Alutia Rising, Anniversary Edition (Alutia Rising Series, Book 1) (31 page)

As he exited the cafeteria, he had the sudden
urge to test the weapon that hung from the holster at his side. He
pulled it free, turning it over in his hands as he studied its
smooth cylindrical exterior. There appeared to be no trigger, but
he did find what looked like a depressed, concaved button a third
of the way up the rear end of the weapon. Sliding his right hand
into position over its 8 cm diameter, so that his thumb rested atop
the depressed button, caused it to light and push out against his
thumb. His heart beat with excitement as he braced himself and
aimed at the far wall, then slowly depressed the button.

There was no kickback as a green laser bolt,
about five times the diameter of the weapon itself, shot out of the
arrow shaped tip, blasting a hole straight through the wall and
deep into the earth beyond.

“Wow,” he whistled, the button staying
depressed for a second before popping back out, ready to fire
again. He didn't notice any ammo or battery slots, leading him to
believe the weapon had either a set amount of shots, then had to be
discarded, was self-charging, or required a charging station of
some sort when depleted. Content he could protect himself in a
pinch, Trent slid the weapon back into the holster and requested
directions to medical bay one.

“Transport tube station 1324 can be found 50
meters down corridor 2.34, to the right of your current location.”
Trent nodded to the metallic voice as he began to stroll in the
direction indicated, chuckling at the absurdity of the
gesture...
the voice is just in your head after all.

The transport tube station looked similar to
a standard elevator stop you’d find in most buildings, but instead
of the closed doors hiding the elevator shafts from those who
waited in the lobby, 20 meter diameter transparent cylindrical
tubes lined the walls like tightly packed bamboo, vanishing into
the floor and ceiling. When he approached the closest, an
indiscernible door slid open and a transparent transport, except
for the floor and ceiling, appeared within.

After taking a deep breath, and convincing
himself it looked safe, even though the transport appeared to hover
in place, no wires or connectors apparent, he stepped inside. The
door slide shut behind him, and a single handle extended from the
ceiling above.

“Please state your destination,” a pleasant,
feminine voice requested. It took him a second to register that the
voice hadn’t actually come through his ears, since it sounded
differently to the one he had become accustomed to hearing within
his mind.

“Medical bay one, please,” he thought back.
The transport tube shot off at a speed his mind cried should have
sent him flying, causing him to grasp the handle desperately, but
he barely felt the movement.

Gradually, he relaxed, the ride uneventful.
The walls beyond the transparent tube were too dark to see, while
the interior of the transport itself was empty of anything worth
his attention. After about 10 minutes, the tube slowed to a stop,
opening into a grand lobby.

His senses felt as if they would overload at
its exquisite design and striking coloring, being so very unlike
the parts of the base he had previously experienced. Navy blue rugs
covered the open floors before the circling transport tubes, with a
massive fountain set in the center. A statue standing larger than
life in the midst of the tumbling water, made of a swirling
metallic material that he had never before seen. The statue itself
depicted a mountain of a man with a dense bearded, his expression
stoic, almost heroic, standing larger than life. It reminded him
eerily of the man he briefly met before; a Knight Captain Quinn,
though the depiction seemed so very unlike the kindly old man.

The lobby extended into an enormous globular
room, with a domed ceiling that stretched for hundreds of meters,
with large window's set at even intervals on the rising white
walls. The domed ceiling itself was painted with the likeness of
Earth, blue and white light streaming through strategically placed
gaps, making the painting feel alive.

Past the fountain and lobby, in the center of
the large globular room, grew a tree that stood over 100 meters
tall, a redwood, fir, or ash, Trent wasn't quite sure. It stood
atop a grassy knoll that looked much too small to hold its behemoth
trunk, surrounded by a five meter wall of pure silver. Carved
benches and tables surrounded its base, with small bushes and
flowering plants growing between in grassy meadows cut within the
carpeted floor.

“An indoor park?” he wondered as he noticed
more of the seating areas set within tiny meadows situated
throughout the enormous promenade.

