The Acolytes of Crane "Updated Edition" (28 page)

I
knew my group was smart enough to decipher my upcoming façade. I stood up and
spoke as dispassionately as I could, ‘We are here, and our desire is to
preserve Sephera. I don’t have anything to say about Theodore. He was always
private with his thoughts, and I knew him better than most. So I apologize if
he made things difficult for us. We, too, are devastated by his actions.  Would
anyone else like to say anything?’

My
friends stayed silent. As expected, they knew exactly what I was doing. We were
going to keep our support for Theodore a secret.

We
were dismissed, and as I was leaving, I was interrupted by a transmission from
a male voice on my nanocom, ‘Acknowledged. Order to deploy Humans to Karshiz
granted. King Trazuline’s request confirmed.’

King
Trazuline’s request?
Something was going on, and we hadn’t even been given a choice yet. Somehow, I
had the feeling that the covert transmission was mistakenly broadcast to my
nanocom; perhaps others as well. We were now too dangerous, even for Zane, to
remain aboard his ship.  Our team was in purgatory. We chose to avoid
confrontation. Zane was the chess master. Trazuline was a designated king who
had chosen to make a move on Zane’s chessboard, for whatever reason. As for the
rest of us, well—we were pawns.

We
all retired to our rooms. Mariah was having doubts and cried against my
shoulder before I reluctantly cut her loose to rest. We were failing, and it
was because the diligence, which had defined us and bound us together, had
disappeared when Theodore left.

We
were meant to be his understudies, but it was more than that. He had made us
believers. Theodore gave us desire, and he was everything that we needed.
Mariah’s crying affirmed this thought.

Before
Zane had appeared in a puff of smoke and beseeched me to seek out Theodore,
back on Earth, I was just a boy whose dad who had only one life goal—to mold a
young gifted kid into a dentist. I realized there was no going back. By
bringing me to a strange new destiny, far beyond the stars, Theodore had
liberated me from the shackles of a one-track destiny.

Liam
was torn by his father’s adultery. Mariah was dealing with her own issues at
home, and until now, had not left anything to chance. Dan did just the
opposite; he gave into chance, and scorned the boredom of his life with risk.
That was then. Now, as a nascent team, we were already given purpose. We just
had to capitalize on it.

No
one loses a diamond in the rough and walks away. 

We
admired Zane for his resolve to protect Sephera, but Theodore was in our
hearts. He was still the Earth’s Messiah, despite Zane’s verdict that he be
stripped of this title. Wherever Ted was, whatever he was doing now, I knew it
was in our best interests.

In
that video, they showed us of Ted destroying the Ophanims and romping through the
Garden of Odion. Zane had intended for that portrayal to have us recoil from
the memory of Ted. In fact, it was the opposite. The only thing that I saw in
that likeness was how powerful one boy could be. He was a kid who defied the
savage world of abuse at the hands of his father. Ted was formed in the belly
of cowardice; in his primary school years he was thrashed by the weathered
hands of hatred. He once had told me that his father and mother meant nothing
to him, because he meant nothing to them.

We
valued Theodore. Even though our mystical fantasies of outer space were
brutally demolished, we had replaced these idle thoughts of teenagers with deep
connectivity and esprit.

Although
I was not destined to be a spiritual leader, my love of logic and my incredible
powers of observation could save us. I was the missing Linc. From that day on,
I studied every move the resistance made. I looked for holes, gaps, flaws, and
cracks. I was destined to find all the weaknesses of our adversaries, not for
maliciousness, but to inaugurate our crew’s rise as the acolytes of Theodore
Crane.

“In
the morning Dan, Mariah, and I, would leave the Uriel on a one-way trip to the
planet Karshiz. There, the Bromels in charge of us would leave our entire crew
stranded with King Trazuline. What he wanted from us I was yet to discover.”

I
am no longer Theodore Crane. I am prisoner eight-six-seven-five, reduced to a
number within a database, and a nobody in a prison cell.

