Too Far Gone, page 12
part #3 of The Jaxon Grey Chronicles Series
"Are there still Scynthians in the area?" Alexitus questioned him.
"The last of them disappeared from my radar hours ago," Demtrius replied.
"To be safe,” Alexitus answered, “we will need to wait until tomorrow to send out the extraction team, just in case there are any lingering Scynthians."
"I understand," Demtrius said. "I still have auxiliary power, so I'll stay warm enough, and I have an emergency pack with food and water. I will keep my radio on for now until the battery begins to drain." There was a short pause, “How did we fare?”
"You did well," Alexitus praised him. "Very well."
"Thank you, Captain Alexitus," Demtrius replied. "I only wish more of our brethren could have made it through with me."
"It is a miracle that even you are alive," Dolvin commented.
"I am very aware of that," said Demtrius, "and I am very grateful to still be here."
"As are we," said Dolvin feelingly.
"Get some rest," said Alexitus, "and we will see you tomorrow, if all things permit it."
"Very well," said Demtrius.
The next day, Delfwig and I, accompanied by two other Dotarans, twin brothers named Crispin and Thristin, set forth for the destroyed Aramis on one of their few dondobah ships, the Pothos, only instead of flying, we remained submerged so as to avoid detection. It was a good thing they had designed their craft to be both ships of the sky and water; our small team would have run a much higher risk of detection by flying.
Before we left, Delfwig was pulled aside by the three remaining captains. They spoke to him with very serious expression, but they spoke almost in whispers, and I was only able to hear their last remarks.
"Locate and retrieve Demtrius as quickly as possible," said Alexitus, "and search for any other survivors that might be out there, but do so quickly.” Alexitus looked over to me, seeing me watching them. “And don’t forget the other task we have asked of you.”
"We will make haste," Delfwig replied.
We walked away, and when we were out of earshot, I turned to Delfwig. "What was that about?"
"I cannot discuss that with you at this time," he responded, "but you will find out soon enough, I’m sure."
I didn't appreciate his answer, as I always like to be well informed, but I was content to wait. Knowing Demtrius was alive and required our help was all I needed to know at that time.
The water in this northern sea was astonishingly clear, and we sped through it like a torpedo on our way back to the Aramis, or rather what was left of the Aramis. The trip on the whole was uneventful, save for an almost catastrophic encounter with a massive Tatoran whale. We had become surrounded by a large herd of walrus-like creatures when we passed by Mercer, and they proceeded to follow our craft for some time, racing past us and then coming around again. Suddenly the whole heard scattered, and the huge head of a massive whale came straight for us from beneath, its gaping mouth ready to swallow us whole. Delfwig made a quick evasive maneuver, and our submersible nearly collided with the gigantic sea creature, passing within inches of its enormous head. I was gripping my seat anxiously as we sped past and caught sight of its large, tranquil eye. I could have sworn the creature was staring right back at me, and then it blinked and looked away, apparently uninterested in us.
We made it to the battle site the afternoon of that same day, and then made contact with Demtrius. Our radar detected there were no enemy craft in the area, but we still took caution as we docked the submersible and went ashore. We all wore completely white suits to better conceal us from any eyes that may have been spying from above.
Fortunate for us, the Dotarans had recently installed tracking devices in all of their flyers. They had learned from their past mishap with Demtrius, when neither he nor his flyer could be found after he crash landed on the plains outside of the Aanthoran jungle. If they had already had the trackers installed at that time, then Demtrius would have been rescued immediately and I might never have met him. I can’t even imagine what would have become of me if I hadn’t met him in that dark cell under Aanthora’s lofted city, and it suddenly struck me how so many seemingly unconnected and irrelevant events had come together at the right time, or wrong time, like it had all been designed. Even my presence here on Tatora, I was beginning to believe, was more than just an accident. I don’t really know how to explain it any better, just one of my gut intuitions, but it gave me a chilling feeling to potentially be the puppet on someone else’s strings. I can only do what comes naturally to me though, strings or no strings, and I am still determined to forge my own path in life.
