Odyssey Bourne Force by Debbie Renner
The teammates were brutally shoved, threatened, and abused during their ten-minute march down a corridor that did not seem to change. Two guards were leading followed by Tremaine, Mason, Pete and two more guards bringing up the rear.
Doorway…torch…doorway…torch.
“Oww!” howled Pete who was shoved from behind into Mason.
“Move Earth scum, you dishonor these walls by being here!”
The abuse was the only thing that kept them orientated as they trudged along. Tremaine had called it the long walk as if they were heading for their execution. Well, technically, he guessed they were.
There were no familiar points of reference for the team to align themselves. Pete had managed to hold on to his thin thread of sanity by forcing aside the diabolical visions of Armageddon Kalvich had instilled on him. But he could not get over the fact he had a Cathexistome entity inside him.
On Ahmadeus, Sataal and he spent hours talking about Sataal’s experience of having an alien energy being inside. The creature is absorbed through the body, into the bloodstream, and goes to work on making its “nest.” The rebel leader said for anyone unwilling, they can resist to a point, but it is a battle of wills and eventually, it conquers its prey, by sapping all the host’s energy, spirit, mind, and body. It is also perpetually awake. But, unlike a parasite, it rewards its host longevity, great strength, and excellent health. But under its rules; the host is a slave for life.
He conquered it simply because of his painstaking chemical breakthrough to expunge it, without killing himself in the process.
“At first you suffer the symptoms of a split personality and are aware of the entity deleting the identity in you and replacing it with its own. Everything you do and say seems to come from you, but you feel like you are only watching. As each generation of male Cantals know they are pre ordained to become a Trimadian, it is instilled as a great honor. They generally look forward to their newfound existence, and the takeover is instantaneous, apart from the initial symptoms.”
Sataal had predicted that with the weakening strength of numbers in the free Cantals ranks, and the breeding for hosts in the Necradome City, there would be no such thing as a free, pure born Cantal. Pete saw the desperation, but equally the determination inside Sataal’s eyes. Now Pete was experiencing this nightmare for himself, but being human, things were different.
Physically, the only difference Pete felt was an occasional sore stomach, but he still felt more or less in control, but Sataal had warned that was the subtlety of the takeover. You change, and you do not realize.
He emphasized that Trimadians do not class their actions as evil in the classic sense—their way is the only way.
This energy entity that made the Trimadians who they were, intelligent, predatory, fierce, ruthless and cunning, was extraordinary. But Pete did not expressly have a predisposition towards violence or a need to kill, yet. Just pain and numbness. His moods were changeable—one minute he was fine and next utterly depressed. Notably, he felt nothing like any increased strength or improvement to his eyesight and probably had no change in longevity, which the Cantal experienced.
Christ, all that information Kalvich had freely and gloatingly given would be so useful for their Homebase. Yet, here they were powerless and soon to remember nothing. Kalvich seemed to get off on his nasty little games. If only they could find Leah and tell her what was going on, turn the tables on him. That Kalvich was awfully convincing, powerful, and charismatic like a cult leader, and he feared Leah could easily be taken in by his ruse.
Tremaine was purely beyond pissed off with the whole situation, and getting viciously kicked in the stomach by this terrorist fueled the fire. Whether or not all this black magic stuff was real or imaginary, he was not going to let them tamper with his brain for anything. Memories of Desert Storm swept into his mind. Stop it! Focus on what is here and now, keep your head clear. Under any other circumstances, his Armed Forces training would come in handy, but they missed the chapter on extraterrestrial resistance! And poor Pete, no wonder he was quiet and aloof, having an entity crawling around inside. He had to make a move, and it would have to be soon.
They came to a halt and were lined up in front of a lift that, of course, was not there a second ago. Now was the time. As they filed into the lift, he caught Mason’s eye and gave him a predetermined hand signal. Mason blinked that he would follow his lead. They were all inside and grouped in the middle of the four guards. The front right guard commanded the lift, the doors shut and Tremaine coughed. Mason and he sprang into action. Mason threw his weight into the guard in front of him, banging his skull against the lift door, simultaneously karate kicking the other guard in the neck. Tremaine’s elbow flew backward and met with one guard’s head and repeated it to the second. Unfortunately, Pete got caught up in the sudden blitz and cracked his head on the side of the lift. But the element of surprise had carried out its desired effect, and four unconscious guards were down. The men grabbed the Gloctols and pulled Pete to his feet, with a helpful light slap on the chops from Tremaine.
“Th‑thanks, guys,” he muttered groggily, rubbing his head tenderly.
The lift stopped, but the doors remained closed.
“Don’t thank us yet,” Mason said. “We have to get out of here first.”
Pete, still rubbing his head murmured something.
“What did you say?” Tremaine demanded.
“We need to voice command the lift,” Pete stated. “What was that word, ahh, that’s right–Brehm!”
The door slid open. They scrambled out. “How did you know that?” Mason said.
“Don’t know, maybe I’ve already heard it, or the entity in me provides me with the knowledge.”
Pete was about to command the lift to shut, when he stopped and leapt back inside and started scrambling around for something.
“What are you doing?” Mason hissed.
Pete finished what he was doing, ran out and shouted, “Colehm.” The door slid shut. In his hand, he had a shiny silvery ring with a Trimadian emblem engraved on it. “This may come in useful,” he said cheerfully. Tremaine grabbed him and pulled him behind a torch pedestal. They had a brief look around at their new surroundings. They were at a T intersection. To their left and right was the usual disorientating torch lit corridor. But ahead of them were whitewashed walls and floors with fluorescent lighting.
“Reminds me of a hospital,” Mason commented. “No guesses that this was where they were taking us.”
Tremaine was examining their newly possessed weapons. All the markings he could see on the stem, handle, and head were in Trimadian.
“How do we know if these are set on stun or kill?”
Pete looked at the markings. “I can’t help you there. These markings are just Trimadian insignia. They don’t come with a list of instructions you know!”
“Who cares, as long as they work!” Mason snarled.
Tremaine had an idea. “If we want to move around easier, we better take the rest of these guards’ uniforms. But we’ll have to hurry before someone else tries to use the lift, or these sleeping beauties come to.”
All were in agreement.
Pete commanded the lift to open again and the men changed clothing. It took them a few minutes, as the uniforms were rather difficult to dress in, as they were a little on the large side, but no one had interrupted them and the guards remained unconscious.
