Guardian Awakening (21 page)

A short while later, the door opened and a male, another female and a small child walked in. They stood and talked to the first female for a while, glancing at Tristan as they did so. They also seemed to know him. Tristan tried to sit up, but the first female held him gently down with her hand on his chest. She shook her head, indicating he should stay where he was.
 

“OK, I will lay quietly.” It was not worth arguing with her so he relaxed back on the bed. He looked at the others around him. “What is going on?” he asked. “Who are you people?” They all frowned at his words and talked together for a while. The female with the small child bent over Tristan and said something to him. She squeezed his free hand and all three turned and left, leaving him with the first female. When they were alone, she bent forward and looked intently at him with her strange eyes. She kissed him, turned and left.

Tristan’s mind was still in a whirl. Perhaps he would wake up soon from this strange dream. He lay still for a while, trying to make sense of what was happening to him, but he could think of no rational explanation. At least they meant him no harm. The first female even acted as if they were in a relationship. As if Sarah had been transformed. His body and head ached, so he shut his eyes and fell back to sleep.
 

He woke to find there had been food left for him. He managed to sit himself up. He was hungry and thirsty. The food was good and the drink a strange kind of fruit juice. Shortly after he had finished, the female alien returned. She sat with him for a while and again kissed him when she left. This went on for several days. Tristan got stronger every day. One day he felt he was ready to stand, so she helped him up, and he held on to her for balance. When he was standing, he found he was a good head taller than she was. He took a few wobbly steps before collapsing back on the bed.
What is wrong with me! Why have I forgotten how to walk?

His face had started to itch. He scratched his cheek, long stubble felt rough on his fingers.
I need a shave.
By the use of sign language he got the female to understand he needed something to remove the few day’s growth. She sat him down in the chair and went to the door. Another female was outside. They had an animated conversation, turning to him often, they both laughed and the second female disappeared. Shortly after she returned and Tristan was presented with a knife similar to a cut-throat razor. They sat him by a basin with a mirror. He looked at himself, the same unshaven face he remembered stared back at him. He looked at the two smiling females watching him.
Can’t they see I’m different to them?
He turned back to the mirror and carefully removed his
emerging beard. When he had finished they both nodded approval and helped him back to his bed.
 

Tristan used the time to try and learn some of the language from the female who was with him most of the time. The first thing he learnt was her name, Clayandra. She made him repeat it several times. When he got it right she clapped her hands together lent forward and kissed him so hard on the mouth it took his breath away.
 

The following day, Tristan was able to walk with her down the corridor into a garden. He looked around when he was outside. He could see he was far from home. Everything was strangely different; plants, buildings, it was all wrong.
 

At last he was allowed to leave. Clayandra walked him out of the hospital accompanied by a retinue of nurses and doctors. They left them at the front doors, where Tristan thanked them haltingly in their own language. Clayandra squeezed his arm and led him down the steps to a convoy of waiting vehicles. The door to the central vehicle was being held by a large male in what appeared to be a military uniform. No sooner had they settled in the seats than the vehicle whisked them away to a large imposing building at the end of a wide tree lined boulevard.
 

Sentries stood either side of sweeping marble steps. The vehicle stopped at the base of the steps and a uniformed officer opened the door. Clayandra took Tristan’s hand and lead him up the steps into the building. Whenever they passed a sentry he would stand to attention.
 

Tristan frowned. “Are you important or something?” he asked her in halting Mylian.
 

Clayandra just smiled and squeezed his hand. “Come on.” They soon arrived at a corridor with a door at the end. She opened it and led Tristan in. “This is all yours.” She swept her arm round indicating what appeared to Tristan to be a large apartment. He shut the door behind them. She immediately turned and kissed him hard on the mouth, pressing her body tightly against his. She broke their embrace, stepped back and fumbled behind her dress for a moment. It fell to the floor with a faint swish. Tristan gasped, she might look strangely alien but her body was most definitely human. She pulled him towards her, tearing at his shirt. He responded to her urgency and passion. She pulled back, breathless, smiled, took his hand and lead him to the bedroom he had noticed through the open door on his left.
 

Afterwards, she lay in his arms, her strange exotic scent filling his nostrils. Dappled early morning sunlight danced on her breast as she breathed. She roused, opened her eyes, and smiled. Her hand touched his cheek then she rolled away from him and sat up. She said something to him he did not understand, and smiled then swung her long legs round and stood. She dressed herself rather provocatively in front of him. Tristan was tempted to pull her back. He reached for her.
 

Smiling, she skipped away from him and shook her head. “Later, I have to go now.” She leant forward, kissed him quickly, twisted away from him laughing, and left.
 

Tristan lay back down and stared at the ceiling.
What am I doing here, when will I wake up to reality?
He sighed, remembering his cottage, the almost continuous arguments with Sarah.
Perhaps it would be better if I never wake up.
The sun had moved now shining in his eyes.
Time to get up
. He found the shower, and got dressed.

He had just started exploring the apartment when a knock at the door made him jump. Standing at the door was one of the aliens who had visited him in hospital. He made Tristan understand his name was Da’ren and he should follow him. He led Tristan out of the building to a ground vehicle. Once they were seated, the driver took them out into the countryside. Da’ren tried to talk a few times but Tristan shrugged and told him he did not understand using the few words Clayandra had taught him. He noticed Da’ren had a frown on his face by the time they reached their destination.
 

They had arrived at a large open area with buildings off to one side. It reminded Tristan of an airfield. Long sleek ships were parked in rows along the edge of the field. It was these ships that fascinated Tristan, they were certainly not any type of aircraft he had ever seen.
 

On the far end of the field was a large ship with a central ramp leading up into the interior. They drove up to the ship and stopped by the ramp. Da’ren indicated to Tristan he should get out of the vehicle.
 