We found Demtrius in short time. Delfwig led our group, following his handheld tracker, until we finally came upon a deep, narrow hole in the ice, at the bottom of which we could see Demtrius' flyer.
"Are you comfortable down there?" I shouted jokingly.
I heard his muffled reply, "Quite. Would you like to join me?"
"Yeah, be right down," I shouted back.
Crispin, one of the accompanying Dotarans, pulled his portable mattertron from off his back and activated the device. Demtrius' flyer then slowly rose from the hole and was placed gently on the ice. The flyer was so badly damaged, however, that the hatch wouldn't open automatically, forcing Delfwig, Crispin, and Thristin to use their handy laser pens. It took some time, but eventually they were able to carve an opening and Demtrius was pulled out.
“Have you found any other survivors,” Demtrius asked with a heavy concern.
“You are the first,” Delfwig replied with equal sorrow, “but, by the hand of Carnyle, you won’t be the last.”
“I hope you’re right,” said an exhausted Demtrius.
"I'm guessing your ship is completely inoperable?" Delfwig asked.
"Yes, unfortunately," Demtrius replied. "I've already set the self-destruct sequence."
"Excellent," Delfwig replied. “We’ll need to do the same for any other ships that are still intact.” He looked at his battered superior, “Perhaps you should return to our ship and begin recuperating?”
“Once we’ve searched the area for any survivors,” Demtrius replied obstinately.
We searched, but, to everyone’s dismay, not one Dotaran survivor could be found. Most of the flyers had been completely destroyed by the powerful plasma blasts of the Scynthians, but a few were still almost fully intact, though their pilots had invariably expired. Using their compact mattertrons, Crispin and Thristin removed the dead from their temporary tombs and brought them back to the ship. They would take them to the Iccaryn for a proper Dotaran funeral. We never found Waylan, though.
Meanwhile, Demtrius and Delfwig set the few ships to self-destruct.
“Why do you need to destroy your ships?” I asked them. “It seems risky to stay here any longer than necessary.”
"To prevent anyone else from stealing the technology, of course" Delfwig replied. “We can’t have the Tatorans learning how to fly, now can we?”
"Then what about the Aramis?” I asked, pointing at the massive ship buried halfway in the ice.
"A risk the captains are willing to take,” Delfwig replied. “They want us to preserve the Aramis as best we can for later repair and reuse.”
"They plan to rebuild the ship?" I asked.
"Yes," said Delfwig, "and if not the whole ship, then at least its usable parts, like the rest of the upgraded material that Pharon installed before he was killed."
“Pharon is dead?” Demtrius asked, shocked by the revelation. I had forgotten he was yet unaware of all that had happened since he left in his flyer to defend the ship.
“During the attack,” I replied, shaking my head gravely.
“That is very unfortunate,” he replied with genuine sorrow. “We may not have agreed on much, but I dare say Pharon was a credit to his race.”
We soon boarded the Pothos and Delfwig took to the controls.
“I’m so sorry,” I said to Demtrius, who sat beside me. “I can’t imagine how you’re feeling right now, but I hope you know I’m here for you.” It felt inadequate, but I’m not very good in these situations, as I’m sure you know.
“Thank you,” he replied. “You are a good man, Jaxon.”
“What happens now?” I asked him.
"It’s time to start anew," Demtrius replied, speaking to all of us, "and the future is best paved with lessons learned from the past."
I liked the saying, and thought I would probably use it again in the future.
I've written everything I thought pertinent thus far, and as I sit here in the Pothos with Demtrius, Delfwig, and the other two Dotarans, I can't help but think of all the tragedies that have occurred since I came to Tatora. I fear we might be too far gone at this point, but, even though we have all lost so much and find ourselves at our lowest, I still focus on the climb ahead.
