Chosen (23 page)

The Queen had refused, saying she had never heard of a sickness affecting one certain group. Had anyone else taken ill? When the petitioners mumbled that no one else seemed affected, the Queen smiled her best smile and assured the frightened townsfolk that all was well.

But all was
not
well. She had been tempted to agree to the quarantine, if only to have the afflicted out of sight. Many ran through the streets, frightening the wits out of anyone within earshot of their psychotic ramblings.

If they continued with the ranting, she would have to begin locking them up, if only to protect them from the people of the city. People who were frightened could turn on that which they perceived was the source of the fear. The moons' rings were untouchable; the seers and prophets were not.

She signaled to her servants to see to the dead prisoners. She bid the dark mage good day and made her way to her sleeping chambers, flanked as always by her elite guards. The way was long and winding, taking her through unused portions of the palace, built by her ancestors long ago. The décor reflected the periods in which the wings were built. The wealth contained therein was priceless. Walking through the palace was like taking a journey back in time. She often wandered the rooms, marveling at the furniture, paintings, tapestries, vases and other pottery, statues, weaponry and armor. There were pieces that no one living on the two continents had ever seen.

The Queen did not take pleasure in the finery today. She wanted the old man. He used the key, she was certain. But she had no inkling of how the old man had been able to steal it from her quarters, despite the magical alarms.

The dark mages in her employ had been unable to detect any magical residue.
The Mystic is more than he seems. And he knows about the moons' mysterious rings.
She thought as she neared her chambers.
I
will
have answers. The old man is going to give them to me!

K
ROMIN

Clone 70786 piloted the travel pod through the turbulent sky on its way to a neighboring city. The planet was restless; surface eruptions had been violent and numerous, restricting travel to the uppermost reaches of the atmosphere. Several pods had flown too low and been lost to huge gouts of boiling muck. Though the winds of Kromin were normally swift, lately they had been wild and unpredictable, blowing so fierce that travel of any kind was nearly impossible.

Atmospheric specialists and geologists had been at a loss to explain the sudden onslaught of atmospheric disarray. They worked around the clock to monitor the eruptions, violent storms, and lightning. All travel required special permission, which was only given when conditions permitted.

Building engineers had also worked diligently to reinforce the buildings and travel pods. The lightning produced by the storms damaged the metal, requiring the quick thinking and skills of the top engineers to strengthen it, Spacecraft engineers had only been marginally successful in strengthening the viewscreens in the travel pods to protect them from flying debris. The smallest pods were unable to be used in the most violent of storms. They were hurled about and often the clone was unable to control the craft, and the pods spun out of control and ended up being swallowed by the semi-solid surface of the planet.

The clone managers had been working hard as of late, awakening new clones from the birthing chambers to take the place of those who had perished. The new clones took over the jobs vacated when the old ones died. They were taught what they needed to know by the others in the field.

As clone 70786 approached the floating city, it absently noted the pockmarks that had appeared in the once smooth, polished surface of the buildings. The blemishes made them look old. The clone entered the hangar door. It was the last to arrive; it could see the travel pods of its research mates already in the bay. It stood and turned, walking toward the rear of the pod. The clone reached down with its long, thin arms and picked up a grey metal case by two handles on either side. It walked slowly down the ramp of the pod and into the bay, making for the arching entryway leading to the rest of the building.

The audience chamber was at the end of the long, grey hall, devoid of any doorways. The clone's reflection followed alongside on both walls, looking twisted and distorted.

Clone 70786 was greeted with silence as it entered the quiet, grey room. It placed the smoke-colored box in the center of a steel table and turned to face the audience. Research clones from various cities had gathered to witness the telepathic abilities of the clones. No other clone had ever attempted to communicate with an alien species, much less been able to accomplish such a feat.

--Please demonstrate your abilities.

Clone 70786 nodded to its research leader. It touched a small metal button on the front of the case and opened the lid. It reached in and pulled out a box made of clear polymer. The clone stood to one side, allowing the others in the room a glimpse of what resided in the clear case.

The creature was unlike anything they had ever seen. It was green and round, covered in luminescent hair shimmering in rainbow colors as it shifted in its prison. The box did not emit sound, so the Kromins were unable to hear its buzzing and humming. The creature had two long, yellow-green stalks on the top of its body, on which sat two large black eyes. The stalks could move
in all directions, enabling the animal to see in front and behind simultaneously. It opened its mouth located between the two eye stalks.

--The alien would like to know why he is here.

Mirka glanced to her left and right, looking for the barest glimpse of emotion from the Kromins sitting in the auditorium. Their faces and body language remained as they always had; devoid of any feeling.

What I wouldn't give for the twitch or widening of an eye, a slight wrinkle in those perfectly smooth foreheads.
She knew they had the musculature and nerves for doing such things. When she had first arrived on this planet, she smiled, frowned, and grimaced at her reflection in the shiny metal surfaces of her domicile. It was the only emotional interplay she ever received.

The questions began slowly at first, and then came more quickly as the clones approached the front of the chamber, where the creature sat in its clear prison. The little animal, called an ugilah, looked out of place; a splash of lively and dazzling color in a world of dismal grey.

--May we try to communicate with the creature?