“We need to find an exit or at least a place to hide out because these guys will be on our asses anytime, and I don’t want to find myself at the wrong end of these Gloctols,” Tremaine urged. “I’m not chancing they will only stun us with them now we have, err, hurt their glorious pride. Perhaps we should split up.” He looked thoughtful. “If one or more of us makes it out of here—”
“Now that would be stupid,” Mason interrupted. “We need to stay together and find Leah and get out of here.”
“Fuck off, man. She would betray us first chance she gets,” Tremai
ne argued.
“She is our ticket out of here. Voluntary or not she has to come back with us. Kalvich won’t kill us, if we have her.”
“What! Risk kidnapping her like Manutaai did?”
“Well, yes, but for a different reason.”
“Try this one on then,” Tremaine said, sarcastically, “how the hell do we find her in this monstrosity of a maze?”
Pete held up the ring. He ventured closer to the lift and the ring glowed faintly. He moved it away, and it faded. The ring was too big for Pete’s finger.
Tremaine held his hand out. “Give it to me, it may fit my finger.”
Pete tossed it to him, and Tremaine rolled it in his hand.
“Wait!” Pete exclaimed. “Repeat what I just did.”
Tremaine moved the ring to the lift and nothing happened.
“Aha, looks like the little feller in you is responsible for warming up this thing,” Tremaine observed and tossed the ring back to Pete.
“You know, this could be a scanner too, to see who is implanted and who is faking. Remember what Leah told us on the warship?”
“So how do we use it to find Leah?”
The ring started to glow bright red. “Hey, look at this, it’s—”
“Shh!” Mason hissed. “I think someone is coming.”
Tremaine and Pete squeezed themselves behind the pedestal, and Mason rolled over to its neighbor.
They could distinctly hear a voice chattering away and the tapping of shoes on the floor coming towards them from down the white corridor.
Instead of guards, two very different beings came into view. One looked like a doctor with a long white coat reciting something to the second, who was a short, stubby humanoid that could be a servant or assistant, busily stabbing his finger on a hand held PC. The doctor had an orange complexion: a Septen, though definitely speaking the strange Trimadian tongue.
“I can understand what he is saying,” whispered Pete excitedly. “He is talking about oils, essential oils, soaps, perfumes.” He paused, listening. He grabbed Tremaine’s arm and said, “Quick, they are referring to obtaining personal items. It has to be for Leah. They may be able to help us!”
The men looked at each other.
“Okay,” said Tremaine. “You do the talking.”
“Wouldn’t that be obvious?” Pete retorted.
The doctor and his servant were absorbed in their most important task and did not see the three humans standing in front of them until they were almost upon them.
“Hi,” said Pete in spotless English.
The two aliens took one look and the bigger one frowned and stated in Trimadian, “The Supreme Ruler has advised you are meant to have brought the human prisoners to my laboratory, may I ask where they are?”
“We’re not going to get anywhere,” Tremaine stated to Mason. He and Mason grabbed the two surprised aliens and pointed the Gloctols at their heads. The little servant let out a yell and Mason covered his mouth. Pete put his finger to his mouth and gestured for them to be quiet.
Pete uncomfortably attempted a few words in Trimadian then realized understanding it was easier than speaking it. He snapped, “English, do you understand English?”
The big one nodded, “Better than your Trimadian pronunciation.” But the fear in his eyes belied the attempted bravado.
“Fine,” Tremaine’s temper was on the boil and thrust his Gloctol into the big one’s stomach, “Save us the language lessons, how about a taste of your own”
Pete slapped his hand on the weapon, “Look, we do not want to hurt you, but we need your help. Now we have the weapons set on stun, well, I think so, so if you call for help or set off an alarm, we will be forced to hurt you…—or worse. Do you understand?”
Both aliens stared at him, and slowly they nodded, the little one glancing up to the doctor.
“Do you know Leah? Queen Leah?”
A look of panic filled their eyes. The smaller one started wailing.
“Stop it,” hissed Pete. “Look, we are friends of her Majesty. She is human, like me, from Earth. You are a Septen, aren’t you? Do you know Scaba?”
The larger of the two opened his eyes wide in astonishment, and he nodded wholeheartedly.
“Ok, so will you help us find her Majesty?”
“Yes, I can help you but not here—come with me.”
With both Mason and Tremaine holding onto them, the doctor took them down the white corridor and entered a room. He reached up and touched a button that closed the door.
He turned around and said, “We can talk here for a few minutes. An alarm will sound once they discover you are missing. You were going to be my patients, and you were late. I was looking for the guards who were meant to be delivering you. My name is Dr. Ventrowe, I am the Supreme Ruler’s physician—personal physician,” he added with a certain degree of pride.
“Well, congratulations, Doc,” snarled Tremaine. “Firstly, you are not touching our brains, are we clear about that?”
“Yes, but—”
“Secondly, we need you to take us to Leah and get us out of this hell hole, now.”
Doctor Ventrowe and his little assistant shivered and cringed when Tremaine mentioned Leah’s name.
“Thirdly, why the hell are you cringing like that?”
“Never say our great leader’s name, or her Royal Highness. Only use their titles. It is the Trimadian tradition and a show of respect.”
“Well lovely to know,” Mason added sarcastically. “We don’t have time for niceties, take us to Leah now. Hey, who is your little friend?”
Doctor Ventrowe looked at his little servant. “Oh, this is my part time assistant. Just call him Stunt, that is not his proper name, but the Trimadian guards call him that. He provides entertainment and all sorts, he is very good.”
“Hi, Stunt,” Pete said. “What race are you?”
“Trimadian,” a little squeaky voice piped up.
“Don’t lie, Stunt. I’m sorry. He likes to think he is Trimadian. He wants a Cathexistome as much as you want your freedom. He is a Cantal. He got a childhood disease that stunted his growth, hence his name. He still believes implantation of a Cathexistome could have prevented or cured the disease, and he would do anything to get one now to make him stronger.”
“Okay,” said Pete, “This is Mason and Tremaine, call me Pete. Please take us to Leah, her Royal Highness; we need to talk with her urgently.”
Dr. Ventrowe looked imploringly at the three of them, “Please, if I help you, will you take us with you?”
“What! Why the hell would you want to leave?” Tremaine exclaimed.
“The same reason you do. I know Scaba all right. He is my contact. I have been relaying information to him to help the rebel movement. I can provide great intel to him and you humans about this place and the Trimadians.”