I still have you in my sights Ryane, and nothing will stop me from achieving that particular vision. I can only hope that this manuscript finds its way to you as I am somehow sure my last one did. I don't know how I know this; it’s just another intuitive gut-feeling that I have. I've said before that I believe you and I share some sort of special extra-sensory connection, as if we could almost subconsciously read one another's minds, and I believe that statement holds true even over the vast expanse of space that separates us. I also believe that this uncanny form of telepathy was greatly enhanced by the Scynthian serum I received. If I am correct in this belief, then I hope this manuscript brings you some semblance of understanding as to what really happened that night in the cabin and every day since. I’m just sorry I’m not there to describe it to you in person, but, hopefully, one day soon I might still be able to.
Interlogue One
Ryane’s Plan
Ryane finished reading the second journal and closed it, absolutely disgusted and infuriated by what she had read. The Scynthians were indeed despicable, and it made her want to scream, but she thought better of it.
Just then, an idea sprang into her mind on how she might effectuate her escape. She quickly flipped through the pages to the map and ripped it from the book, and then tore the map from the first journal as well.
“I figured it out!” she exclaimed. “I know where to find Jaxon!”
Two human servants came walking in, one of them using the metal cuff on his forearm to open the portal.
“Get Orric!” she yelled at them. “I have the answer he’s looking for!”
Before they even turned to leave, Orric appeared in the entryway, quite pleased. “You have some information?”
“Yes, I know where they are,” Ryane replied. “I can show you on the map in the book.”
“How can you be certain?” Orric asked.
“Jaxon and I used to do this when we were kids,” Ryane replied. “We would make a picture and copy it, but then add a small change on the copy, and that is where we would meet.”
“Clever for an Earthling,” Orric remarked.
“Come here and I’ll show you,” Ryane encouraged him. She put one map on top of the other and studied them. “See, there!” she pointed.
In the time it took Orric to bend his head down to see the maps, Ryane had launched her desperate plan. She moved quickly, taking Orric and the two human servants completely by surprise. She lunged straight for the weird, gill-like slits behind Orric's small ears. If she had surmised correctly, then that would be a sensitive spot for the Scynthian creature.
Much to Ryane's delight, she found that she had complete control over Orric holding him in this fashion. She was behind him, clawing at the inside of the gills with her fingers. Orric tried to stop her, shouting some unintelligible language, but she was small and he couldn't reach behind himself to capture her. He had to crouch a bit and lean to his side in an awkward position. She was effectively controlling his movements as she held him by the gills, forcing him to move where she wanted him to go.
"Make no moves," she cautioned him, "and if your servants try to stop me, I'll rip out your gills before either of them has the opportunity." She clutched tighter with her fingers, eliciting a small yelp from Orric. "It will be hard to breathe when you're drowning in your own blood!"
"Let go of me this instant!" he demanded, though without much conviction. "You have no hope of making it out of here alive."
Ryane started to squeeze again, and Orric, feeling the pain and realizing the helplessness of his position, told the two human servants to stand down.
"The only way this ends well for you is if you send me home and away from this place!" Ryane threatened him, while simultaneously tightening her grip on his gills even more.
"Yes, yes!" he said in somewhat of a panic. "We will go to the transport room and I will configure the computer for your immediate departure!"
It almost seemed too easy for Ryane to bend him to her will. She expected more resistance. Perhaps, she thought, Orric is not accustomed to this sort of distress and not having full control over the situation. At any rate, she had the power currently, and she would do what she could while she had it.
First she made the human servants relinquish their metal cuffs, which Ryane had noticed were used to open the portal. Then, together, Orric in front and Ryane trailing from behind with her hands still inside his gills, the two of them left the room. Ryane immediately turned Orric around and made him seal the entryway before they proceeded any further, trapping the human servants inside and thus preventing them from alerting anyone of the situation. Ryane watched as Orric used the metal cuff on his arm to close the portal, and wondered at the hideous creature's awesome technology.
