MBryO: The Escape (2 page)

“She hit the cockpit dashboard really hard,” a young boy interjected. “Thank goodness she was wearing her shoulder harness or she would have been thrown out the front portal.”

“Joshua?” the female queried silently. “Do you feel something…strange?”

“It’s like we’re being watched…and yet it’s not!” tension radiated from a fourth voice. “Terran patrol?”

“No! Not Terran, exactly! Humanoid, definitely, but this is different. Friendly I think!” the one called Joshua returned calmly.

Standing outside the wreckage, the one known as Joshua sent a silent call for help into the treetops above where the unseen ‘other’ hovered. “If you can understand us, we need help. Our friend has been hurt. She needs medical attention.”

High above the canopy Pax halted the carriage at the last junction box before reaching the lake. The ship had crashed on the other side of the water near the tree line. He sensed the urgency in the voices echoing through his head.

The zip line wound its way around the lake along the edge of the canopy. He was only seconds away from the crash site. Determinedly Pax stepped into the next fan-shaped metal basket.

Searching for the right words to reply to the urgent plea for help, he managed a mentally garbled, “Help you…I will!”

He felt more than heard the chords of distrust that permeated the foursome at his stilted message. He knew they were waiting for their first glimpse of him before they decided if he was a friend or an enemy.

Just like he was!

He braced himself for the worst, just in case.

Rounding the lake he slowed the zip line to a stop and simply examined the shore line.

Luckily the ship was more or less in one piece. The bullet-like nose of the shuttlecraft was crumpled against a large tree trunk. The glassed porthole was shattered and what was left of one of the engines was lying about ten feet beyond the wreckage. A debris field marked the area as pieces of the exterior of the ship were strewn haphazardly across the dense underbrush. Several small fires blazed along the ground and there was smoke pouring from the main part of the crashed spaceship.

He peered through the smoke to the group of survivors. Four humanoid beings dressed in flowing white robes stood protectively over the injured female lying on the ground. Their bold stances told him they were ready to battle an attack from any direction.

Rolling the cage slowly forward, Pax came to a wary halt a few feet from the crashed ship. From his position in the leafy alcove above them, he was able to observe the newcomers.

His immediate thought was that the strange looking humanoids were very young! But he pushed that aside for he did not know what determined ‘young’ where they came from.

In Terran years, he was approaching three decades. But Terra counted eighteen months before Nyla 6 completed a revolution around the star known as Sol, which made him twenty years old his next birthday.

Apparently uninjured, the faces of the crash survivors appeared smooth and unlined. Their bodies were trim and fit. The lone female was a study in shades of white from her long hair and ivory skin to her soft gray eyes.

The three young males standing beside her were blonde haired, gray-eyed mirror images of one another. But paradoxically, they were of varying ages, heights and sizes.

Not one of them wore a blaster, but the tingling along his spine told him they were probably more dangerous than ten wild eughis put together. He suspected the four young humanoids relied on a more complex type of weaponry.

He knew in his gut there was no softness in the odd looking group. They might have lost their ship, but they hadn’t lost their ability to defend themselves.

A low moan came from the crumpled form behind them on the ground. Her blaze of fiery curls contrasted sharply with the delicately colorless foursome circled protectively around her.

Pax felt a gentle probe through his mind.

“He is different from us,” announced William matter-of -factly.

“Maybe on the outside,” Joshua returned, “but I think he understands us better than any humanoid we’ve ever met.”

“He is not from MBryO…is he?” asked the smallest male uncertainly.

“Do not worry Ian,” the female reassured him empathically. “We left MBryO back on Terran. And Melara promised we will never have to go back there!”

“Our friend needs medical attention,” repeated the pragmatic William.

Pax felt more than saw the one called Ian’s mental guard relax. As if in one mind the older three made no further attempt to talk to him or each other. They simply waited to see what he would decide to do next.

The odd looking group appeared harmless. But looks could be deceiving and his inner warning system was on full alert.

He knew he should turn around and swing back across the valley, but this was the first group of humanoids he had encountered since the death of his parents, more than a decade ago.

The years stretched empty and lonely ahead of him. He knew he could not turn his back on these strange looking humanoids. This might be his one and only chance to make contact with an outside life form. He was filled with excitement.

The nearby growl of a eughi raised the hairs on the back of his neck. Attracted by the sounds of the crash, Pax decided the creature was still a klick or so away. And it was running on all fours by the sound of it. The big creature would be upon them in minutes. A rustling in the brush nearby convinced him that it was time to get a move on.

He kicked the zip basket out into the clearing.

Four heads lifted upwards as he appeared from the depths of the canopy. Pax was as dark as the newcomers were fair. He must have looked as strange to them as they did to him.

He struggled to find the correct old English words to warn them.

“No time! Danger!”