“So you are a spy?”
“Yes, though lately I have been a little out of touch. Since the queen’s arrival security has really gone overboard. But after that terrible kidnap ordeal by one of Lord Talokta’s soldiers who was undercover on Ahmadeus, I am not surprised. But I stay in touch with my fellow Septens, Cantal rebels and some of you humans are allies.”
“Well, we are pretty sure the Trimadians have wiped out the Cantal rebel base on Ahmadeus. Your beloved boss has told us that he knows of the spies in his ranks, but he doesn’t seem too concerned.”
The two aliens looked at each other, a classic look of fear growing in their eyes.
“Though he could be lying to us, I would not trust anything he says,” added Pete quickly.
Tremaine looked at Mason. “With his knowledge and the fact he is a doc, he could help us steal a ship and get out of here.”
“I do have a confession,” Ventrowe stated, “I was going to try to wait until after the ceremony, when the security would ease off and try to help you obtain a vessel to leave here—part of a plan I was devising with Scaba and your man b
ack on Graffa—what was his name?”
“Our boss? Paul Pilcher.”
“No, this one was called Calham. Denver Calham.”
The men looked at each other wonderingly.
“However, the Supreme Ruler demanded a few hours ago that you have an operation which was good and bad.”
“What do you mean?” asked Tremaine.
“Good, as I was going to finally meet you and make contact, and bad as I would have had to place some devices in your head that without the proper procedure to remove would cause you extreme pain and—” He looked wide eyed at them. “Death.”
“I told Scaba my ship’s technical knowledge is limited, but I was counting on your expertise to help. I was positioned years ago on the Zeloid moon while distributing medicines during a war between the Trimadians and the Zeloids. The Trimadians captured me and were going to execute me until they recognized my skills as a doctor and well, here I am. The Trimadians love being looked after by all types of servants.”
Pete noticed the pained look on his colleagues’ faces. “I might be able to fly a ship while I have a Cathexistome inside me, it may give me the necessary knowledge.”
Mason turned to Pete. “How do you control the entity in you, Pete?”
“I‑I’m not sure, instinct, will power, who knows. Look, I don’t feel any different. I mean, I don’t think I will change and turn against you guys, like a Cantal implanted would, but keep an eye on me.”
“Okay,” said Tremaine. “We are running out of time, ladies, let’s go now!”
They hurried out of the laboratory.
“Is she far away?” Pete asked Ventrowe.
“It is my job to know the routes, and I have authorization to use the Supreme Ruler’s personal lifts that would get us there in only a few minutes, if we don’t meet any opposition.”
They turned up the white corridor and made several other turns. The feeling of disorientation again was spreading through them. “Shit,” said Pete. “I think we need some breadcrumbs.”
They came to another T intersection that you would swear was the same as where they started from, except for the fact the corridor to their right was a cul de sac. They turned right and stopped at the end.
“What now?” whispered Mason.
Dr. Ventrowe lifted his hand up and pushed a ring on his finger to the wall. The wall changed into a doorway. “Brehm,” commanded Ventrowe. The door opened and revealed a small lift that they had to squeeze into as it was a confined area. A blaring noise shrieked in their ears.
“Colhm!” Ventrowe shouted and the door slid shut. “That is the alarm I was telling you about. Remember, not only do they know you are missing but are in possession of uniforms and weapons, and they know you will try to escape.”
The little Cantal was hopping from one foot to the other in his nervousness.
“He isn’t going to pee himself, is he?” Tremaine commented.
Ventrowe was frowning, or at least they thought he was. “I think I had best take you underground to a ship. Forget about her Royal Highness. Think about it‑that would be the one place the Trimadians would look, and when they catch you, it will be the mines for life, if they don’t shoot you first.”
Pete hesitated. “No, not necessarily, they would think that a direct escape would be our priority, and we have been to those cursed mines. I think we would rather take a chance and get out of here than live our lives in hell,” he stated. “Anyway, if we had Leah they won’t shoot us.”
“So, come on,” yelled Mason. “Take us to Leah, she is our bargaining chip out of here, don’t make us use unnecessary force!”
“Very well,” sighed a crestfallen Ventrowe. Chances of leaving were slight. He wondered if the Supreme Ruler was watching now, waiting for them to walk into one of his vicious, deadly games. He shuddered as he commanded the lift, and they were on their way.
Tremaine spoke up, “Gotta know something, Doc.”
Ventrowe lifted an orange tinged eyebrow.
“If you are on our side, you know, the good guys, would you have gone through with that mind altering operation on us, or just pretend to?”
Ventrowe sighed. “Trimadians rule by fear and are by nature suspicious. I would have no choice but to do it, a simple scan and they would know the truth, and would execute me for treason. If I claimed it was unsuccessful, he would see me as incompetent, and that is an embarrassment I cannot afford, being his top personal physician. If, for any reason, I used an excuse to try to get out of it, he would instantly be suspicious. My friends, in today’s politics, it doesn’t take much to class anyone as a spy.”
“You don’t have much freedom here do you.”
Ventrowe grinned, or so Tremaine thought he did. “Well, they treat us very well as long as we do what is expected of us.”
“Great, a happy slave,” murmured Tremaine.
“Life is what you make it, given limited choices.”
“You would get on very well with Pete here, our resident optimist,” Tremaine commented.
Just then, Ventrowe commanded the lift again and the door opened. They peered around the door of the lift and surprise, surprise, more long corridors in both directions.
Tremaine groaned.
“Follow me.” Ventrowe paced up the corridor, glancing at his ring. He picked up the pace to a jog, and they all kept up, except the little Cantal who sprinted and blocked his ears from the alarm. About ten seconds later the alarm stopped.
“Is that good or bad?” Tremaine gasped.
Ventrowe turned his head as he jogged. “Means nothing. The Supreme Ruler probably stopped it as it does hurt your ears after a bit.”
The men noticed Ventrowe’s ring pulse and glow different colors. “Oh, they are busy alright,” Ventrowe commented. He raised his hand up and signaled to hide behind the torch pedestals.
About five seconds later, at least fifteen heavily armed guards came marching double time down the corridor towards them and passed within feet of the hiding men.
“Phew, that was lucky.” Mason breathed when they had gone. “That ring, does that have something to do with warning what is around you?”
