Chapter 10:
Time was very strange there in Tralam. Drake had to admit to himself, however, that everything was very strange there.
When he had begun walking, what looked like sunlight had lain on the floors, and the crumbling walls had poured in through the broken windows and the shattering stone that had once formed columns. Now, after what felt like only a few mere moments, full darkness was everywhere. The small pack-lights that they carried were the only light along this hallway now. Even though it was fully dark, he could not keep his eyes off of Lornia.
Not that he had tried.
He had taken a glance out of one of those windows earlier; what he had seen out there had horrified him. Nothing but space. The landscape. No ground. Nothing. Not even stars or moons or a single glimpse of the other planets that had formed the gates to that place.
The seriousness of the situation kept seeping into him with every step. He said to her, “The weapon. How heavy is it?”
She said, “Do not worry. You will not have to carry it.”
More irritation slid along his veins. She seemed to answer every single question with an evasive, off-hand sentence. He wondered if part of that was due to her rustiness with human language or if she were deliberately avoiding the questions.
He tried another approach. “Does it have wheels?”
Her head shook in a negative gesture. “No. It does not need them.”
He asked, “Can you describe the weapon to me so that I shall know it when I see it?”
“The weapon already knows you.”
Drake pushed down the urge to shake her. He had a feeling it would do no good anyway. Besides, after having seen her fight off that beast, he really was certain that he did not want to fight her.
They came to a large center hallway. Lights suddenly blazed into being. They all stood there, the entire crew with Lornia in their midst. Drake’s jaw sagged almost to his breastbone, and his was not the only one.
Jessica gasped out, “What is it?”
Lornia replied, “It is the machine that forms Tralam. It is the machine that holds the gate closed against all of those who would enter here.”
Talon whistled. “Did the machine break down? Is that why we were able to get in?”
Lornia’s hair rustled as she moved forward. Her voice was faint as it drifted back over her shoulder. “No. The machine knew you were coming in and allowed you entry.”
Drake pressed forward with that question. “Why? Why would it do that?”
She paused. She turned to face them. The light glowed off her pale skin and was lost there. None of that light could spark any sort of color up from her flesh. “The weapon chooses who guides it. It has chosen one of you to be its hand and commanding voice.”
Murmurs broke through the group. Drake stared at her, his heart suddenly seized with both jealousy and a sort of awful and very vital hope. His voice lifted into the question that he knew he should not ask but had to. “Who? Who of us will be the one to guide the weapon?”
Her eyes went straight to his face. “You, of course. Did you doubt it?”
Yes. He had. It was obvious that Blade and the others were a little put off by that violently ambitious question he had asked. Blade would never have asked it. Blade would simply have allowed the honor to be bestowed upon him and said thank you. As would have every other one there.
That cold part of him that longed for recognition and power reared its head again and screamed that it did not matter that he had asked the question. She probably would never have volunteered the information after all. Another part of him cowered back slightly in shame at his wanting that; at his wanting to be the person who could command a weapon that could kill millions in the blink of an eye.
His eyes went back to her. His body pulsed again. It seemed that the only thing that he wanted more than that weapon was this strange creature with her lovely face and her tall, slightly chilled body.
Would her body warm under his touch? Would her lips heat as he pressed his mouth to hers? Would her skin soften, and was the center of her, the core that he wanted to thrust his rising member into so badly, not just warm but hot to touch? That onslaught of desire came back, battering away at his mind and body. He managed to battle it back, but he still had to shift a little and readjust his trousers with a very discreet motion.
There was something undeniably attractive about her. There was something that simply called to him. He had never felt that way about a female before, and it disconcerted him.
He asked, “If the machine exists to build this fortress, why is it tearing it apart?”
Her eyes shifted to his face. “Because it was built to hold the weapon. The weapon is leaving. There is no more use for this place. It has been crumbling away for many centuries. The machine was broken apart by one of your kind. A human. The ones who called themselves the founding members of the Federation.”