With a flick of the gears that controlled the pulleys he lowered the zip line and fan-shaped basket to the ground. When the wary foursome made no move to approach the basket he signaled them with an urgent wave of his hand.

“Come! Now! We must go!” he urged out loud, stumbling over the feel and sound of the unfamiliar words.

To his amazement, the body on the ground levitated into the air. The body followed them as the humanoids walked slowly toward the metal basket, propelled by the energy Pax could feel coming from the minds of the colorless humanoid visitors.

Standing shoulder to shoulder the foursome manipulated the prone figure of the female into the basket. Pax sensed the ebb and flow of psy-talent as they exhausted the last of their telekinetic energy. After their crash and the energy it took to land the ship, all four were extremely tired now.

“We will not all fit inside. You will have to come back for us,” Joshua pointed out with a resigned look at the zip cage.

“No!” Pax gently clasped Sasha’s hand and led her into the basket. His sense of urgency communicated itself to her and frightened, she sat down cross-legged beside the female in the bottom of the wire cage. Punching a control on the zip bar he summoned another basket. It slid silently downwards from a neighboring tree.

“In it you must be! This minute!” he ordered firmly as the growling eughi grew closer.

The three barely had time to climb aboard the basket before Pax swung upward into the canopy. With a glance at the small control box attached to the zip line handle, William pushed a switch, levering the other basket upwards.

The cages were barely into the shadow of the canopy when the huge black bear-like monster reached the still burning crash site. Standing erect the angry creature gave an eerie roar, its forearms reaching for the swaying carriers above.

Ian cringed as one razor sharp claw scraped the metal bottom of the basket, rocking it sideways. The frustrated creature bellowed louder as the zip line moved out of range. Two more eughi’s emerged from the tree line just as Pax and the other humanoids disappeared into the canopy.

“Zander’s-tar-pits that was close! Remind me never to meet one of those things alone!” William remarked cryptically.

Adrenaline rushing through his veins, Pax grinned in silent solidarity. He couldn’t agree more!

Sasha’s perfectly arched brow creased as she examined their dark skinned rescuer. Zander’s-tar-pits! Though Sasha suspected his DNA was the result of the cloning process, she knew that this was not one of MBryO’s evil experiments.

She had never seen an empathetic humanoid such as him. Well above six feet in height, the male was lean of frame, but broad and strong in his chest and shoulders; probably from all the time he spent moving the strange looking carriages through the canopy of the rainforest. From the top of his long ebony hair to the tip of his booted feet he simply oozed strength and power. His caramel colored skin and dark eyes were the total antithesis of her and her brother’s fair coloring.

She sensed that his psy-ability was innate, very strong, and carefully leashed. His stature and coloring was reminiscent of the Xenaclons, a genetically enhanced army of warriors, now thought to be extinct. The Xenaclon Wars were responsible for the development of the laws of cloning. Those laws were accepted across the universe.

She hoped for Pax’s sake that her father never gained possession of this dark warrior.

The result would be cataclysmic.

Other than the barest of introductions, the humanoids wasted no energy talking. Pax could sense their deep concern for their injured friend. The crumpled form in the bottom of the basket was called Melara Sivanza, their pilot.

Grimly, they navigated the starlit valley. The basket was quite a bit heavier on the return journey and Pax’s arms chorded with his efforts to manipulate the complicated zip lines through the canopy. Mid-way through the trip he sensed the power of psy-talent returning to his visitors. Tendrils of energy joined with his, helping him move the cages along. With their help the rest of the trip became much easier.

“Close to it!” he told them silently as they approached the landing perch attached to the mountain.

The landing zone had been designed to accommodate five of the zip carriers at one time. The zip line docked the metal basket automatically. Hopping out, Pax slid the cage over to make room for the second one.

Slinging his blaster over his shoulder, Pax helped Sasha out of the basket. Once she was safely on her feet, he lifted the unconscious female out of the bottom of it. He settled her slight weight against his broad chest.

His breath caught as he looked down into her sleeping face. Not so much because she was beautiful…and beautiful she no doubt was by any standard…but because this was the first human contact he’d had since the death of his parents.

She
felt…
warm and supple.

His nostrils flared as he caught the soft scent of her skin. She was dappled across the bridge of her nose with the small spots his mother had called ‘freckles’. He wondered what color her eyes were. There were no traces of the soft floral perfumes he associated with his mother. Instead the humanoid female smelled clean and, for the moment, alive.

Turning, he led the silent group up the rocky path by moonlight. Pax stopped at a vine shrouded entrance about mid-way up the mountain. Shifting the small burden in his arms, he pushed the button that controlled the portal. The automatic doors opened with a whoosh from the air locks revealing an elevator.

Warily his visitors boarded the conveyance.