“Yes, the ring is calibrated to sense heat, including certain life forms, like Cathexistomes and glows certain colors and pulses to tell the wearer the distance, type of entity, how many, armed or not and so on. You just need to know how to interpret it. It is not standard issue for any soldier. They are worn by the fleet masters, higher ranking Trimadians, their spies, and the Supreme Ruler, even though he does not need a ring with his powers. But, he uses one for practical reasons like communicating with his men—oh and myself, being his personal physician.”
“Ahh, comes with the job, that’s nice,” Tremaine snorted.
“So, what about this ring we took off one of the guards before we met you?” Pete held it up. “It just keeps glowing red continuously.”
“Take it off now and give it to me,” Ventrowe demanded. “It’s a wonder they haven’t tracked us now.”
He gave it to Stunt and said, “You know what to do and quick.”
Stunt took off like the wind.
“Okay, so what was that all about?” Tremaine asked.
“Each ring is only intended for its officially assigned wearer and no one else, unless it has been re calibrated by a Verone Elite member or the Supreme Ruler himself. That is to stop any being stolen and misused. In that case, it simply glows red if it is in the hands of another Trimadian or it probably wouldn’t work for anyone else. It senses each Cathexistome’s energy signature, a bit like DNA in a human. It is termed a dead ring because although it won’t work any more, it sends out a honing signal so the culprits can be tracked down. I have not yet experienced this but, there is a dark rumor that Lord Talokta added an enhancement so after a countdown the ring will explode, just a little one to blow the arm off the being who possesses it. That is why I asked Stunt to hurry.”
Pete asked the
obvious, “Where has he taken it?”
“To the closest guards’ lavatory facility.”
Just then, Stunt came flying up to them.
“Everything alright?”
“Yes, no one was there, and I managed to flush it down so it should be in the pipes.”
“Well, we will soon learn if the Trimadian master added a little gift to the device. He derives a sadistic enjoyment through blowing things up. Right now let’s get to Her Majesty and hope she does not have company.”
Mason looked at the orange alien in a new light. “Look, if we are caught, just tell them you were our hostage.”
Ventrowe didn’t bother to explain to these naïve humans that Trimadians do not show mercy, no matter what. He would be, simply, collateral damage and blown away along with these fools.
“Come on, let’s move,” Pete said.
They traveled another twenty meters including two left turns and Ventrowe signaled again. “Just around the next corner is a corridor that runs alongside the queen’s private quarters. If all goes well, and they have not caught on to where we are, we can use the soft lifts and be out of here in no time. Now be aware, there will be at least two guards outside.”
Ventrowe was cut short by Gloctol fire splattering half a foot above his head.
The men threw themselves behind the pedestals and instantly returned fire. The most amazing energy balls shot out of the weapons, and they had to brace themselves for the strong recoil.
The two guards who were on duty outside Leah’s door had tracked them.
Mason shouted at Tremaine to cover him and rolled over adjacent to the other side of the corridor while Tremaine let off ten rapid shots. Mason rolled up to his knees behind a pedestal and fired off half a dozen shots. The fourth met its target with a scream of pain. The other guard skillfully twisted back and forward making himself a harder target.
The guard failed to see Pete stand up and shoot him squarely in the face, but when the guard went down, a loose fireball clipped Pete in the shoulder, spinning him against the wall, and landing on top of a frantic Ventrowe.
Within a space of ten seconds, the battle was over. The smell of burnt flesh was nauseating.
“Here, here,” Ventrowe yelled. Pete had grabbed his shoulder and he was doubled up in pain. The flesh was torn to shreds and he was losing blood rapidly.
“Help him, doc,” Mason yelled as Tremaine checked for any more guards.
“There are no more guards close by according to the ring,” Ventrowe shouted. “But I have to get your friend back to the medical quarters, if we are to save him.”
“No, go on without me, please,” Pete hissed under his breath.
Tremaine and Mason scooped Pete up as gently as possible. Mason shouted at Ventrowe, “Right, doc! LEAH NOW! She cured herself when she was wounded by Marone. She may be his only chance.”
They hurried as fast as they could up the corridor trying to keep up with Ventrowe.
Tremaine commented, “I wonder what would happen if we blasted Kalvich with a Gloctol.”
Once more, a flexible Ventrowe turned his head as he kept running, “Oh, that wouldn’t do a thing. He was born a god and therefore is immortal. He can change shape at will, whether it is energy or solid. I assume a Gloctol fireball would simply go through him, or if it hit him, his body would self mend. He has chosen a humanoid form as the gods created Cantals and humans in their own image. That is common knowledge. According to the Supreme Ruler, the Gods are quite vain and prefer the humanoid look. It is most desired for pleasurable reasons too.”
The men stared at him. “Well, I am his personal physician. I am privy to quite a bit you know. In all essence, all gods are powerful aliens. No one, not even I, know their true form. He could be similar to the Cathexistomes. The energy being…no one knows. But he has no energy creature inside him. I must tell you about the time—”
“Well, thanks for the untimely pedantic analysis, doc, but if you don’t knock at Leah’s door now I’m going to fucking shoot you and see what you have inside!” Tremaine yelled.
A most concerned Ventrowe diligently consulted his ring, scurried a few more feet, pressed it against the wall and a huge double doorway appeared.
“This is the main entrance, and the ring shows there is another private entrance further along.”
It was an awesome experience. Ventrowe noticed their faces. “Nothing unusual, it’s a Trimadian light field. Any solid object can be hidden under a light field. It is an excellent tool to keep prying eyes away from certain parts of his fortress. The guards’ protocol would be to activate it for the queen’s protection. I cannot tell you any technical details, as it is not my field of expertise. Only scientists and a few masters possess that kind of knowledge. The ring activates the light field making the object visible to the light spectrum that our eyes are accustomed. The Trimadians have created matter that can be non existent to touch when the object is invisible; I believe it is to do with dimensional matter transfer. It is indeed a wonder.”
Tremaine ignored his incessant waffling, but Mason, being a physics engineer, was fascinated. “So, are you saying that they can not only bend light with this ring instrument but can also make solid matter disappear? They can manipulate physics in a way that we could never think possible?”
“The Trimadian engineers are so far advanced in this field, unfortunately they leave you and us Septens behind with their technology. Besides, if you took on the Trimadians head to head in warfare right now you would be wiped out.”
A loud moan from Pete brought everyone back to the reality of the situation.
Tremaine snapped, “Okay, doc, thanks for the honest overload of negative information. We will worry about that later. What is the next technical step to do?”
