Subterranean (13 page)

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Authors: Jacob Gralnick

BOOK: Subterranean
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“No.”

“Well, it took you long enough to help me… They were going to kill me!”

“I dispatched the guard before he discharged his weapon at you.”

“You didn’t ‘dispatch’ Tural!”

“I did not have a clear shot. The probability of striking you, as well, was too high.”

Lisa brought two fingers up to massage her forehead, she had trouble believing Radovan’s claim; she pictured him standing from a distance, data in hand, watching the scene with hesitation.

“You know,” she said, “Tural thought Flynn was in there… You could’ve run off with the data and had the two humans as scapegoats.”

“Doubtful, you would have informed Tural of my involvement. Besides, Flynn would have returned from the surface later and I would be suspected then.”

“And why would he suspect you?” She asked with a scoff.

“Because I have questioned him and his motives on several occasions.” He paused, and then spoke again. “My research into the history of this species has gained exceptional disapproval from him.”

“Why?” She threw up her arms in mockery. “Is there some big secret about this planet or something?”

He turned to look at her. “Yes.” He said coldly.

“Well? What is it?”

“There was a catastrophic event that happened years ago on this planet. I have been trying to figure out what precisely was the cause of it.”

“That’s what Flynn’s been trying to figure out, too.” She thought back to all of the times Flynn told her of his suspicions regarding the Subterraneans.

“Hmm,” Radovan groaned as he pondered the data he sifted through, “how much do you know about the species that attacked your planet?”

Suddenly a swarm of images whirled around in her head; there were searing flames left in the wake of all the death and destruction on Earth… and the hulking aliens that caused it stood emotionlessly atop the mounds of rubble and charred corpses strewn about the planet. As fast as the vivid scenes came to her, they vanished with a flick of her mind; she was used to pushing all memories of times on Earth out of her head, even before the Ravagers attacked.

“They killed people.” She said plainly and with detachment.

Radovan sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Anything else? Can you describe their appearance? What were their common tactics? Did you see their ships?”

“All I saw were a thousand dark blots in the sky and some weird curvy ships that dropped these big aliens onto the ground.” She explained it as if she were still looking out the window of her decrepit apartment building. “Then they shot people with these long rifles that made big holes inside of them.”

“What did the aliens look like?”

“They were big, hunched over, and had these spiky ridges going along their backs from head to bottom.” She slowly recalled a bit more information. “In some places their skin was hard like a bug’s and in others it was leathery with purple veins everywhere.”

“Hmm, yes, this coincides precisely with the data here.”

She shook free of her distant demeanor. “What?”

“The data here details a species matching your description… The information is quite thorough.” He leaned back in his chair and looked to the ceiling. “I wonder… According to our historical database, there is a species that attacked our planet several hundred years ago called the ‘Esuriens’, causing the catastrophic event I mentioned earlier. I have been searching for more information on that event and the species responsible for as long as I could remember.

“Apparently, they are believed to be a race of demons that swoop across the galaxy, devouring everything in their path. Whether that is true is unlikely, but what is certain, however, is that they caused the destruction on the surface of this planet, stripping the land of its nutrients and turning it into a wasteland.

“Stranger still is that we have not seen the species in a considerably long time, longer than my lifespan, although it is widely accepted that the emission of radio signals could bring them back at any given time, as it attracts them to planets. Regardless, I believe the species that nearly destroyed the Subterraneans years ago is the same species that attacked your planet.”

“So… you’re saying the Ravagers attacked this planet a long time ago?”

“Precisely, the… ‘Ravagers’, as you label them.”

“Flynn’s asked a lot of people in the city about the Ravagers, but nobody seems to know about them. Are they all lying?”

“As I said, the historical databases we learn as younglings give little information on the event, hardly enough to form a detailed image of the species. It is possible the descriptions were not similar enough.”

“Tural must know, though. He has a computer full of stuff on them.” She thought for a moment. “But Flynn said Tural had never seen them before. So, was he lying?”

