The Rising Sun: Episode 5
“… More than an hour.” finished an equally shocked Dantox, his voice just as bleak.
The two of them looked at Nano, who gave a nod.
“And sadly, that is less than what we have: an hour” said Nano softly. “Because this bomb goes off in this coming hour … and the ticking has started. We will need to get there well within an hour, if we stand a chance to save the planet. If not…” He shook his head solemnly. “We shall simply be wasting our resources .. And lives trying.”
“Wait, are you saying…” Dantox began slowly, who seemed to be applying some quick, cold logic himself. “That … if this planet is too far away, and if it seems that we won’t be able to reach it well within an hour … we should abandon it?”
Nano gave a strained sigh. “Only for the greater good. The good of the other seven planets. If we waste ourselves trying to rescue this one planet, when it is clear that we cannot … then we would achieve nothing in the end, and we would be compromising the chances we had of saving the other seven. Instead of that, we could leave that one planet and focus all our resources on tracking and finding the bombs in the other seven. That may be more prudent.”
“But what if this planet’s not so far away,” ventured Mantra. “and we stand a chance of reaching it and saving it in an hour?…”
Nano waited for a second, and then broke a firm nod. “Then we go for it … but only if the journey to the planet comes well within one hour. Because let us not forget - we need to go there, and then find the bomb. We shall be needing time for that as well.”
“Absolutely.” agreed Dantox. “If we are going to take this risk, we need to make sure that it’s one that’s well calculated. And well worth it.”
“We’ll first find out how far this planet is,” said Mantra. “And how long the journey would take.” He snapped around to face Zevinog and held out his hand, “z-com.”
Terrified, the man produced his z-com, and passed it to Mantra. Among the z-com’s many functions were the recorded distances between planets. And Mantra checked the distance between this planet, and the next one which was about to go off, located in the outer spectrum. And he estimated -
“Forty minutes should do it.” He heard the bite of urgency in his own voice. “The journey to this planet in the outer spectrum will take about forty minutes.”
“Leaving us with a twenty minute cushion to find and destroy the bomb.” said Dantox.
Mantra smiled. “If all goes well. Let’s not forget the third party that has a say in this game … fate.”
Nano sighed. “Indeed … and even then, we are leaving too much to chance. This planet’s bomb is the next in line to go off. And the clock is ticking. We need to find and destroy the bomb within an hour. But getting there itself swallows a massive chunk of this desperate one hour … This may be a very unworthy risk.”
The three of them settled to a thoughtful silence again, and Mantra let his thoughts run over all the options, possibilities … They were now reasonably far from the planet, which was buried deep in the outer spectrum.
He frowned, thinking of Galinor. The third Nyon master to survive. Galinor was possibly closer to the outer spectrum. But even if that were so, Mantra knew that Galinor was completely unguarded. Mantra and Dantox would have the watchmen with them, an entire army to protect them as they travelled. Galinor, who held important information, and was one of the three last surviving Nyon masters, did not. If he went venturing across planets, he would risk getting caught by the Naxim or worse … by the Xeni. And Mantra knew that that could not happen. The Xeni would squeeze out everything Galinor knew, if they happened to find him. And among everything he knew, there was the information regarding the plague crystal, and its current whereabouts. The one piece of information that the Xeni could not be allowed to know at any cost … at even the cost of the ten planets which were going to be blown off.
Sighing to himself, Mantra turned to Nano with a determined look. “We’ll have to chance it. The three of us will journey to this planet and try to destroy the bomb. We’ll send the rest of the watchmen to spread out and get the last seven.”
He shifted his gaze to Dantox, who was stroking his cheek, thinking for a moment. The Brownling’s eyes were angled in a thoughtful frown. He then exhaled and nodded. “I think so too. Abandoning an entire planet would, when we have a chance to save it - even a small one -would be foolhardy and wrong.” Turning to look at Nano, he went on. “No matter what the risk here is, I agree with Mantra: we should take hold of this small chance, no matter how small it is, to save the bomb.”
Nano held Dantox’s gaze for a second of thought, before moving his bead like, fiery eyes over Mantra. Mantra knew that Nano came with his own intelligence. The leader of the spirits of Elderon would be prone to a higher reasoning which catered to a level of good that surpassed their perception of it. His was a brand of intelligence that also catered to a far more extreme version of good: if sacrificing one entire planet would aid them in saving seven others, he knew Nano would prefer that option. And would oppose any other.
But after a long, thought absorbed silence, Nano nodded feebly and said, “Very well, then … I guess this is the one risk we have to take.”
They had the rest of the watchmen army waiting for their command at the outskirts of this city. The next bomb would go off in the next hour. Sending a call to the authorities to pick a restrained Zevinog up, the two of them left in the hover car they’d arrived in. They reached the place beyond the city, where the rest of the army of watchmen awaited. Giving them the location of the other eight bombs, they ordered the army to spread out to the eight locations to destroy the bomb.