“Knock at the door,” Ventrowe smiled.
Tremaine rolled his eyes up. God, that Septen’s attitude pisses me off.
Chapter 42—The Spying Game
Doorway…torch…doorway…torch.
“Oww!” howled Pete who was shoved from behind into Mason.
“Move Earth scum, you dishonor these walls by being here!”
The abuse was the only thing that kept them orientated as they trudged along. Tremaine had called it the long walk as if they were heading for their execution. Well, technically, he guessed they were.
There were no familiar points of reference for the team to align themselves. Pete had managed to hold on to his thin thread of sanity by forcing aside the diabolical visions of Armageddon Kalvich had instilled on him. But he could not get over the fact he had a Cathexistome entity inside him.
On Ahmadeus, Sataal and he spent hours talking about Sataal’s experience of having an alien energy being inside. The creature is absorbed through the body, into the bloodstream, and goes to work on making its “nest.” The rebel leader said for anyone unwilling, they can resist to a point, but it is a battle of wills and eventually, it conquers its prey, by sapping all the host’s energy, spirit, mind, and body. It is also perpetually awake. But, unlike a parasite, it rewards its host longevity, great strength, and excellent health. But under its rules; the host is a slave for life.
He conquered it simply because of his painstaking chemical breakthrough to expunge it, without killing himself in the process.
“At first you suffer the symptoms of a split personality and are aware of the entity deleting the identity in you and replacing it with its own. Everything you do and say seems to come from you, but you feel like you are only watching. As each generation of male Cantals know they are pre ordained to become a Trimadian, it is instilled as a great honor. They generally look forward to their newfound existence, and the takeover is instantaneous, apart from the initial symptoms.”
Sataal had predicted that with the weakening strength of numbers in the free Cantals ranks, and the breeding for hosts in the Necradome City, there would be no such thing as a free, pure born Cantal. Pete saw the desperation, but equally the determination inside Sataal’s eyes. Now Pete was experiencing this nightmare for himself, but being human, things were different.
Physically, the only difference Pete felt was an occasional sore stomach, but he still felt more or less in control, but Sataal had warned that was the subtlety of the takeover. You change, and you do not realize.
He emphasized that Trimadians do not class their actions as evil in the classic sense—their way is the only way.
This energy entity that made the Trimadians who they were, intelligent, predatory, fierce, ruthless and cunning, was extraordinary. But Pete did not expressly have a predisposition towards violence or a need to kill, yet. Just pain and numbness. His moods were changeable—one minute he was fine and next utterly depressed. Notably, he felt nothing like any increased strength or improvement to his eyesight and probably had no change in longevity, which the Cantal experienced.
Christ, all that information Kalvich had freely and gloatingly given would be so useful for their Homebase. Yet, here they were powerless and soon to remember nothing. Kalvich seemed to get off on his nasty little games. If only they could find Leah and tell her what was going on, turn the tables on him. That Kalvich was awfully convincing, powerful, and charismatic like a cult leader, and he feared Leah could easily be taken in by his ruse.
Tremaine was purely beyond pissed off with the whole situation, and getting viciously kicked in the stomach by this terrorist fueled the fire. Whether or not all this black magic stuff was real or imaginary, he was not going to let them tamper with his brain for anything. Memories of Desert Storm swept into his mind. Stop it! Focus on what is here and now, keep your head clear. Under any other circumstances, his Armed Forces training would come in handy, but they missed the chapter on extraterrestrial resistance! And poor Pete, no wonder he was quiet and aloof, having an entity crawling around inside. He had to make a move, and it would have to be soon.
They came to a halt and were lined up in front of a lift that, of course, was not there a second ago. Now was the time. As they filed into the lift, he caught Mason’s eye and gave him a predetermined hand signal. Mason blinked that he would follow his lead. They were all inside and grouped in the middle of the four guards. The front right guard commanded the lift, the doors shut and Tremaine coughed. Mason and he sprang into action. Mason threw his weight into the guard in front of him, banging his skull against the lift door, simultaneously karate kicking the other guard in the neck. Tremaine’s elbow flew backward and met with one guard’s head and repeated it to the second. Unfortunately, Pete got caught up in the sudden blitz and cracked his head on the side of the lift. But the element of surprise had carried out its desired effect, and four unconscious guards were down. The men grabbed the Gloctols and pulled Pete to his feet, with a helpful light slap on the chops from Tremaine.
“Th‑thanks, guys,” he muttered groggily, rubbing his head tenderly.
The lift stopped, but the doors remained closed.
“Don’t thank us yet,” Mason said. “We have to get out of here first.”
Pete, still rubbing his head murmured something.
“What did you say?” Tremaine demanded.
“We need to voice command the lift,” Pete stated. “What was that word, ahh, that’s right–Brehm!”
The door slid open. They scrambled out. “How did you know that?” Mason said.
“Don’t know, maybe I’ve already heard it, or the entity in me provides me with the knowledge.”
Pete was about to command the lift to shut, when he stopped and leapt back inside and started scrambling around for something.
“What are you doing?” Mason hissed.
Pete finished what he was doing, ran out and shouted, “Colehm.” The door slid shut. In his hand, he had a shiny silvery ring with a Trimadian emblem engraved on it. “This may come in useful,” he said cheerfully. Tremaine grabbed him and pulled him behind a torch pedestal. They had a brief look around at their new surroundings. They were at a T intersection. To their left and right was the usual disorientating torch lit corridor. But ahead of them were whitewashed walls and floors with fluorescent lighting.
“Reminds me of a hospital,” Mason commented. “No guesses that this was where they were taking us.”
Tremaine was examining their newly possessed weapons. All the markings he could see on the stem, handle, and head were in Trimadian.
“How do we know if these are set on stun or kill?”
Pete looked at the markings. “I can’t help you there. These markings are just Trimadian insignia. They don’t come with a list of instructions you know!”
“Who cares, as long as they work!” Mason snarled.
Tremaine had an idea. “If we want to move around easier, we better take the rest of these guards’ uniforms. But we’ll have to hurry before someone else tries to use the lift, or these sleeping beauties come to.”
All were in agreement.
Pete commanded the lift to open again and the men changed clothing. It took them a few minutes, as the uniforms were rather difficult to dress in, as they were a little on the large side, but no one had interrupted them and the guards remained unconscious.