 My
first war was on the planet of Tritillia. It is hard to believe I can tell of
this war so quickly. I think of my time on this planet, and it seems like it
was an eternity, given that it was such a captivating civilization.

Make
no mistake. Tritillia, the jewel of the cosmos. There is no other planet in the
multiverse as breath-taking, yet treacherous. If heaven is real, it consists of
a dream-like life on Tritillia, tinged with the anxiety derived from its
menacing creatures.

Let
me explain what Ed had briefed me on during our one hour of orbiting the
emerald planet. This planet is navigated by its three massive rivers; the
Latilliam, the Demonxillia, and the Dartilliac. Those rivers stitch the
Tritillian landscape. Their plentiful tributaries nourish new life and give
strength to bountiful layers of flora and fauna that exist all over the planet.

I
lift my tablet closer to my face. I glance at my reflection on the shiny
surface and perceive that the shadows upon my face are subsiding. I look
healthier. Yes, I feel more energy. Finally, after weeks of foreboding, after
weeks of drifting in and out of bare consciousness, excitement is in the air.

Must
be these injections from that shapely nurse. Yes. That’s it!

If
my hosts are trying to revive me, there must be a plot thickening outside these
walls. I wonder if anyone else from my space adventures is here, captured like
me.

“Alright,
here we go. So let’s see. The Valeon sun’s red aura against the moons—varying
in shade and tone—lavished the ground with a monochromatic display of light.”

The
same dwarf star that birthed the neighboring planet Karshiz, home of King
Trazuline, generously bestowed sunlight upon the plant Kingdom of Tritillia: a
world ruled by plants and populated by millions of insects.

Both
Tritillian phyla of life were deadly, yet alluring in their own ways. Beautiful
roses seeped venomous sap from their barbed thorns. Razor-sharp leaves from the
KeKua tree, if detached by turbulent winds, could amputate a limb.

Sentient
plant beings, known as Elons, were native to the massive plant world that inspired
fear into any wayward visitors that had the misfortune to crash-land upon the
beguiling planet. The Elons were sly, graceful, volatile, and dangerous, all at
the same time. They were not to be trusted. The Elons were just incapable of
recognizing outsiders as friendly.

The
Elons believed that creation of their world was divinely inspired; chaotic,
genuine, and organic. They were right. They too denounced Zane for the
methodological assembly-line mass production of his followers. To them, Zane
was building a powerful empire out of nothing—just the inorganic materials of
lost souls. He was suspected of luring unsuspecting beings to Sephera, where
they would die. Even so, he would not let them rest in peace.

Yes,
Zane’s creations were all clones—a label that detractors also derisively
affixed upon the Dietons.

Looking
back, I did admire these Elons. I thought they had a healthy and passionate
yearning for freedom. To keep a symbiotic relationship with your planet is
paramount in the scheme of love.

The
emergent level of the forest stretched four thousand feet into the air, just
before it finally touched the grace of the sky. As for the jungle beneath, it
was so rampageous that not even the Elons could find complete solace there.

The
Elons’ only native enemies were the insects. The insects had no remorse over
nibbling away at the fiber of the Elons, should they remain too still. The
other plants were not sentient, mobile creatures like the Elons and hence were
more at the mercy of these ravenous critters. The insects of Tritillia were
massive, domineering, nasty brutes. Most rivaled the size of the birds we knew
on Earth. A Pegolatian moth was the size of our great eagle. In the unfortunate
scenario that someone was foolish enough to take a shot at this gargantuan moth
with a phaser gun, it usually would shed its scales, a toxic event that could
destroy an entire village of Elons.  Thankfully, such moths were difficult to
find within the forest’s dense canopy.