Mantra, Dantox and Nano accompanied one of the groups to the bomb which was about to go off next … the one which was located at the outer spectrum. They estimated about forty minutes to get to the planet, leaving them with a twenty minutes’ cushion to destroy the bomb.
If all went well.
10
Quiroc, Cluster 46
A dry scraping noise pierced the desert’s silence.
The sun had settled in a position directly over the land, its scorching heat flowing over the land below. The meandering sands of the desert roamed up and down, sprawling forth endlessly. The day’s heat, with the sun resting directly overhead, was almost unbearable.
The scraping noise continued, the only sound heard over the silence.
Glistening mirages rose over the desert on all four sides. The watery reflections rippled in mid air, clear and real enough to absorb any stray dweller’s attention.
A man in an orange cloak dragged a sack like object over the desert sands. The scraping noise continued as he pulled the sack along with him over the desert sands.
Krostus’s cloak fluttered in the thick, hot wind lapping at him from in front. The sack, which might have contained a few kilos of rice or grain, came tailing behind him as he dragged it forth with one hand.
Pausing for the first time, Krostus heaved a slow, deep breath, and wiped his brow. The intensity of the heat of the desert in this planet was unbearable.
Krostus released the one hand he was holding the sack with, and walked over in front of it. Heaving another slow breath, he sat over the sack, allowing himself a moment of rest. A blissful, momentary relief spread over his limbs. The cushiony state of the sack’s contents felt warm and cozy as he rested over it. While the stickiness of the desert’s air wrapped like a cloak around him. Beads of sweat came trickling down his face. He arched his back, placing both hands by either side of the sack beneath, and gave himself over to the momentary comfort.
Then, forcibly keeping himself from wavering, Krostus re gathered his focus. He knew that he needed to cross this desert and reach his destination without faltering.
Drawing himself back up, he heaved the sack, placing it over his shoulder, and continued down the rough sandy ground.
11
The gentle rumble of the ship’s engine was all that was heard. It was a s
oothing sound, or at least Zardin thought so. One of the very few noises in this world that Zardin enjoyed listening to. Without sight, his hearing was sharpened. And as a result, every minute noise that crossed was loudened manifold to him. And he found that rather irritating: most of the noises that flooded him all over tended to be annoying, unmodulated and stupid. Such as the bickering, irritating voices he heard all around him. The hum of a ship’s engine was one of the rare, composed noises that Zardin’s ears enjoyed picking up.
The ship’s engine revved on, while he sat on the ground in the middle of the small hull in the ship. A large glass window lay by the wall opposite to him, through which space could be seen.
Zardin allowed his thoughts to mull over the multitude of tasks now at hand, and a slight rustle of disturbance found him. The plague crystal … Has slipped past our grasp yet again.
He did not expect the horde of Zelgron to fail. But then again, most things that had happened were not within his expectations, or anyone’s. What mattered was twisting things to suit his expectations. And twisting things was what Zardin enjoyed and did best. He frowned, running through the current situation. But he knew that it was of little use: the plague crystal was now completely off their reach. The Nyon would have seen to it that it was. Finding it was not going to be easy.
It certainly is a problem, but not one to be wasted worries upon…
Casting the prick aside, Zardin sat straighter and took in a deep, cooling breath. And then, as he had done thousands of times till this day, he allowed silence to settle within him, so that the many bickering voices within him muted. And as the minutes passed, and his mind floated away into meditation, the same entrancing quiet stole through him again. And it was in this quiet that he found all his tools. All his powers. All that was ever needed…
He let the peaceful calm absorb him whole, so that time completely fell off his grasp. And minutes trickled forth softly…
Half an hour had passed when a beeping noise split the silence, rising over the rhythmic hum of the engine. Zardin felt the same spark of irritation as he felt in a large fraction of his waking moments as he opened his eyes, returning to the world where he was needed. He reached into his robe and pulled out his z-com, which had an incoming voice call. As he tapped the button to answer the call, the beeping ceased, and a voice came, “Permission to enter, my lord.”
It was one of Zardin’s men, waiting outside the door to this room, of course. This was his foremost, and best lieutenant. His favourite among them all. But even he had enough sense to ask for permission before entering into an audience with Zardin. As he rightly needed to.
“Enter.” said Zardin, smiling.
The door hissed open behind him, and Krostus walked in carrying what appeared to be a large rice sack. Without hesitating, he tossed the sack to the floor right before Zardin and it rolled over, unwrapping to reveal Galinor’s face inside of it. He was unconscious. A thread of blood ran down his mouth. His eyes were half closed. But he was alive, and that was what was important.
“Good.” Zardin said, permitting Krostus the view of his smile as he turned and rose. “Very good.”
Krostus smoothed his cloak and bowed mildly.