“We need to find an exit or at least a place to hide out because these guys will be on our asses anytime, and I don’t want to find myself at the wrong end of these Gloctols,” Tremaine urged. “I’m not chancing they will only stun us with them now we have, err, hurt their glorious pride. Perhaps we should split up.” He looked thoughtful. “If one or more of us makes it out of here—”
“Now that would be stupid,” Mason interrupted. “We need to stay together and find Leah and get out of here.”
“Fuck off, man. She would betray us first chance she gets,” Tremai
“She is our ticket out of here. Voluntary or not she has to come back with us. Kalvich won’t kill us, if we have her.”
“What! Risk kidnapping her like Manutaai did?”
“Well, yes, but for a different reason.”
“Try this one on then,” Tremaine said, sarcastically, “how the hell do we find her in this monstrosity of a maze?”
Pete held up the ring. He ventured closer to the lift and the ring glowed faintly. He moved it away, and it faded. The ring was too big for Pete’s finger.
Tremaine held his hand out. “Give it to me, it may fit my finger.”
Pete tossed it to him, and Tremaine rolled it in his hand.
“Wait!” Pete exclaimed. “Repeat what I just did.”
Tremaine moved the ring to the lift and nothing happened.
“Aha, looks like the little feller in you is responsible for warming up this thing,” Tremaine observed and tossed the ring back to Pete.
“You know, this could be a scanner too, to see who is implanted and who is faking. Remember what Leah told us on the warship?”
“So how do we use it to find Leah?”
The ring started to glow bright red. “Hey, look at this, it’s—”
“Shh!” Mason hissed. “I think someone is coming.”
Tremaine and Pete squeezed themselves behind the pedestal, and Mason rolled over to its neighbor.
They could distinctly hear a voice chattering away and the tapping of shoes on the floor coming towards them from down the white corridor.
Instead of guards, two very different beings came into view. One looked like a doctor with a long white coat reciting something to the second, who was a short, stubby humanoid that could be a servant or assistant, busily stabbing his finger on a hand held PC. The doctor had an orange complexion: a Septen, though definitely speaking the strange Trimadian tongue.
“I can understand what he is saying,” whispered Pete excitedly. “He is talking about oils, essential oils, soaps, perfumes.” He paused, listening. He grabbed Tremaine’s arm and said, “Quick, they are referring to obtaining personal items. It has to be for Leah. They may be able to help us!”
The men looked at each other.
“Okay,” said Tremaine. “You do the talking.”
“Wouldn’t that be obvious?” Pete retorted.
The doctor and his servant were absorbed in their most important task and did not see the three humans standing in front of them until they were almost upon them.
“Hi,” said Pete in spotless English.
The two aliens took one look and the bigger one frowned and stated in Trimadian, “The Supreme Ruler has advised you are meant to have brought the human prisoners to my laboratory, may I ask where they are?”
“We’re not going to get anywhere,” Tremaine stated to Mason. He and Mason grabbed the two surprised aliens and pointed the Gloctols at their heads. The little servant let out a yell and Mason covered his mouth. Pete put his finger to his mouth and gestured for them to be quiet.
Pete uncomfortably attempted a few words in Trimadian then realized understanding it was easier than speaking it. He snapped, “English, do you understand English?”
The big one nodded, “Better than your Trimadian pronunciation.” But the fear in his eyes belied the attempted bravado.
“Fine,” Tremaine’s temper was on the boil and thrust his Gloctol into the big one’s stomach, “Save us the language lessons, how about a taste of your own”
Pete slapped his hand on the weapon, “Look, we do not want to hurt you, but we need your help. Now we have the weapons set on stun, well, I think so, so if you call for help or set off an alarm, we will be forced to hurt you…—or worse. Do you understand?”
Both aliens stared at him, and slowly they nodded, the little one glancing up to the doctor.
“Do you know Leah? Queen Leah?”
A look of panic filled their eyes. The smaller one started wailing.
“Stop it,” hissed Pete. “Look, we are friends of her Majesty. She is human, like me, from Earth. You are a Septen, aren’t you? Do you know Scaba?”
The larger of the two opened his eyes wide in astonishment, and he nodded wholeheartedly.
“Ok, so will you help us find her Majesty?”
“Yes, I can help you but not here—come with me.”
With both Mason and Tremaine holding onto them, the doctor took them down the white corridor and entered a room. He reached up and touched a button that closed the door.
He turned around and said, “We can talk here for a few minutes. An alarm will sound once they discover you are missing. You were going to be my patients, and you were late. I was looking for the guards who were meant to be delivering you. My name is Dr. Ventrowe, I am the Supreme Ruler’s physician—personal physician,” he added with a certain degree of pride.
“Well, congratulations, Doc,” snarled Tremaine. “Firstly, you are not touching our brains, are we clear about that?”
“Yes, but—”
“Secondly, we need you to take us to Leah and get us out of this hell hole, now.”
Doctor Ventrowe and his little assistant shivered and cringed when Tremaine mentioned Leah’s name.
“Thirdly, why the hell are you cringing like that?”
“Never say our great leader’s name, or her Royal Highness. Only use their titles. It is the Trimadian tradition and a show of respect.”
“Well lovely to know,” Mason added sarcastically. “We don’t have time for niceties, take us to Leah now. Hey, who is your little friend?”
Doctor Ventrowe looked at his little servant. “Oh, this is my part time assistant. Just call him Stunt, that is not his proper name, but the Trimadian guards call him that. He provides entertainment and all sorts, he is very good.”
“Hi, Stunt,” Pete said. “What race are you?”
“Trimadian,” a little squeaky voice piped up.
“Don’t lie, Stunt. I’m sorry. He likes to think he is Trimadian. He wants a Cathexistome as much as you want your freedom. He is a Cantal. He got a childhood disease that stunted his growth, hence his name. He still believes implantation of a Cathexistome could have prevented or cured the disease, and he would do anything to get one now to make him stronger.”
“Okay,” said Pete, “This is Mason and Tremaine, call me Pete. Please take us to Leah, her Royal Highness; we need to talk with her urgently.”
Dr. Ventrowe looked imploringly at the three of them, “Please, if I help you, will you take us with you?”
“What! Why the hell would you want to leave?” Tremaine exclaimed.
“The same reason you do. I know Scaba all right. He is my contact. I have been relaying information to him to help the rebel movement. I can provide great intel to him and you humans about this place and the Trimadians.”
“So you are a spy?”