She pushed him down the long white hallway, Orric forced to walk awkwardly in a crouched slant since Ryane was so much shorter. Ryane was very apprehensive, not trusting Orric one bit, and she continuously searched the halls for any sign of reinforcements for the wretched alien. She tried to memorize the layout as best she could in case she was forced to retrace her steps, but it all appeared so bland and similar. Her only option was to let Orric lead the way, so they crept past many blank walls and adjoining hallways, but Orric urged her to continue past all of them.
"It is just up ahead," he kept saying.
Ryane pushed him forward faster.
"Now," she said, "I want some answers."
"Of course," said Orric, surprisingly cooperative, even given the present circumstances. Again Ryane was off-put by how quickly Orric gave in, but she decided he was trying to placate her in hopes of mercy.
"Why do you have those books if they are written for me?” she demanded. “From what I read, no one on Tatora has the ability to transport them, and you claim you don't know where Jaxon is, but those manuscripts are proof that you do! How else could you have obtained them?"
"I actually cannot explain that," he replied calmly. "They just appeared in our transport room, at separate times no less. After we received the first manuscript, we thought perhaps Pharon was still working with us, but that doesn't explain the appearance of the second one, since Pharon was killed before your Jaxon completed it."
"Then who sent them?" she asked.
"We do not know," he replied. "It is a mystery to us, too, but we thought we might use this knowledge to our advantage."
"And you never planned on returning Jaxon or me to Earth, did you? You planned to kill Jax the entire time, and who knows what with me after I had served my purpose!"
"You speak the truth," he admitted.
Ryane tightened her grip again, and Orric hissed in pain.
"We are here!" he said quickly. "We are at the transport room!"
"Open it," she commanded him.
Orric touched a few keys on his cuff's small touch-screen monitor, and the portal opened quickly. Heart pounding, Ryane immediately pushed Orric forward into the room, but she should have looked inside first. To her extreme misfortune, she now found herself in a room full of Scynthians.
"Seize her!" Orric shouted in his own language, and the other Scynthians instantly obeyed.
Ryane had no time to react. Two Scynthians blocked the doorway while several others grabbed her arms and legs so she couldn't move. Ryane thought that if she was going to be caught, she could at least cause Orric the most distress possible before they locked her back up, but before she could do anything, she was thumped on the back of the head by one of the Scynthians and lost her grip on Orric’s gills. The pain dazed her, and then Orric turned upon her and slapped her across the face with vicious force. Her head snapped to the side, and she could taste blood. She had failed, and now, she knew, things would be much worse for her. She didn’t show any fear in the face of her adversaries though, and continued to struggle against their inhuman strength. She wouldn't make it easy for them. Defiance was all she had left.
"Take her back to her room," Orric told the Scynthians, rubbing his neck and gills gently.
Ryane was brought to her room and the portal was quickly opened by one of the Scynthians, using another one of the metal cuffs. The two human servants were still inside, but quickly exited, smirking at her as they went. Ryane guessed their smugness was due to the futility of her escape efforts, and narrowed her eyes at their retreating forms.
The two Scynthians still holding onto her threw Ryane into the room roughly. She landed hard and half-rolled from the force of their toss, but she was up in an instant, fists clenched and ready for action. The two Scynthians remained stolid and indifferent, blocking the entrance. They suddenly sprang to attention though, and then parted from the entryway, allowing Orric to walk past between them.
The portal to the room snapped shut silently behind him, leaving Ryane alone with the hideous Scynthian creature.
"You're going to wish you never did that," he said, seemingly unperturbed, but his arrogant confidence was now replaced with well-placed caution. He stilled rubbed the area around his gills tenderly. "And, I assure you, another opportunity will not present itself."
Ryane was not one to scare easily, but now she feared for her life. She had been handled by the Scynthians with considerable ease, and her escape attempt had gained her nothing except the anger of the cruel and conniving Orric. Even in her fear, though, she maintained an expressionless face, stealing away any satisfaction Orric might get from her discomfort.
