Alpha Rising (33 page)

A woman sitting on the ground in a makeshift
shelter was closest to Star. The rail-thin woman, her skin the
color of chalk, had drawn her knees to her chest and stretched her
tattered brown dress over them as if to hold her in place. Star
knelt alongside. “We need your help,” she said to the tragic
figure. The woman reached out, but grabbed only air. Star took her
hand. “Where are the ones who run the co-op?”

The woman stared from under corn-colored
hair that seemed glued to her head, and erratic words tumbled from
her thickened tongue. “I’ken help, if you help me.” She wrapped her
arms around her ankles and rocked back and forth.

Star lifted the woman’s chin and looked into
her vacant eyes. “We have nothing to give. Please, we need
directions.”

A blank stare gave way to more of the
woman’s rocking and rambling with her face pressed against her
knees. Then she lifted her head and spoke words that seemed
coherent. “Don’t go to the village, they kill each other. The
leaders are kings—we are slaves. Please … a drink.”

Someone nearby shouted, “The Specter—he
bestows carnal pleasures then steals the soul.” The Arkmates turned
around to see a black youth lying on a nearby park bench. The
teenage boy, his long hair matted in clumps, spoke with the wisdom
of an old man. “The dark side’s cultivator kings are faithless.”
His chest rattled with congestion. “Don’t believe their lies.”

A gray-haired elderly man clothed in
tattered undershorts, with open sores on his body, gazed up from
what seemed his home at the base of a tree stump. When he tried to
join the conversation, a wracking cough convulsed his bony frame
and a thick plug of mucous silenced him. Struggling for breath, he
plucked a flowering weed from the dirt and nibbled on the petals in
a bid for pleasure.

“
This is almost
unbearable,” Star said.

“
Whew!” Bach sighed hard.
“I wish we could help them, but there’s nothing we can do.” He
walked to the teenager. “Where’s the co-op?”

The boy looked from matter-filled eyes. “All
destroyed.”

“
Destroyed?”

“
Micro robots in
food.”

Bach hated what he just heard. He stared at
Star. “Could that be true? Does the enemy have programmable robots
small enough to put in people’s food?”

“
Anything is possible. It
would be a means of total control.”

His heart raced.
What if he puts mind control robots in Kaz’s and
my crewmates’ food?

The rocking woman shouted without lifting
her head from her knees. “No past, no present, no future. I need
something to drink!”

Bach yelled to her, “I’m sorry, we have
nothing.” Hands flailing in exasperation, he spoke to himself, “Is
the whole planet like this?”

The youth replied, “Only for the commoners.
The cultivator kings and principals live royally.” He slid his legs
over the side of the bench and sat up ramrod straight. “A few
beyond the graveyard once worked in the co-op effort.”

Bach looked at the boy. “Graveyard?”

Star looked around. “Where’s the
graveyard?”

“
Too much rain to tell. It
might be that way.” He thumbed over his left shoulder.

The woman blurted out, “Not that way. The
kings will kill them.”

The old man chimed in with a song. “Look for
goldfish, do be do be do.”

Bach grumped, “Too much rain? His mind’s
playing tricks on him.”

“
He was our only hope. And
I don’t see a graveyard.”

“
And no
goldfish.”

Star rubbed the teen’s back. “Where else
might someone help with the co-op?”

“
Some try, but they die,”
he replied.

“
You’re seeking the co-op
group?” came a voice from nowhere.

Bach whipped around and reactively grasped
his chest at seeing a well-groomed, dark-haired woman three feet
away. “Where’d you come from?”

The woman’s hard-looking face softened. “I’m
sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I overheard your
conversation. You asked about the co-op workers?”

“
Yes, yes,” he stammered.
“Were you here all this time?”

“
No. I just got here. I
come each day to care for the alms people. They can no longer help
themselves.”

Star spoke up. “This young man seems to have
hope.”

“
He’s delirious,” said the
woman, stepping in front of the teen. “He told you no one helps in
the co-op, but he’s wrong.”

Bach extended his hand. “I’m Bach, this is
Star. Maybe you can help us.”