They started to walk together up the ramp. A whispering started in his head. He looked round to see if anyone was nearby but only Da’ren stood with him on the ramp. His frown deepening with each step the whispering became more insistent. Then like a switch closing in his head, his memory returned. Everything flooded back at once. He swayed and clutched Da’ren for support.

“Are you all right, Tristan?”
 

“Yes, I think so.” He let go of Da’ren. “I need to sit down.” He walked to the edge of the ramp and sat down, dangling his legs over the side. Da’ren stood watching him. “I remember everything.”
 

“Good, the doctors said you would probably regain your memory suddenly, although we were all worried for a while, especially as you did not understand us and you spoke a strange language,” Da’ren replied.

“What was the outcome of the battle? I assume we won or we would not be here.”
 

Da’ren laughed. “Yes, we beat them thanks to you. The Sicceian threat to the Mylian system has been neutralised.”

“Where there any surviving Sicceians?”
 

“Yes they are being interrogated, then will be sold as slaves, of course,” Da’ren replied.
 

Tristan stood and shook his head. “No Da’ren, that must not happen. That makes the Mylians no better than the Sicceians. They must be treated well and held as prisoners of war. The cycle must be broken.”

Da’ren looked surprised. “Well you will have to speak to the Emperor, Tristan. That is his decision, but I doubt you will get anyone to agree. Still ,you are a hero of the Mylian people.” Da’ren paused and smiled. “Maybe you could get him to change things.”
 

“How did the Mylian fleet fare in the battle?”
 

“The casualties were low considering. But if you had not taken over that Sicceian ship and used it to such devastating effect the outcome would have been very different.” Daren paused, his head tilted to one side as if he was thinking. “Is that what made you lose your memory? I remember you telling me once you had to be careful interfacing with the Sicceian telepathic computers.”

Tristan nodded. “Yes, controlling them through the normal telepathic connection is fine, but I seem to be able to go beyond that and practically become one with the main computer. My body and mind cease to exist. I am the computer. I find it difficult to break away from that level of connection.”

“What happened to the crew?” Da’ren asked.

Tristan shuddered. “I used the telepathic interface to rip their minds from them. A horrible way to die. I hope I don’t have to do that again.”
 

Da’ren slapped him on the back. “No way of dying is good, Tristan, and you did what you had to do.”
   

“I suppose you’re right, but it doesn’t make it any better. Anyway, I have to speak to the Emperor regarding the Sicceians before we do anything else.”
 

He remembered Clayandra. “Oh my God.” His cheeks started to burn, and his hands trembled.
 

“Tristan, what’s wrong? Your face, it’s gone bright red.”
 

“It’s nothing, Da’ren, I’ll be all right.”
What have I done? I can’t make a commitment like that. The Emperor’s Daughter as well!
Now his memory had returned, whenever he touched Clyandra, Aesia’s face would be there in his mind. He shivered, knowing he would have to talk her when she returned.
 

Whichever way this situation panned out, she was going to be upset and hurt.
When the Emperor finds out I will be toast.

Tristan turned and saw that the transport was still at the bottom of the ramp. “I’m going to see if I can talk to the Emperor,” he told Da’ren, and waved at the driver to prevent him from leaving.
Get things sorted with the Emperor first while he will still speak to me.

“As you wish, Tristan, I will see you later,” Da’ren replied, and continued to walk up the access ramp.

Tristan walked back to the driver. “Please take me to the main government building, I need to speak to the Emperor.” The driver nodded. Tristan opened the door and sat down.
 

The driver dropped Tristan off at the government building main entrance. As Tristan walked up the steps, the guards saluted him smartly and opened the doors for him. He walked across the main hall to the reception area leading to the Emperor’s quarters.
 

The official at the desk stood as Tristan entered. “Sir, how can I help you?” he asked.

“I should like an audience with the Emperor, if it is at all possible please,” Tristan asked.

“Certainly, sir, please wait a moment.” The official disappeared and returned after a couple of minutes. “Please follow me, Sir.” He turned back the way he came. Tristan followed.
 

The Emperor sat in his office with several secretaries sitting at computer terminals. He stood as soon as Tristan entered and offered his hand. “I assume, as you have found your way here, that you have recovered?”
 

Tristan nodded. “Yes Sir.”
 

“Good, I’m glad, Tristan. We were all worried that the strain of controlling all those Sicceian ships in the battle had caused permanent damage to you. We are forever in your debt. In fact, the whole Mylian race is in your debt.”

Tristan smiled. “Sir, you are welcome; I do however, have a request.”

The Emperor sat down and offered Tristan a chair opposite him. “What can I do for you, Tristan? If it is within my power, it will be done.”

Tristan sat in the offered chair and looked directly at the Emperor. “Sir, I have a request regarding the Sicceian captives. I believe they should not be used as slaves. I know they have a lot to answer for, but if the Mylians use the Sicceian captives as slaves, then what is the difference between Mylians and Sicceians? The Sicceians should be kept as prisoners of war and treated fairly and with respect, while of course keeping them locked away and guarded. The cycle of slavery and exploitation must stop. At the end of this war all races should live together as equals in peace, or there will always be war back and forth forever.”

The Emperor sat in silence for a while with a frown on his face. Tristan held his breath. The Emperor’s decision was crucial to the future of the galaxy. If the emperor refused, the cycle would continue. If he agreed, there would be a chance for eventual peace.
 

The Emperor eventually sighed. “What you ask is going to be difficult, Tristan, as there is much resentment towards the Sicceians. However, I agree with your assessment of the situation. There is an old abandoned colony on one of the moons around the fifth planet. It could be converted to a prison facility, easily guarded, and it would mean the Sicceians would be removed from the ordinary people of Mylia.”

“Thank you, Sir, that is perfect.”