“Yes, though lately I have been a little out of touch. Since the queen’s arrival security has really gone overboard. But after that terrible kidnap ordeal by one of Lord Talokta’s soldiers who was undercover on Ahmadeus, I am not surprised. But I stay in touch with my fellow Septens, Cantal rebels and some of you humans are allies.”
“Well, we are pretty sure the Trimadians have wiped out the Cantal rebel base on Ahmadeus. Your beloved boss has told us that he knows of the spies in his ranks, but he doesn’t seem too concerned.”
The two aliens looked at each other, a classic look of fear growing in their eyes.
“Though he could be lying to us, I would not trust anything he says,” added Pete quickly.
Tremaine looked at Mason. “With his knowledge and the fact he is a doc, he could help us steal a ship and get out of here.”
“I do have a confession,” Ventrowe stated, “I was going to try to wait until after the ceremony, when the security would ease off and try to help you obtain a vessel to leave here—part of a plan I was devising with Scaba and your man b
“Our boss? Paul Pilcher.”
“No, this one was called Calham. Denver Calham.”
The men looked at each other wonderingly.
“However, the Supreme Ruler demanded a few hours ago that you have an operation which was good and bad.”
“What do you mean?” asked Tremaine.
“Good, as I was going to finally meet you and make contact, and bad as I would have had to place some devices in your head that without the proper procedure to remove would cause you extreme pain and—” He looked wide eyed at them. “Death.”
“I told Scaba my ship’s technical knowledge is limited, but I was counting on your expertise to help. I was positioned years ago on the Zeloid moon while distributing medicines during a war between the Trimadians and the Zeloids. The Trimadians captured me and were going to execute me until they recognized my skills as a doctor and well, here I am. The Trimadians love being looked after by all types of servants.”
Pete noticed the pained look on his colleagues’ faces. “I might be able to fly a ship while I have a Cathexistome inside me, it may give me the necessary knowledge.”
Mason turned to Pete. “How do you control the entity in you, Pete?”
“I‑I’m not sure, instinct, will power, who knows. Look, I don’t feel any different. I mean, I don’t think I will change and turn against you guys, like a Cantal implanted would, but keep an eye on me.”
“Okay,” said Tremaine. “We are running out of time, ladies, let’s go now!”
They hurried out of the laboratory.
“Is she far away?” Pete asked Ventrowe.
“It is my job to know the routes, and I have authorization to use the Supreme Ruler’s personal lifts that would get us there in only a few minutes, if we don’t meet any opposition.”
They turned up the white corridor and made several other turns. The feeling of disorientation again was spreading through them. “Shit,” said Pete. “I think we need some breadcrumbs.”
They came to another T intersection that you would swear was the same as where they started from, except for the fact the corridor to their right was a cul de sac. They turned right and stopped at the end.
“What now?” whispered Mason.
Dr. Ventrowe lifted his hand up and pushed a ring on his finger to the wall. The wall changed into a doorway. “Brehm,” commanded Ventrowe. The door opened and revealed a small lift that they had to squeeze into as it was a confined area. A blaring noise shrieked in their ears.
“Colhm!” Ventrowe shouted and the door slid shut. “That is the alarm I was telling you about. Remember, not only do they know you are missing but are in possession of uniforms and weapons, and they know you will try to escape.”
The little Cantal was hopping from one foot to the other in his nervousness.
“He isn’t going to pee himself, is he?” Tremaine commented.
Ventrowe was frowning, or at least they thought he was. “I think I had best take you underground to a ship. Forget about her Royal Highness. Think about it‑that would be the one place the Trimadians would look, and when they catch you, it will be the mines for life, if they don’t shoot you first.”
Pete hesitated. “No, not necessarily, they would think that a direct escape would be our priority, and we have been to those cursed mines. I think we would rather take a chance and get out of here than live our lives in hell,” he stated. “Anyway, if we had Leah they won’t shoot us.”
“So, come on,” yelled Mason. “Take us to Leah, she is our bargaining chip out of here, don’t make us use unnecessary force!”
“Very well,” sighed a crestfallen Ventrowe. Chances of leaving were slight. He wondered if the Supreme Ruler was watching now, waiting for them to walk into one of his vicious, deadly games. He shuddered as he commanded the lift, and they were on their way.
Tremaine spoke up, “Gotta know something, Doc.”
Ventrowe lifted an orange tinged eyebrow.
“If you are on our side, you know, the good guys, would you have gone through with that mind altering operation on us, or just pretend to?”
Ventrowe sighed. “Trimadians rule by fear and are by nature suspicious. I would have no choice but to do it, a simple scan and they would know the truth, and would execute me for treason. If I claimed it was unsuccessful, he would see me as incompetent, and that is an embarrassment I cannot afford, being his top personal physician. If, for any reason, I used an excuse to try to get out of it, he would instantly be suspicious. My friends, in today’s politics, it doesn’t take much to class anyone as a spy.”
“You don’t have much freedom here do you.”
Ventrowe grinned, or so Tremaine thought he did. “Well, they treat us very well as long as we do what is expected of us.”
“Great, a happy slave,” murmured Tremaine.
“Life is what you make it, given limited choices.”
“You would get on very well with Pete here, our resident optimist,” Tremaine commented.
Just then, Ventrowe commanded the lift again and the door opened. They peered around the door of the lift and surprise, surprise, more long corridors in both directions.
Tremaine groaned.
“Follow me.” Ventrowe paced up the corridor, glancing at his ring. He picked up the pace to a jog, and they all kept up, except the little Cantal who sprinted and blocked his ears from the alarm. About ten seconds later the alarm stopped.
“Is that good or bad?” Tremaine gasped.
Ventrowe turned his head as he jogged. “Means nothing. The Supreme Ruler probably stopped it as it does hurt your ears after a bit.”
The men noticed Ventrowe’s ring pulse and glow different colors. “Oh, they are busy alright,” Ventrowe commented. He raised his hand up and signaled to hide behind the torch pedestals.
About five seconds later, at least fifteen heavily armed guards came marching double time down the corridor towards them and passed within feet of the hiding men.
“Phew, that was lucky.” Mason breathed when they had gone. “That ring, does that have something to do with warning what is around you?”
“Yes, the ring is calibrated to sense heat, including certain life forms, like Cathexistomes and glows certain colors and pulses to tell the wearer the distance, type of entity, how many, armed or not and so on. You just need to know how to interpret it. It is not standard issue for any soldier. They are worn by the fleet masters, higher ranking Trimadians, their spies, and the Supreme Ruler, even though he does not need a ring with his powers. But, he uses one for practical reasons like communicating with his men—oh and myself, being his personal physician.”