Seconds later the double doors on the opposite side slid quietly open. They stepped out onto a landing that overlooked a huge lobby, dimly lit by the recessed lighting at the base of the walls.

Joshua sensed they were inside a huge underground bunker. Using his psy-talent to send out feelers, he realized the structure loomed three stories above them and possibly two more below. It was also empty of any other humanoid presence. Reassured that they were not walking into a trap, he relaxed his guard just a bit. The others felt his relief and adjusted their own defenses ever so slightly.

The star base had been designed to accommodate more than one hundred fifty visitors at the same time. The bunker, itself, comprised fifty residential units, nine scientific laboratories and three landing bays. It had been destined to become a small city had it been completed. Abandoned soon after the initial Nyla 6 project had begun, the facility had never housed even one tenth of that number.

Except for Pax, it had been empty for more than a decade.

Pax sensed the tentacles of curiosity coming from the four psy-talents. Gently they probed his mind for the knowledge he housed there. It was a gentle assault, not demanding or aggressive, and he allowed them to retrieve the data they desired. He knew that, the only way these four unique humanoids would breach his memory base, was if he willingly allowed it.

The gentle nudge of psy-energy brought a smile to his lips. His parents had given him a canine-bot as a pet once. The probe reminded him of the way the pup had nudged his hand when it wanted to be petted.

“We are surprised. We did not think psy-talent existed outside MBryO.”

“What is this…psy-talent?” Pax asked the young girl known as Sasha.

“There are no obstacles between our thoughts. We have tried to block you from them, but we cannot,” Sasha returned. “That only happens between psy-talents.”

“Melara is not a psy-talent. She can intercept our thoughts only when we include her in our conversation,” Joshua interjected.

“We have the ability to cloak our thoughts from outsiders, so only psy-talent can receive them. And yet you receive them anyway. How do you explain that, if you do not possess psy-talent?” Ian queried.

Pax considered the question for a moment before he haltingly replied. “We must share the same frequency. It’s like the library vids of ancient radios I have watched. They transmitted and received through radio waves. We must share the same frequency.”

“Frequency, psy-talent…call it what you will,” Ian returned. “MBryO has never been able to establish the existence of any other empathetic humanoids. You would be a very valuable addition to MBryO’s collection.”

“Who or what is this MBryO?” Pax asked curiously.

“MBryO is our father!” Joshua informed him telepathically.

“We were created through a scientific process called cellular manipulation; or genetic cloning. MBryO experienced many failures before he located the correct genetic code to design the four of us,” William told him sadly. “We are his greatest accomplishment. He will not willingly let us go! He will search until he finds us.”

“A true empath without genetic enhancement would be very valuable to our father,” Sasha told him. “He would be a perfect candidate for the extraction procedure.”

“MBryO would stop at nothing to acquire your DNA!” Joshua warned him matter-of-factly.

Pax crossed the tiled floors to a door on the other side of a huge immaculately appointed waiting room. There were a multitude of chairs and vid screens grouped around the glass cased registration desk. This had obviously been intended as the booking and reception area for the proposed starbase. Behind the desk was a door marked examination room.

The bunker reminded William of the massive MBryO laboratory. The chemical smells emitted from the cleaning units on the walls brought back many terrible memories. Memories of cries for help suddenly overwhelmed him, filling his ears, as did visions of terrible genetic experiments gone wrong. His overpowering sadness swamped the others empathically.

“We must not think of MBryO now,” Sasha cautioned him silently. “Concentrate on helping Melara instead!”

The door panel slid open at their approach and Pax strode across to a waiting medi-bed encased by a computerized autodoc machine. No sooner had he placed Melara on the pristine counterpane than the four went to work hooking up the necessary wires. They seemed to know their way around the mechanized version of an old fashioned medical doctor.

“What do we have here?” quizzed a male physician’s avatar when the medi-bed came online.

“Humanoid female,” the computerized voice of a female nurse initiated the customary diagnostic exam.

“Of average height and weight.”

“Vital signs steady.”

“Pulse strong.”

“Falling into the somewhat healthy category.”

“Small cuts and contusions occupying 91% of her body…no stitches required to stop any loss of bodily fluids.”

“No broken bones or internal injuries.”

“Ah…wait…the scalp appears to have suffered an impact! Brain scan in progress…”

The onlookers waited anxiously while the computer completed its diagnostic testing.

Seconds later the avatar concluded: “Scan complete…results indicate subject is unconscious… but otherwise no serious damage.”

“Administering tincture of hartshorn,” the avatar told them as a panel above the bed opened and a robotic arm descended from it holding a clear vial of powdery medicine.

“Wait!” Sasha shouted silently. “What is that?”

“Relax Sasha,” William soothed her. “The old medicos called it ‘smelling salts’. The results should be harmless and instantaneous.”