“Probably, which makes this all the more strange. Especially since he relocated this information shortly after Flynn discovered the hidden hangar…” Radovan stood up and began to pace the floor. “Tural must not want Flynn to know about this information. In addition, he does not want him to leave, either, evident by withholding the fact from him that he has available transportation in the form of spaceships…” He groaned in deep contemplation. “What is he planning?”

“It’s not just Flynn, though.” Lisa interjected. “
You
didn’t know about the spaceships either.” She pointed at the computer. “Or this information.”

“Yes, it appears Tural is purposely withholding information from his own people. But for what purpose? Having the knowledge of the spaceships and the Ravagers would be conflicting; one encourages travel, while the other discourages it…”

“Wait, you said radio signals bring them to planets? You guys use radios. Why haven’t the Ravagers attacked again?”

“There is a dense layer of special metal in our planet’s crust that disrupts radio signals, acting as an impermeable barrier, stopping all transmissions of radio waves. It appears to work on all known frequencies, and even radiation,” he looked at the chunk of rock in the test room of his lab, “which is what the bulk of my experiments have been devoted to understanding.”

She stroked her lips. “So, are we safe?”

“Yes, as long as all radio transmissions remain below ground, we should be fine.”

“Um,” she asked uneasily, “does it work like that for human radios, too?”

“What? Yes, I suppose so, why?”

“Just curious…” She remembered searching the hospital room earlier and pulling out the empty drawer where Flynn hid the radio.

Her face burned red and her heart clenched; she hoped Flynn was okay.

Chapter 12

Come Hither, My Old Enemy

Flynn held his radio with a safeguarding hand. “What are you talking about?! Who detects radio signals?!”

“Turn that radio off!” Rolan commanded fiercely.

“No!” Flynn smacked his hand away and raised his rifle again, but Rolan didn’t stop this time. “Oof!” He tackled him to the ground and the two fought recklessly for control over the crackling radio, with neither one gaining the upper hand.

“That is enough!” Vale vaulted herself out of the buggy and, rifle in hand, used the butt of it to pry the two of them apart. “Rolan, get off of him!” She flipped him onto the sand and held him back. “Flynn, turn the radio off! Trust me!”

“Tell me what the hell’s going on first!”

Suddenly, from out of nowhere, a plasmatic bolt from an energy weapon flew past them and a loud bang followed. Without hesitation, they all darted towards the buggy, kicking up the sand that melted away with each step, and dove to the cover of the vehicle. As they held their heads down in cover, a flurry of bolts sprayed violently in their direction, striking sand and metal.

“What the hell’s going on?!” Flynn’s perfectly understandable question was ignored, instead smothered by an order from Vale.

“Return fire in their direction, Flynn!” Her voice boomed over the cacophony of battle. “Rolan, get inside the vehicle and start it!”

From what Flynn could make out while he fired off a hundred blind energy bolts towards the enemy, the attackers were aliens; the exact type of aliens he’d seen on Earth during the first wave of attacks.

“The Ravagers!” He whispered to himself in anger. “You guys didn’t tell me the Ravagers were in the neighborhood!” He shouted atop his lungs, over the deafening sounds of a dozen weapons discharging. “What the hell are they doing here?! Did you know about them?!”

“Not now, Flynn!” Vale slammed against the buggy. “Rolan, ignite the engine! Now!”

 

 

Run for the Hills

“Alright, it is ready!” The buggy roared to life and Vale hopped inside, where she held a hand outstretched to Flynn.

He delayed for only a second before he grabbed hold and allowed her to yank him into the safety of the vehicle. Rolan floored it, and the engines revved angrily as they built up enough force to launch them forward. It was mostly a straight shot to the city, but Rolan changed direction frequently in his version of evasive maneuvers. Bolts of energy grazed the sides of the vehicle, singeing metal and sending sparks flying in Flynn’s face that stung his numbed cheeks. He struggled to hold his rifle steady through all the turbulence, shooting wildly at anything that moved in hopes of slowing down their pursuers.

“Faster, Rolan!” Vale was busy in the back seat assembling some sort of device that she claimed would get them out of the mess. “Cover me; I require a minute to ready this device!”