“Ahh, comes with the job, that’s nice,” Tremaine snorted.
“So, what about this ring we took off one of the guards before we met you?” Pete held it up. “It just keeps glowing red continuously.”
“Take it off now and give it to me,” Ventrowe demanded. “It’s a wonder they haven’t tracked us now.”
He gave it to Stunt and said, “You know what to do and quick.”
Stunt took off like the wind.
“Okay, so what was that all about?” Tremaine asked.
“Each ring is only intended for its officially assigned wearer and no one else, unless it has been re calibrated by a Verone Elite member or the Supreme Ruler himself. That is to stop any being stolen and misused. In that case, it simply glows red if it is in the hands of another Trimadian or it probably wouldn’t work for anyone else. It senses each Cathexistome’s energy signature, a bit like DNA in a human. It is termed a dead ring because although it won’t work any more, it sends out a honing signal so the culprits can be tracked down. I have not yet experienced this but, there is a dark rumor that Lord Talokta added an enhancement so after a countdown the ring will explode, just a little one to blow the arm off the being who possesses it. That is why I asked Stunt to hurry.”
Pete asked the
“To the closest guards’ lavatory facility.”
Just then, Stunt came flying up to them.
“Everything alright?”
“Yes, no one was there, and I managed to flush it down so it should be in the pipes.”
“Well, we will soon learn if the Trimadian master added a little gift to the device. He derives a sadistic enjoyment through blowing things up. Right now let’s get to Her Majesty and hope she does not have company.”
Mason looked at the orange alien in a new light. “Look, if we are caught, just tell them you were our hostage.”
Ventrowe didn’t bother to explain to these naïve humans that Trimadians do not show mercy, no matter what. He would be, simply, collateral damage and blown away along with these fools.
“Come on, let’s move,” Pete said.
They traveled another twenty meters including two left turns and Ventrowe signaled again. “Just around the next corner is a corridor that runs alongside the queen’s private quarters. If all goes well, and they have not caught on to where we are, we can use the soft lifts and be out of here in no time. Now be aware, there will be at least two guards outside.”
Ventrowe was cut short by Gloctol fire splattering half a foot above his head.
The men threw themselves behind the pedestals and instantly returned fire. The most amazing energy balls shot out of the weapons, and they had to brace themselves for the strong recoil.
The two guards who were on duty outside Leah’s door had tracked them.
Mason shouted at Tremaine to cover him and rolled over adjacent to the other side of the corridor while Tremaine let off ten rapid shots. Mason rolled up to his knees behind a pedestal and fired off half a dozen shots. The fourth met its target with a scream of pain. The other guard skillfully twisted back and forward making himself a harder target.
The guard failed to see Pete stand up and shoot him squarely in the face, but when the guard went down, a loose fireball clipped Pete in the shoulder, spinning him against the wall, and landing on top of a frantic Ventrowe.
Within a space of ten seconds, the battle was over. The smell of burnt flesh was nauseating.
“Here, here,” Ventrowe yelled. Pete had grabbed his shoulder and he was doubled up in pain. The flesh was torn to shreds and he was losing blood rapidly.
“Help him, doc,” Mason yelled as Tremaine checked for any more guards.
“There are no more guards close by according to the ring,” Ventrowe shouted. “But I have to get your friend back to the medical quarters, if we are to save him.”
“No, go on without me, please,” Pete hissed under his breath.
Tremaine and Mason scooped Pete up as gently as possible. Mason shouted at Ventrowe, “Right, doc! LEAH NOW! She cured herself when she was wounded by Marone. She may be his only chance.”
They hurried as fast as they could up the corridor trying to keep up with Ventrowe.
Tremaine commented, “I wonder what would happen if we blasted Kalvich with a Gloctol.”
Once more, a flexible Ventrowe turned his head as he kept running, “Oh, that wouldn’t do a thing. He was born a god and therefore is immortal. He can change shape at will, whether it is energy or solid. I assume a Gloctol fireball would simply go through him, or if it hit him, his body would self mend. He has chosen a humanoid form as the gods created Cantals and humans in their own image. That is common knowledge. According to the Supreme Ruler, the Gods are quite vain and prefer the humanoid look. It is most desired for pleasurable reasons too.”
The men stared at him. “Well, I am his personal physician. I am privy to quite a bit you know. In all essence, all gods are powerful aliens. No one, not even I, know their true form. He could be similar to the Cathexistomes. The energy being…no one knows. But he has no energy creature inside him. I must tell you about the time—”
“Well, thanks for the untimely pedantic analysis, doc, but if you don’t knock at Leah’s door now I’m going to fucking shoot you and see what you have inside!” Tremaine yelled.
A most concerned Ventrowe diligently consulted his ring, scurried a few more feet, pressed it against the wall and a huge double doorway appeared.
“This is the main entrance, and the ring shows there is another private entrance further along.”
It was an awesome experience. Ventrowe noticed their faces. “Nothing unusual, it’s a Trimadian light field. Any solid object can be hidden under a light field. It is an excellent tool to keep prying eyes away from certain parts of his fortress. The guards’ protocol would be to activate it for the queen’s protection. I cannot tell you any technical details, as it is not my field of expertise. Only scientists and a few masters possess that kind of knowledge. The ring activates the light field making the object visible to the light spectrum that our eyes are accustomed. The Trimadians have created matter that can be non existent to touch when the object is invisible; I believe it is to do with dimensional matter transfer. It is indeed a wonder.”
Tremaine ignored his incessant waffling, but Mason, being a physics engineer, was fascinated. “So, are you saying that they can not only bend light with this ring instrument but can also make solid matter disappear? They can manipulate physics in a way that we could never think possible?”
“The Trimadian engineers are so far advanced in this field, unfortunately they leave you and us Septens behind with their technology. Besides, if you took on the Trimadians head to head in warfare right now you would be wiped out.”
A loud moan from Pete brought everyone back to the reality of the situation.
Tremaine snapped, “Okay, doc, thanks for the honest overload of negative information. We will worry about that later. What is the next technical step to do?”
“Knock at the door,” Ventrowe smiled.
Tremaine rolled his eyes up. God, that Septen’s attitude pisses me off.
Chapter 42—The Spying Game