For the next several hours the research clones from various cities attempted communication with the ugilah. None were able to make any contact. To the clones, this was simply a curiosity. To Mirka, it was confirmation of the Chosen's destiny; they alone had the ability to understand an alien's thoughts.

--Can anyone hear me?

Mirka almost growled to see the clones react to the far-off contact with nothing more than their usual curiosity.

--They can hear you clone 53279. Please tell us your location.

--Ten thousand parsecs from Kromin, near the Kuinas cluster.

She wished for the thousandth time these cold, hard creatures would do
something.
They reacted to the news they were in contact with a clone parsecs away the same as they would react if the clone was sitting in the same room. They were only curious and wanted to learn more about how the clone was able to communicate. But they did not get excited or show any joy at all in what clone 53279 had been able to accomplish.
My Chosen deserve
some
sort of reaction. They
have done what no one of you has ever done before. They deserve thunderous applause.
Her wishes were all in vain. These stoic aliens would never go so far. The clones in the audience chamber were able to hear the message from clone 53279 but could not send one back to it. That was well beyond any of their capabilities.

Mirka sucked in her breath as she felt a sharp, loud contact in her head that was almost too painful to bear. The others in the room were reacting as she, looking around to see what was causing the disturbance. Mirka thought at first that it must be coming from the ugilah, but the creature seemed to be resting comfortably in its clear case. She reached out to her Chosen so far away, fearing the worst.

--Clone 53279, are you well?

--Yes. I too felt the strange sensation. It must be a very strong signal for me to be able to receive it. What has happened?

--Unknown. Return to Kromin immediately.

--I will contact you when I am in orbit.

Mirka looked around at the clones surrounding her, looking for the one who had been responsible for the emotional outburst.

One of them answered:

--I believe it is coming from the hangar bay.

The clones filed out of the audience chamber and made their way down the long hallway. If she didn't know any better, she would say the one making the painful contact was terrified.
But that is ridiculous. They cannot feel fear…or can they?
She wondered if the atmospheric conditions had worsened. She shook her head.
Kromins have seen massive storms before. That should not be enough to provoke such fear.
She frowned.
Nor to cause it to go on so long.
The strange contact continued to buffet her and the other clones as they made their way down the hallway. She, and the others as well, quickened their pace, glancing at their neighbors.

They arrived at the hangar bay in a few short moments. Mirka stood, frozen, as she stared out the shielded opening. Under normal circumstances, the pink and orange clouds of noxious gases could be seen swirling and churning, creating beautiful patterns in the sky.

Now, the mauve sky, free of all clouds, waited outside. The clones all stood, silent and still. The clone responsible for the severely painful contact sat in the middle of the floor, rocking back
and forth, peering out the opening. The Kromins seemed afraid to approach it. They stood in their accustomed silence, staring out the door at the quiet atmosphere.

Mirka made her way to the opening, taking one step, and then another, until she stood so close she could feel the electrical charge against her skin. She looked down and could faintly see the eruptions from the surface jetting up, before falling back down, being re-absorbed into the semi-solid surface. The Kromin sun, a small blood-red ball, hung in the sky like a great red eye.

These beings have probably never seen their own sun.
This was something she had in common with the Kromins. As a creature that inhabited the benthic depths of the ocean, she too had never seen the sun, or set eyes on the surface of Gentra. She had wished on several occasions that a portal existed on the surface, so she might be able to walk on solid ground. According to the Masters, that would not be possible. No sentient life existed on the surface. They could not explain why the portals only existed where there was sentient life. Life on Gentra had evolved to a higher order under the inky blackness of the salt water, and it was here the portal was located.

Mirka had been tempted to send one of her Chosen to Gentra during their training exercises but had fought the temptation. To do so would have been inappropriate.
Perhaps when this is all over, and if I manage to live through the fight with the Mekans, I can return to Kromin and take a pod to Gentra, and lay eyes on the surface of my home world.

--The atmosphere has ceased all movement over the entire planet. I have been in contact with several others from all cities and they report the same phenomena.

Mirka nodded and turned back to the hangar door, so that the clone could not see her face. Its words confirmed her greatest fear and growing excitement.

The sign has come at last!
She had never suspected
this
would be the cause of the fear coming from the clone in the hangar bay. Mirka knew that her Chosen were ready. They had trained and accomplished everything she had hoped they would. The Kromins would be central to the coming battle with the Mekans. The other Chosen would not be able to communicate with one another, at least not in the beginning. Each day brought the Mekans closer to this
galaxy. The Kromins would be the voices for all of the Chosen until they had a chance to learn each other's languages.

Mirka gave a shake of her head.
Now is the time for action.
She sent her thoughts to all of her Chosen, including the one on its way back to Kromin.

--Meet me in storage room 9 back in our home city.

Mirka sent the image of the room to her Chosen.

The telepathic capabilities of this race never ceased to amaze her. Communication via symbols and abstract ideas and feelings was much more efficient than the use of words. Though this race did not show outward emotion and did not understand feelings for the most part, they still used them subconsciously in their telepathic connections. When she had first begun her training on Gentra and had learned of this, she had been baffled. How could a race that claimed not to understand emotions use them when communicating, and not even be aware of what they were doing? It was another piece of the intriguing puzzle that was the Kromins.