The robotic arm barely had time to wave the vial under Melara’s nostrils and slide quickly back into the panel above the bed before she sucked in a shocked gasp for air and sat upright.

Pax’s heavily muscled arm shot out to steady her shaking body and then gently laid her back against the pillows. He no longer had to wonder about the color of her eyes. The electric blue orbs fringed by thick dark lashes were wide open and instantly alert.

“Careful…you must be! Body is weak!” Pax urged her out loud. The simple words sounded garbled to his ears, the result of a lack of practice. He sensed none of the probing tendrils of psy-talent coming from the red haired female.

“You must listen to him,” Ian cautioned from her bed side.

Relief flooded her as Melara looked at the four concerned faces of her young charges. A searching glance told her that other than a minor few cuts and bruises none of them had sustained any injuries during the crash.

“Thank the star gods you are alright!” she breathed out loud with relief.

“Do not worry Melara,” Joshua calmed her gently. “You have gotten us safely away from MBryO’s security patrols.”

“For now,” William agreed. “But the drones will not give up until they find us.”

Melara carefully tried sitting up and dangling her feet off the side of the bed. She could feel the tug of her strained muscles.

“Who are you and where are we?” she demanded, looking at their odd looking rescuer. She remembered seeing others with his brown coloring in the Terran barrios of old California back home.

Barriosi were kept under guard, their movement severely restricted by Terran drones. It was a throwback to the Xenaclon Wars when the Barriosi sided with the Xenaclon in their attempts to annihilate all other humanoid life.

Melara had been assigned to the Barriosi guard during her early days at the Terran Guard Academy. She had stood guard outside one of the many fences that had been erected to contain the dark peoples inside. The barrio was a city within a city; self-supporting and independent of Terran interference. No one was allowed in and no one came out of the gates to the barrio.

“I am Pax Vitar,” Pax told her awkwardly. “And, this…my home…Nyla 6.”

“Where in Zander’s-tar-pit is Nyla 6?” she asked swinging her legs to the heaving floor.

“Lyiada Galaxy,” he returned, placing an arm around her slim waist and helping her to the door.

The panels slid open once more and Pax led them across the empty reception area into the waiting elevator. They ascended to the next floor of the bunker. This time the elevator opened onto the foyer of the bunker’s residential complex. Three hallways branched off in different directions. A multitude of doors led to empty living quarters. Pax led them past the unmanned security cubicle to the first door on the right.

The curious group found themselves in a spacious apartment with recessed lighting. It was beautifully carpeted and furnished in what the old Terrans used to call earth tones.

“Stanley?” Pax yelled as soon as they entered the apartment.

Pax was assisting Melara into a padded recliner when the golden skinned life-sized robotic butler glided into the room on the wheels attached to his vacuum base.

“Zander’s-tar-pit!” Ian exclaimed telepathically.

“You mustn’t curse, Ian,” Melara reproved the youngest empath.

“Why not? You do!” he returned with the logic of youth.

Melara grimaced ironically. His excitement reverberated through the minds of humanoid present.

“You don’t have to shout!” William reproved him.

“Isn’t he a beaut?”

“You called sir?” Stanley’s voice had been programmed by his creator to sound as elderly as his tuxedo clad body looked. His black bow tie was crisp and his pleated white silk shirt was immaculate. A monogrammed salmon colored tea towel was draped over one bent arm.

“Visitors, Stanley. Bring burgers and root beer.”

The robot’s curious expression depicted a modest amount of surprise at the verbal request.

Usually Pax waited on himself or typed his commands on the small mobile com unit attached to his wrist. The miniature computer unit had many capabilities not the least of which was keeping time. Pax could virtually control the entire bunker from it.

“Burgers and root beer it is, sir.”

“Can I go watch him?” Ian begged silently.

Pax barely nodded his assent before the boy shot through the swinging louvered doors after the retreating robot.

“Be careful,” Melara called after him.

“What is this place?” Sasha pushed back a strand of milky blonde hair from her forehead. Out of consideration for Melara, she spoke out loud. Melara’s throbbing headache could be felt by all of them. The foursome agreed not to put any more psy-stress on her until she was better.

With a wave of his hand Pax indicated the couch and chairs grouped around several low tables. He waited until they were seated comfortably before he attempted to use his rough vocal chords.

“Nyla 6 is a forgotten Terran experiment.”

“Just one of many, I assure you!” Melara drawled firmly. Terra’s government was continually shifting from one powerful leader to another these days. They were notorious for their inability to pass new laws and enforce them too.

“My forefathers were part of a team that was sent here to establish a star base. They erected the bunker, built the shuttle bays and furnished the laboratories. They were supposed to be the first wave of colonists. When the shuttle returned to Earth for the next group of immigrants and supplies, it never returned. My ancestors assumed the Terran government had written them off. They never came back for us.”