Size,
however, wasn’t a measure of viciousness. A Drigorian Mosquito was smaller than
a dust particle. It could release hemotoxic venom that destroyed red blood
cells—ultimately killing the flesh of any blood driven beast. The toxins had no
effect on Elons, since only chlorophyll ran through their veins. The
dermonecrotic lesions that the insect could inflict were similar to the brown
recluse spider that is native to America.

The
Elons were made up entirely of plant cells. They didn’t have brains like us.
They functioned upon instinct, preserved by memory. Their reflexive experience
was so advanced that they knew how to act and react upon their environment
precisely with each previously learned situation.

Elons
were bound to their environment. They communicated through the incredible
concept of Kora, meaning love by transference. It was like telepathy, but far
more simple and devastatingly effective. Instinct, rather than complex thought,
was transmitted from plant to plant through a domino effect.

The
King of Tritillia could set the whole forest in motion with one tap of a leaf
or a tug at a blade of grass. That same power made Tritillia uninhabitable by
any outside species, because the forest could collapse on an enemy like a
fifty-pound drum of sand on a beetle.

Our
ship was rapidly descending toward the planet. Our hull, set ablaze by
atmospheric friction, approached dangerous levels of stress, nearing total
collapse. Gritting my teeth, I pressed on, destined to make an impact with the
ground below.

We
were about thirty thousand feet from the surface of the greenest planet I had
ever seen. Our descent was shaken by the ferocious gusts of wind in the
stratosphere. Luckily for me, Ed was an accomplished aviator and a maverick of
the air.

That
wasn’t one of the best flights possible. Fear gripped my throat. I did not want
to head out so far away from Zane, only to die on my own watch.

‘Ed,
what the hell is happening?’ I screamed. I banged against the walls. I was
defenseless within our steel coffin. My body slammed into the buttons and
levers situated in the wall, because my harness wasn’t attached correctly.

‘I
told you to buckle and then pull the strap, and did you do so? No, you didn’t.
You are not smart,’ Ed stated with outright honesty, giving no regard to my
feelings. It was typical robot behavior. I finally plopped down on my seat long
enough to sit. I shredded the leather of my chair with my fingernails. I was
that anxious.

The
temperature of our ship’s cabin increased to one hundred and thirty degrees
Fahrenheit.  I could not even bring up my hand to my face to wipe away the
sweat, because I strapped it tightly to the chair. My perspiration mercilessly
stabbed at my eyes, despite my intense squinting.  Through my slits, I gasped
as a panel from the bow on the outside peeled off like the lid of a sardine
can, then disappeared.

‘If
we don’t make it, I just want you to know I think you are a damn good robot,’ I
said as if I was saying my last words.

‘Is
this the beginning of a verbal will, because I am not currently recording audio?
My processor’s focal point is landing this ship,’ Ed said while he was
computing all of his flight variables.

 We
were a ticking bomb, set to explode against the planet beneath us. Ed launched
anti-gravity propulsion thrusters from the stern of the ship, and these slowed
us down considerably. I was having trouble breathing, and as the space between
the looming jungle and our ship narrowed, so did my breath.

Ten…
nine… eight…

Impact
was imminent. I was about to die.

CRASH!
My body reverberated with the impact and my clenched teeth nearly fractured.
When we hit, Ed went off-line, and I was knocked unconscious.

Several
moments passed by. Slowly, groggily, I rose out of my concussion-induced
slumber. Any further velocity and my rolesk could have been embedded into my
scalp for good. Ed was still off-line, and I heard thrashing and slithering
noises outside. Something was coming after us!

I
could not see beyond the windows, so thick and dense was the vegetation
surrounding us. I felt positively claustrophobic. Was it my imagination, or was
the jungle closing in on us?

‘Wake
up Ed, come on! You can’t just go off-line when the crap is hitting the fan!’ I
screamed, and shook his stainless steel body.

Crack!
Creak! Bam! Deafening noises arose as the hull began to bow inward and beams
began to crack and buckle. The jungle was pulverizing our ship from all
directions!