The sharp, slippery, swerving turns swung her and Flynn back and forth inside the buggy, slamming them into one another more than once in a collision of flesh and bone as it tossed the round capsule from her hands all over in a ricochet. Then, the clamor of battle hushed abruptly as the Ravagers ceased fire, etching an eerie silence into the wind.

“They stopped! Haha! We lost them! Haha!” Rolan shouted out the window in triumph, hurling a maniacal cackling of laughter at the skies.

But their celebration was short-lived; a massive ball of energy the size of a boulder soared through the air, crackling with menacing electricity, and struck just shy of the buggy. The sheer magnitude of the impact was enough to fling them into the air, spinning the vehicle a hundred times before violently crashing down into the sand.

 

 

The Face of Our Enemy

Everything hurt when Flynn next opened his eyes, though it looked like Rolan and Vale had been wounded far worse from the explosion than he, visible by the bloodied warped metal that crushed half of their limbs from sight.

He was still inside the cab when he realized the vehicle had been flipped upside down, the framework melted and distorted into some sort of abstract sculpture. The air reeked of smoldering cloth that stung his lungs with each shallow breath as he figured a way out of the death trap. Between groans of pain, he was able to drag himself out a small opening of the mangled wreck, sensing a bittersweet twinge of accomplishment when he could once again feel the wind in his hair.

The next thing he did was scurry around for his rifle, with which he had no luck. Everything was scattered around the sand and looked the same: like a random piece of scrap metal. He was still shaking off his blurred vision when a Ravager approached him, details of its insect-like carapace fading in and out as it neared him. The monstrosity eyed him curiously, like it was astounded as to why Flynn, a human, was on the planet. He may have appeared somewhat similar to the Subterraneans, but it didn’t take a scientist to realize he was of a completely different species.

Then, from behind the towering Ravagers, Flynn could see two more searching the overturned vehicle for survivors. He moved to stop them, but was stunned by a series of harsh sounds coming from the Ravager closest to him. Disoriented, he then felt a large claw clamp around his neck and, with startling ease, was heaved up to eye level and dangled like a puppet.

Seemingly in an attempt to establish some sort of communication, the Ravager once again spoke in its guttural language, this time as close as possible to Flynn’s face, hissing and growling from its clicking jaws. He writhed in its strong grasp to break free, but his comparatively weak physique didn’t have a chance; the vise grip around his neck threatened to crush his throat if he didn’t do something.

Drifting unconscious from asphyxiation, he saw his reflection in the Ravager’s eyes, a horrible picture of desperation painted on obsidian marbles. It might’ve been the precipice of death working its magic, but he could swear he heard Lisa and his sister calling out to him, the voices merging into one that begged him not to leave.

“No!” Suddenly, a burst of adrenaline coursed through him and he remembered the knife holstered in the side of his leg. Outnumbered and outgunned, he drew it swiftly and, with all his might, plunged it into the eye of the Ravager.

That worked.

Instantly, it dropped Flynn onto the soft sand and stepped away as it clutched its wounded face, yelping out a horrific cry of pain in response. The other two Ravagers snapped to the commotion and prepared to fire at Flynn, but despite how fast they were in responding to the threat, Rolan and Vale were faster. Two bolts struck the aliens squarely in their chests before they dropped dead to the ground.

“Haha!” Rolan limped over to the one that was still dealing with the knife lodged in its face and delivered the killing blow with another shot. “Who is next?! Huh?! Come on!”

With the immediate danger subsided, Flynn collapsed onto his back, the voices receding from his mind as he fell unconscious, the shape of his figure forming in the sand under his weight.

 

 

Still Alive

“Human? Are you still alive?”

His head pounding, he turned away from the source of the noise that disturbed him.

“Human? I think he is still alive, he moved.”

The voice stopped for a moment, replaced by the serene whistling of the desert wind.

“His pulse is weak.”

Apparently, someone had touched him to measure his pulse, but he didn’t feel a thing.

“Get him under cover; the winds will freeze him.”

He felt someone this time, dragging him along for a bit by his collar before gently resting his head on something.

“Human.”

His eyes slowly opened to see a dark silhouette crowding over him, an expanse of muddy twilight in the background.