Zardin turned over to stare at the unconscious Nyon sealed in a rice sack, on the floor beneath his feet. “Nyon master Galinor has done us the favour of reaching us … with a lot of valuable information.” He bent down, his face hovering a feet from that of the unconscious master on the floor. “Galinor will illuminate a lot of things for us, now, won’t he? He’ll tell us where and in what position the plague crystal is. He’ll tell us what the Nyon have done with it, and what they plan to do with it. He’ll tell us all there is to know about our enemies.” His wicked smile grew brighter. “And he’ll enjoy it. Or we hope he does. Because it’ll be the one of the last things left for him to enjoy.”
Straightening back up, he turned to Krostus.
“Good job, Krostus.” He patted him on the shoulder, and sank back to a seated position on the floor. “Now, put him to the side, away for now.”
Krostus walked over, bent down and heaved the body of the unconscious Nyon. Zardin added, “And be sure to show our guest our wondrous hospitality.”
Krostus paused, nodded, and then hurled the body violently to the side of the room. The body went smashing into the metallic wall so that a depression as wide as the body formed on it, before dropping and rolling once. Zardin thought he might have heard a bone or two crack.
“Wondrous.”
Krostus stood before him, his posture stiff in unwavering attention.
“Have a seat, dear boy,” Zardin gestured to the floor ahead of him. Krostus slowly trotted over and sat opposite to Zardin, both of them now staring into each other, a metre’s distance between their meditative positions.
“We are closer than ever.” said Zardin. “And soon, we will be there.”
He paused, stroking his chin silently. A silence Krostus gladly shared. This was what he loved most about his favourite lieutenant, despite the fact that he was the best cold blooded killer there was. Except for him, of course.
The two of them sat there, still and silent, one meditating, the other staring blankly into space. Then, as Zardin ended another short stint of calmed meditation, his eyes drifted to the body lying by the side, and Krostus turned along with him.
Galinor hadn’t come around yet.
It was loads better for him that way. thought Zardin. But unfortunately for both of us, time’s running short … and we need Galinor to get up and co operate with us, and give us all that he knows. Especially about the plague crystal’s present whereabouts. And then, he can go back to sleep. A much warmer sleep, that is.
He turned to Krostus, the casual smile returning to stretch his lips. “Wake him.”
As lights seeped back in slowly, Galinor’s eyelids flickered open. And then he felt his heart stop for a long, unpleasant moment.
Standing over him were two men, one of whom he recognised … He had seen this one, with the deadly pale skin and the blank, eyeless sockets, in the temple. He knew at once what was going on. I’ve been captured by the Xeni … But how?
He felt his memory soar back to him, and the answer came creeping up to him as he recounted the vision of his encounter with the man standing by the right, in the orange cloak - he had been attacked by this brutal creature in the middle of the desert he was passing through in the planet he had been sheltering in. He had stood no chance against the orange cloaked felon, and he had been subdued almost helplessly. He then remembered faint wisps of memory fly through in between … of him being sealed in a rice sack, and being dragged across the desert…
“Good morning.” said the pale man, smiling. “Welcome to another beautiful day. Not to mention your last.”
He slowly bent down over Galinor, who felt his resolve go granite - he knew what this was all about. And he would not submit. He would not yield. He would die first.
“You’re making a big mistake, by thinking you’re getting information out of me.” he whispered.
“You’re the one making a mistake, by thinking we aren’t” said Zardin. “And every mistake comes with a painful price.”
Galinor slowly bowed to the circumstance, to fate … and the acceptance filled him: the acceptance that this was the end. And as he met the worst and embraced it, he felt powered. It sent a surge of boldness and courage through his veins. He arched his head higher, his teeth now gritted.
“You don’t have anything to scare me with. I don’t care about the difference between life and death now.”
“And you never will.” said Zardin. “Because there is no difference between life and death. The difference comes only between death and a more painful death.”
“Go on, then!” snarled Galinor. “Kill me. Like you killed all our other masters … but you can never kill what we stood for.”
Zardin felt a soft laugh ripple within his throat. “We al
ready have.” He bent closer to the Nyon master and whispered, “There is nothing left for you to protect, master Galinor. We have already won.” He placed a hand over Galinor’s face, stroking it tenderly. “Go on, tell me. Where is the plague crystal? What have the Nyon done with it? I may spare your life if I find the information satisfactory. I’m not making promises, though.”
The silence crawled on, and the fiery light in Galinor’s eyes refused to fade. A valiant smile touched his lips. “You’re not getting anything from me while I’m alive.”
Zardin continued to stay bent over him for a quiet second. A faint grin hovered across his lips. Licking his razor sharp teeth, he rose slowly.
“So be it.” He turned to Krostus, smiling. “End his misery.”
Galinor didn’t even flinch as the orange cloaked Xeni stepped forward … and then unleashed a brutal, brainjolting kick right to his head.
Galinor felt the world spin…
Merciless, the Xeni’s foot came colliding over his head in a second, deadlier blow.