The
walls closed in, and I quickly grabbed pipes that were knocked from their
bindings to jam from wall to wall, slowing the crushing force from the plants
outside. That done, I desperately salvaged as much as I could for my imminent
escape from the death trap. My heart beating, I unsheathed Wrath with one hand,
on the lookout for predators. Next, I rattled Ed’s body wildly. He was barely
responsive.

‘Ed,
I need you! You’re an asshole!’ I said. After blaming Ed for everything, I
noticed that Ed had what appeared to be an Allen key, strung out on a cord from
the cabinet on his back. I zipped over to the key, seized it, and made
countless attempts to plug it into every robotic orifice on the damn thing, as
the ship’s cabin continued to be compressed inwards. Finally, I found the right
slot for the key—in his leg.

‘Ed,
wake up you—you jerk!’ I shouted.

‘The
chance of us surviving this inward pressure is two percent,’ he said in a
monotone, and I quickly unlatched him from his seat to aid me in stopping the
crushing forces.

The
walls began to vice me, and the metal pinched my skin just below my armpit,
causing me to drop my sword in anguish. Ed and I were pinned between the roof
and the floor of our ship. Finally, just as I thought I was about to be
squished to death, the inward pressure stopped. I could only move my shoulders
a few inches.

If
it weren’t for Ed, I might have slowly starved away in the rattletrap. With his
incredible robotic strength, Ed forced the roof slightly higher, affording me a
clear reach to my sword. I stretched my fingers, feeling the renewed
circulation of blood within the ligaments of my biceps and shoulders. I
massaged my shoulder, just so I could convince myself my blood pressure was
returning to normal.

‘Just
a little more, Ed!’ I yelled.

I
grabbed my gun-blade Wrath, and flipped the switch to
on
, using Wrath to
initiate destruction on the hull of the ship. Wrath was glorious at that
moment. As I felt a swell of pride, I slashed away at the junk. The damage
incurred was devastating to the vessel after I let loose the fury of Wrath.

I
stood on top of the ship wreckage and reached inward to grab Ed to pull him
out, but to my surprise, he levitated toward me. The metal compartment on his
back was a type of jet pack. Yes, he was the bot that was just full of
surprises.

‘Oh
man,’ I said, shaking my head at our narrow escape.  ‘We were dead—we were so
dead, Ed.’ I grabbed my hair, attempting to set my thoughts straight. ‘Now I’m
rhyming! Ed, you only have a limited supply of energy. We need to save it. I
don’t want you to use your jet pack because I can carry us both with my
lifters.’ He told me that he only needed to be plugged in for a second to reach
maximum energy capacity. Wow!

Upon
his side, Ed pulled out a phaser and started looking about with high alert. I
let my sword’s phosphorus green blade glow in the shade under the canopy.

The
jungle was thick and overwhelmingly lush. There were thousands of different
species of plants surrounding us. We stared at the ecosystem—both stupefied
with awe. If Ed could feel emotion, that is.

‘Don’t
make any sudden move,’ a voice whispered from behind my ear. I felt a sharp
point of a weapon teasing about on the skin on the back of my neck.

The
honed object intensified the tension of my neck muscles. I would not look back,
lest I provoke whatever was behind me.

‘You
hear me robot? Don’t move! I will drive this spear into the spine of your
master,’ the male voice said, restricting us to an awkward silence. “Just start
walking forward and don’t look back, if I even see the whites of your eyes or a
flap of your binoculars, robot, this boy will be a human shish kabob.’

We
walked through a worn path suffocated by overhanging foliage. Claustrophobia—a
fear that I was never acquainted with—swelled up inside me. Finally, after
several minutes of hacking away at the frondescence, there was a clearing in
front of us. After we broke through the last layer of the forest, we were at
the edge of a cliff. I was afraid to look down.

‘Now,
which one of you is in command? Don’t try anything either or you will regret
it,’ the alien said. He poked at my neck with his spear from behind, daring me
to fall into the canyon.