His gaze was drawn to the right of the
majestic tree, to an arched double doorway set into the curving
wall with the word,
Medical
, floating just above. On the
opposite side stood another door of much larger size, with the
words,
Hangar Bay
, rounding its edge. Directly across from
Trent, on the far side of the majestic tree, curved a row of doors
with the words,
Command and Control
, streaming just
above.

Trent, beyond amazed at the grandiose sight,
crept slowly out of the lobby, like a gazelle fearful that a
lioness may be hiding in the tall grass. But he lowered his guard
when he found no movement, the room empty, and started trotting
towards the door with the sign medical floating above, thinking it
must lead to medical bay one.

He caught sight of something black and
misshapen littering the floor beyond the large tree, just outside
one of the meadows. As he stared intently at the out of place
objects, the carpet jump up to trip him. He stumbled, and at the
same moment his mind registered what he was actually
seeing...charred and smoldering remains. He recovered quickly,
trying to resist the urge to panic as he started back towards the
transport tube station. A massive door slammed shut, sending him
tumbling in a blast of wind and blocking his only escape.

“Well, well, well, what have we hear,
Enlistment Candidate Trent if I am not mistaken,” a voice boomed as
he recovered his feet, “I was getting so very tired of searching
for you while that disgusting man Quinn acted as if you did not
exist. But now, now I know...and now you are mine. I will make sure
you'll never open that petty mouth of yours again,” Trent would
never forget the voice of Sir Simwa, still as venomous as the first
time he heard it.

Before he could respond, the hanger bay door
split open and four men emerged, wearing green uniforms, with
weapons drawn. Trent's mind went blank as he drew his own while
breaking into a full sprint back towards the door marked medical,
thinking it his only salvation. Three laser bolts burst into the
spot he just vacated, sending up tendrils of smoke and searing
debris. He returned a bolt of his own, splitting the four men as
they dove to the floor for cover. He caught a glimpse of a larger
group emerging from the doorway beyond the smoldering remains, from
the command center. They fired wildly as they ran to cut him off,
the green laser bolts missing well wide.

He glanced over his shoulder only to lose his
footing where the carpet turned to grass, accidently falling into a
roll. Two more laser bolts scorched the air overhead where he’d
just been. He rolled behind a bench, firing two quick shots at his
pursuers, and one at the group trying to cut him off, before
rushing again towards medical. Another group emerged, this one
directly in his path, from the doorway of his salvation. They
raised their weapons, aiming in his direction, and his heart
stopped.

“Damn,” he breathed, realizing his end was
drawing near. He dove towards the curving wall, squatting behind a
narrow plant, prepared to fight his attackers to his last
breath.

Laser bolts streamed forth, but not aimed at
him. Two of those who'd emerged from medical, ignored Trent and
started firing on those who pursued him. One of Trent's pursuers
fell, a smoldering hole in his chest, while the group that emerged
from the command center started fumbling back to cover. Trent
quickly recovered himself, sprinting towards the medical bay as
mayhem ensued around him. It took only a moment to reach the group
who had come to his aid. He turned, prepared to help those who were
holding back the assault.

“Inside, now!” a woman shouted as she grabbed
Trent and dragged him through the door. The two other men fired a
final salvo, then followed, slamming the door shut and barring it
behind them.

Trent collapsed heavily to the floor,
breathing deeply while looking up at his saviors. The woman who'd
dragged him inside, leveled her weapon on his chest.

“Drop your laser arc!” she shouted, voice
trembling. Trent, realizing he was still holding his weapon,
dropped it obediently, thinking it the laser arc in which she
referred.

“Name and rank! Speak it quick if you want to
live,” Trent had instinctively raised his hands as she continued
shouting.

“My name is Trent and I don't have a rank. I
just woke up and have absolutely no idea what is going on,” her jaw
fell open, eyes going wide with shock before filling with an icy
fury. The look was familiar, and Trent thought his life would soon
be over, when a young man, a sly smile on his lips, emerged from
the shadows, moving before the woman, blocking her raised
weapon.

