn also wore clothing, their costumes growing more elaborate as the years passed. Sheenika had gowns that flickered and trailed light in her wake. These little Creators were far more simply dressed. Still, he could not be certain if they were male or female.

The smaller Creator—his gut said female— crouched at the river’s edge. She sipped water from her cupped hand. Asche nearly leapt to his feet. She should be drinking from his cupped hands. He could fashion her a cup from the delicate wood, fragile clay or even carved from crystal. He could fetch the clearest, coldest water from the snowpack on the mountains. She should not be crouched in the mud, drinking from her own hands. Sheenika would flay him alive for allowing such an insult.

Goldwings flitted above the water. The female held out a hand as they darted about. A tired smile tugged at her lips.

The larger one stood over her. Despite the language barrier, his words sounded cruel.

Asche could not be certain they were Creators at all. They were the wrong size. The proportion of their limbs were too short. The cruel words were correct. The willingness to be humbled by nature was not correct. They had to be visitors from someplace else and not creators returned to Sonhadra.

The large one shoved the female and she fell into the mud. A foot on her back held her down. Her hands slapped at the water, struggling to free herself.

The little creators brought violence with them. That was the same as before.

“Help her,” Asche said to Ertale.

The guardian’s eyes blazed gold, but he did not move.

“He’s hurting her.” They could not hurt a creator but they could not allow a creator to be hurt. Asche understood Ertale’s dilemma. His inaction said much. He could not intervene without risking injury to one of the creators.

If Ertale’s protocols tied his hands, Asche would have to be creative and fast.

He cupped a hand and superheated the air, shaping it into a dart. He aimed it first at the male, but his hands wavered and he found himself unable to release the dart. The female creator’s struggle grew weaker, despite the male letting her up for a breath of air. He snarled and shoved her back into the water.

Asche targeted a goldwing, sending the dart to the tiny target. For a moment he regretted injuring such a peaceful creature. Goldwings were harmless, eating only insects and stealing shiny object for their nests. It squealed far louder than anything that small had a right to make.

An ak’rena bellowed in response. The ground thundered as it raced to injured prey. Asche’s plan was a touch more effective than expected.

Ertale shoved Asche to the side, anger and fire blazing under his plate armor, and dashed towards the little creators.