“
Of course.” The woman
shook Bach’s hand. “My name is Sapphira. I deal with your co-op
crews. Griffon and Nova are due here soon.”

“
Sapphira?” Star mused.
“I’ve never heard them mention you, and that’s such a beautiful
name, I’m sure I would remember.”

“
I’m the new liaison for
co-op missions. I walk a fine line to keep in good graces with the
cultivator kings. Their wrath is virulent. I often feign addiction
just to survive. The lords are ruthless in their quest for total
reign, and their substances, forced on all, provide every form of
mind control.”

“
You seem okay,” Bach
said.

“
I’m guided. I know the
secret to avoiding addiction.”

Bach flashed his electric smile in relief.
“Guided! I didn’t think it would be so easy. Do you have a mate—a
partner—another guided one?”

Star pressed close to his side. “No
symbol.”

Sapphira’s cool demeanor shifted to a slight
smile. “Symbols? My brother has symbols—that’s what you want,
right?”

Bach hesitated. “Uh, yeah.”

“
I’ll go back for my
brother. He’s in the city posing as a lord to keep us safe from
control. I’d ask you to come along, but it could turn deadly.
Where’s your ship? We’ll meet you there.”

Star faked a smile and motioned beyond the
herb garden. “We’re by the ocean at the co-op ships’ landing site.
It’s damaged, but we fly a different craft and were able to land
there anyway. How long before you’ll be back?”

“
Oh, it won’t take long at
all.”

“
Then we’ll wait here for
you,” Star said.

Sapphira was barely out of sight when the
rocking woman cried out, “No! Don’t stay—the graveyard will end
it.”

Bach went to the woman, framed her face with
his hands, and tried to make eye contact. “The graveyard will end
it? What do you mean ‘the graveyard will end it?’” She rocked and
said nothing more. “Please,” he said, jostling her by one
shoulder.

The teenager shouted, “Sapphira’s tricking
you.”

Star put her arm around the boy. “We don’t
trust Sapphira, but I trust you. Why do you keep talking about a
graveyard? Which way should we go? Help us.”

His eyes welled with tears and he pointed in
the direction opposite of Sapphira’s travel. “Leave now. Hurry. Go
to the stream.”

She patted his matted hair. “Thank you,
friend.”

Bach looked over his shoulder. “Let’s keep
an eye at our backs. We don’t know where Sapphira was headed.” He
took Star’s hand. “Better run for it.”

The Arkmates high-stepped over dense weeds
and plowed through ravaged herb gardens before stopping on a
weed-covered hill. Bach looked around. “I hear trickling water.” He
walked to the edge and saw on the plain below a slow-moving brook
sculpting soft curves through green hills and valleys. With feet
sliding against dry, rocky ground, the two made it down the
embankment and headed to the stream. What had appeared greenery
from the hill, turned out to be mold and algae coating the rocks
and ground. Bach stared at the thick water and rubbed his forehead
in agitation. “Look at that pearly sludge floating on top. What a
disappointment.” He dragged a twig across the water, then examined
the sample. “Looks like oil, but feels waxy, smells toxic.”

“
There have been several
disasters here,” Star said. “I remember stories about the Ultimate
World burying chemicals and unwanted drug experiments in the ocean
and under the river beds.” She looked around. “That young man
talked about a stream. Maybe this is the one that leads to the
co-op unit.”

They followed the murky creek around the
base of a hill where it should have fed into a river, but hundreds
of dead goldfish floating belly up clogged the narrow channel. Bach
held back a shout. “Carp … goldfish! That old man sang about
goldfish—this must be the way.”

Then he saw a sprawling plot of land two
hundred yards left of the stream. Tangled, withered grapevines
clung to arched, wooden frameworks laid out in hundreds of evenly
spaced rows. Visible on a hill overlooking the vineyard were dozens
of boulders and headstones—the graveyard.

Dreading the navigational challenge ahead,
Bach complained. “Picking our way through all those grapevines to
get to the graveyard won’t be easy, but there’s no choice.” They
jogged toward the grape arbor and had covered more than one hundred
yards before the ground beneath their feet suddenly turned marshy
and their boots left four-inch deep imprints. “Part of an
irrigation system for the vineyard,” he said, breathing hard. “It’s
like running across a wet sponge.”