“Stand down, Private Jan'Lus,” he instructed
calmly. Trent couldn't clearly see her face, but heard a primordial
grunt escape as she lowered the weapon.

“This is the guy, Taku! The one that Sir
Simwa wants...the cause of this entire mess! Let's kill him and
hand him over!” Trent froze again as he heard the words “kill” and
“Sir Simwa” erupt from this Private Jan'Lus’s lips. He glanced down
to his right, seeing that his laser arc was still well within
reach. He started inching closer.

“That is exactly why we can't hand him over,
Private. Sir Simwa is not to be trusted and Knight Captain Quinn
left a standing order, which if you recall stated to not hand over
the new recruit named Trent to the NHA Liaison’s retainers, no
matter what. Who do you report too? Knight Captain Quinn or Sir
Simwa?” The young man named Taku questioned, voice of authority.
Trent could see Jan'Lus trembling, anger spilling through her every
pour. She looked at Trent.

“This is all your fault!” she shouted, again
raising her weapon. Trent started to move, but Taku was faster.
With an unexpected quickness, he disarmed her in one motion, while
knocking her unconscious to the floor. The young man shook out his
hand, trying to remove the sting from the punch, as he started down
upon the unconscious Jan’Lus.

“And it's Lieutenant Taku you twit,” he spat
as he looked to the two men standing in shock.

“Take her to the rear and tell De'Witt to
keep her out and restrained. I know we need every able body, but I
don't think we can trust her.” The two men quickly overcame their
shock and saluted, dragging the unconscious Private Jan'Lus out of
sight. Taku then turned to Trent, helping him to his feet, allowing
him to get a good look at the young man.

He was definitely of Asian descent, with
short black hair and distinctly cut features, but he looked like a
teenager, no older then sixteen. He stood slightly shorter then
Trent and had a skinny, muscular build that based on how easily he
disarmed the larger woman, was sure contained a hidden
strength.

“So...you are the mysterious fellow Trent who
started this entire fiasco, are you?” Trent couldn't mask his
surprise by the unexpected words and icy tone.

“I'm sorry...I don't have the faintest idea
how I could have started anything. I just woke up a couple hours
ago and before that, the last thing I remember is being shot by Sir
Simwa,” Trent explained, his frustration taking the place of the
surprise.

“You were shot by Sir Simwa?” Taku asked,
obviously puzzled, “That story is slightly different than the one
we have been hearing,” Taku squatted, picking up Jan’Lus’s laser
arc. “From what Sir Simwa and his noble comrades have been
clamoring, is that you dishonored him and, along with the commander
and vice-commander, tried to murder him in cold blood,” Taku stood,
a small smirk creeping across his lips, apparently amused at how
Trent's expression turned to utter confusion. He was about to
respond when Taku held up a hand.

“Before you elaborate, let's go to the back,
I'd like everyone to hear your story...and I'll see about getting a
Program to verify if you're actually telling the truth,” Taku
finished, looking him up and down, smiled again, then walked
casually past him. Trent followed cautiously behind.

The medical bay was similar to the one he'd
left earlier, but there were less of the ellipsoid “coffins” and
much more equipment he didn’t recognize mixed amongst silver
crates. When they reached the rear doorway, the two men who'd
carried Jan'Lus away exited, saluting swiftly, before rushing back
towards the front entrance.

The square room in the back of the medical
bay was enormous, with groups of different sizes scattered all
around, sitting atop silver crates, eyeing him warily. Most wore
blue and white jumpsuits similar to Trent’s, while others wore what
looked like military uniforms of an identical coloring. Additional
ellipsoid “coffins” lined the back wall of the chamber, with piles
of unorganized supplies set throughout. Trent followed Taku to the
center of the room.

“Program,” Taku looked towards the ceiling,
“I would like authorization to conduct an interview with truth
finding protocols enabled,” said Taku politely. The small groups,
their curiosity overpowering their caution, started shuffling
closer.

“Permission granted. All statements are now
being logged,” the monotone voice Trent had almost forgotten, but
not quite, replied.