He could hear the suspicion and anger in her voice. Obviously, those founding members had not treated her nor the others of her race well. He shuffled his feet a bit. “I see. Then we need to retrieve and go before there’s nothing left of this place and we are all hurled out into space.”
She nodded and went toward the machine. She reached into it and then said, “This is not something that you can see. Not only because you are not given to see what I do now, but because looking at what I bring forth as I bring it forth could blind you or drive you mad. Do not just close your eyes. Turn away.”
Turn away? Drake wanted to protest, and as he looked at the faces of the others, he saw that they did as well. But there was a clear warning in her voice, one that would not be denied, so one by one, they turned their backs and then closed their eyes. There was a loud ripping sound. The machine groaned as if it were a mortal thing that was being torn into bits. He could hear its death throes.
Lornia spoke. “We need to go to the gardens. I have to take things from there.”
Drake turned around. The machine lay broken and dead, its guts all strewn onto the floor. That it was broken so badly gave him a momentary pause. Lornia was already on the move, her lithe body so swift that he and the others found it hard to keep up with her.
Drake caught up finally and huffed out, “Whoa. Slow down.”
She didn’t look his way. “I can’t. Any minute now the gardens will go. There are things in there that must survive.”
He stopped in his tracks. Talon stepped onto the back of his boots, but Drake hardly noticed. Bile rose up in his throat, and his skin creeped along his bones. He got out, “What did you do?”
They stood there staring at the rows of human heads inside the clear glass bubbles of the chambers they had been preserved in. To Drake’s horror, one head’s eyes opened and stared at him. Lornia said, “It was not me. Franchine did that.”
Franchine? The founding and originating member of the Federation.
Jessica cried out, “My God! They’re still alive!”
Tara, Blade’s woman, choked and gagged as she tried to back away from the gruesome sight. Blade uttered a few swear words. Talon pressed closer, a frown coming up between his eyes. “How do they remain alive yet?”
Lornia said, “They don’t. They were hooked into the machine by Franchine. It was his bid to keep them alive. They were, I suppose, in some small way, but they could not speak nor move nor understand.”
Tara cried out, “Of course they couldn’t move! It’s just their heads!”
Drake, his dark humor once more breaking free said, “Why are all of you being so squeamish? Seeing the heads of the Federation’s leaders on spikes seems like a good thing to behold as far as I am concerned.”
But it was still a revolting thing, and his eyes went back to Lornia, and he asked, “Why didn’t you stop him?”
“I was in a cryo-chamber and not awake. When I did awaken, I found that he had done much worse to my people. Of them, nothing remains.”
The words landed in the distance between them. Drake read real rage in those words, and he knew then that she not only did not trust them, any of them, but her distrust might prove to be a hard thing to overcome.
And if Franchine had done worse to her people, he didn’t want to know what it was that that he had done.
The gardens eventually opened to their sight, and Drake stood there, awestruck as he took in the cavernous rooms with the hanging greenery, the deep and seemingly endless water in the middle of one room and the growing plants and food there.
Lornia said, “Fill your packs, and not just with foods. I need those,” she indicated a long twisting fruit vine, “the vine and the fruit.”
She began to gather things. Drake did too. He took part of vines and much fruit and other things. He had no idea what they were, and he didn’t care. She had said she needed them and he was determined to get as many of the things that she needed as possible.
That he should not really care about what she needed crossed his mind. It was unlike him to be so obsessed with a woman’s wants and needs. He was though, and time passed quickly as they gathered and cut and stowed away the things Lornia said she needed the most of.
Finally, he said, “We have to go. I don’t know how much time has gone by since we crossed the threshold of this place but I know time’s different here. We can’t afford to tarry too long. We might return to our universe to find that the war ended without us being in it.”
Lornia said, “Outside of Tralam, time goes on as always, but you’re right. In here it’s strange and different. You will find the war still raging though, of that I have no doubt.”
Tara muttered, “What a pity that would be.”
Drake tended to agree with the emotion behind those sarcastic words.