At those words, their feet sank ankle deep
in gruel-like muck, and both pitched forward. Star managed to right
herself and turn around. She helped Bach stand, but by now he had
sunk to his knees.

“
Quicksand!” he
yelped.

Star tried to take a step, but her legs were
in calf-deep. Bach grabbed her around the waist and pulled with all
his strength to lift her, but the mire gripped like wet cement.
“Sinking fast,” he said with a hard breath. He locked his hands
behind his right knee and tried to free his leg, but with the
forward shift of motion the quicksand claimed his thighs. “Star,
we’re trapped!”

Both struggled in desperation, but with
every passing second the unrelenting quicksand pulled them deeper.
Bach had sunk to his waist; Star to her thighs. She stretched her
arms sideways and stuck her hands into the mire. “Feel underneath.
Maybe there’s something we can latch on to and pull ourselves to
the side.”

Bach reached beneath the surface. “Left
side. I feel something.” He wrapped his hand around what felt like
a slimy rope and pulled on it, but the clump of cattail reeds and
marsh grass he’d grabbed turned to mush in his hand. Again he
strained to the limits of his left arm, this time feeling something
like a small tree stump. He wrapped his fingers around it ever so
gently and tried to ease himself from the quicksand. The
waterlogged stump uprooted and the momentum took him another inch
deeper. His anguished cry echoed through the barren vineyard.

Star leaned as close to Bach as she could.
“Hold on to me. I’ll try to turn on my side, then maybe I can float
on the top and you can push me to the edge.”

The two clung to each other in a bear hug
and Star tried to free her legs by kicking up from behind. The
upward movement allowed her a glimpse over Bach’s shoulder for a
brief moment. Hunkered down a few yards away, a dark-skinned man
and woman in shabby clothes watched the Arkmates’ struggle. “Help
us!” she called out. “Bach, there are two people over there.”

He couldn’t turn to see, but yelled with all
the strength left in his lungs. “Help. Please. Find something to
pull us out.”

The man started to stand, but the woman
pulled him back.

By now, the quicksand had gulped another
three inches, taking Bach chest deep, Star to her waist. “You can’t
let us die!” he yelled.

Star struggled to see over Bach’s
shoulder.

He yelled again, “Help us.”

“
They’re gone,” she said
breathlessly.

His heart sank along with another inch of
his body, and his head began to throb as pressure increased on his
chest and squeezed his lungs. He closed his eyes.

Star tapped his face. “Don’t sleep, Bach!
Open your eyes!” She looked around in a panic. The man and woman
were back, closer and off to the side.

The haggard-looking man inched toward the
quicksand and stopped a few yards away. “Who are you, and what are
you doing here?”

Bach reached out in a plea for help but
couldn’t speak.

“
We’re from Dura,” Star
replied loudly, “looking for those who used to run the co-op.
Please—”

“
Why do you want them?” The
man snapped.

The woman stepped forward. Her puffy face
and dark-circled eyes looked like she’d been crying for days. “Why
haven’t we seen you before?”

Bach’s breaths came fast and short. “We’re
on a special mission … the regular crew isn’t here … need to find
the co-op … to help your people.”

The man glared. “We don’t want your help.
Everything here turns out bad.”

“
Please give us a chance,”
Star begged.

The couple looked around fearfully and
whispered to each other, then headed to the vineyard where they
knotted old grapevines into a lifeline, carried it back to the
quicksand pit, and tossed one end to Bach. He slipped it around
Star’s upper body and the couple pulled her from the mire. He was
next.

The Arkmates stood motionless as lumps of
quicksand slid down their silver jumpsuits and pooled around their
boots. Bach could barely speak. “Thank you.”

The man’s eyes moved uneasily across the
land. He took the woman by the hand and started to walk away.

“
Don’t go,” Star pled.
“Please help us find the co-op area. My name is Star, and this is
Bach. We’re from Dura.”

The couple stopped but didn’t turn around.
The man’s body started shaking and he sobbed. “This planet is in
evil hands. Cultivators have everything.” He turned and looked Bach
in the eyes. “Your exchange crews are in great danger.”