“Get away!” He slapped the figure wildly until a pair of HTS-500’s promptly slid back onto his face, the familiar metal fingers drilling into his skin.

“I told you not to take them off.” Flynn’s vision fused with the HTS-500’s and he could see Rolan, who sat at the other end of the buggy dressing the wound on his leg.

“I wanted to make sure he was okay.” Vale knelt over him, her head turned to the side. Flynn pushed himself up quickly, but his dizziness jerked him back down. “Take it easy, human.” Vale’s hand held his shoulder softly as he massaged his beating head.

“The Ravagers?” He asked with anxious urgency.

“Gone... for now…” Rolan stated. “Maybe they are in the mood for seconds?” He piped up in his usual comedic genius. “It does not matter, the ‘gravy train’ made its last stop.” He said the colloquial phrase like he had learned a new word. “You are sitting under it.”

Flynn looked up at the overturned buggy, prohibiting the unrelenting frosty winds from turning him into an icicle. He sighed deeply and groaned as he began to shiver again. “How close are we to the city?”

Vale stood up and pressed a button on the side of her lenses. “About a few hours walk.” She concluded, and took a seat between Flynn and Rolan under the vehicle, pulling her legs close to her chest. “We will head out soon. But first, let us rest.”

“No argument there.”

The trio let the atmosphere dip into silence, granting the whirling clouds of sand full rein while they drifted into a cold, shallow sleep.

 

 

Revelations

Flynn next awoke to the sound of something slithering through the sands. He staggered to his feet, swaying a little when the full force of the wind zipped past him.

“Vale? Rolan?”

He stumbled around the makeshift camp looking for his HTS-500’s that he’d pried off his face before going to sleep, but it was now night; darkness enveloped everything and he could scarcely see his own hands in front of him.

“I can’t find my lenses.” The subtle movements of something sliding along the sands seemed to come from every angle while he stood dumbly in the dark. “And there’s something crawling around here…”

“Here, Flynn,” he shot a look towards Rolan’s voice and felt an object bounce off his chest and land in his hands, “I found them.”

“Thanks.” The process was normal enough now; the hundred little metal pins injected themselves into his skin and the lenses powered on, granting him full sight of everything that was previously shrouded under the cover of night. “How long have we been asleep?” He glanced up at the sky. “It’s night already.”

Rolan sat with his back against the wrecked vehicle, huddled up and shivering. “Longer than we should have been.”

“Tural won’t like this.” Flynn looked in the direction of the city, as if he could somehow see him from miles away.

“Tural is in a warm bed right now.” Rolan took a deep breath. “I do not care what he likes or dislikes at the moment.”

Flynn agreed with a grin and then scanned his eyes about curiously. “Where’s Vale?”

“Sleeping.” He pointed to a mound that looked like a bundle of old cloth.

“Where are your clothes, Rolan?” Flynn saw him wearing nothing more than a simple garb that would be common in the warm Subterranean city. Without answering, Rolan pointed at the bundle again. “Oh.” Flynn grinned, he knew Vale always wanted Rolan to love her; maybe she just didn’t realize how true that actually was. He crunched his way through the sand over to Rolan and sat down next to him. “Here,” peeling the scarf off of his face, he handed it to his Subterranean friend, “I believe it’s your turn with the almighty scarf.”

Rolan eyed it reluctantly, and then grunted a laugh. “Thank you, Flynn, but you need it more than I do.”

Flynn looked at his convulsing body and smiled. “Of all the times I’m inclined to believe you, this isn’t one of them.”

“Hmph…” He snatched the scarf from him and carefully wrapped it around his face. Once his head was wrapped in the thick, wooly cloth, he gazed up at the stars in the sky and sighed. “This would make a great story, would it not, Flynn?”

“Yeah…” he bit his lips, unsure if he should be prying at a time like this, “…except it’s missing a few details.”

“Details?” He seemed confused. “Such as?”

“Like why the Ravagers are here.” Flynn pushed, eager to know the answer.

Rolan shifted and turned an agitated look on him. “You were the one being chased by them. It seems to me the details are clear.”

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