Transient Echoes (21 page)

The door to his room swung open, sending a breeze of hot air toward him, ruffling the edges of his shirt. A man appeared, nearly as tall as the archway and dressed in metal armor.

“You’re awake,” said the stranger in the alien tongue. “Time to eat.”

At least he could understand these people now. Eight months of studying the language, and he was wasting it on a guard. “Okay,” said Terry, going along with it.

The man went to Terry’s bedside and silently examined the splint. Terry watched him leave, keeping the door wide open. A moment later, he returned, carrying a steaming bowl of what smelled like soup. Terry felt his stomach growl.

The stranger unstrapped Terry’s head, then poured the warm liquid into his mouth. “Drink,” said the man.

Terry did, ignoring the bitter taste. He drank until it was gone.

The man stood and left again, closing the door.

“Hello?” called Terry, but there was no answer. Was anyone going to tell him what the hell was going on? Not that it’d do him any good, of course. Whoever these people were, they’d abducted him, taken him prisoner. Strapped him in this bed like some kind of animal.

Is that it?
He asked himself.
Am I an animal to these people?

“No way,” said his sister’s voice.

He turned to look at her, this time with the full range of his neck. The guard had apparently forgotten to strap him back in. Another little victory.

Janice stood once more in the middle of the room, twisting her waist and flailing her hands playfully. “What do we do now?” she asked.

Hell if he knew. What options did he have? He could only move his head, and what good did it do him?

“Good point,” she said, tapping her chin with her finger. “Got any bright ideas?”

He grunted.

“Don’t be such a stinky-face.”

He fidgeted, wriggling beneath the leather. If he could somehow manage to loosen the straps...

Janice scuttled to his side. She tapped his wrist. “Start with this one. It looks the easiest.”

He did as she suggested, thumbing the strap and pulling his hand. Much to his surprise, the band was looser than it looked. After trying a few different angles, he managed to slide most of his wrist through the leather. Almost there.

“You’re doing great!” she said.

He jerked his palm the rest of the way through and finally freed it. With an open hand, he made short work of the other strap. In less than two minutes he was out of the bed and limping. His accelerated healing could only do so much. He’d have to wait a few days before he could walk around.

“I knew you could do it,” said Janice.

“If you know so much, find me a way out,” he muttered.

“Too easy,” she said. “Wait for the guard and beat him up!” She playfully jabbed the air with her fists, pretending to fight. “Pow pow pow!”

He ignored her and scanned the room. There was the bed, a small barred window, and the door. No other way out. He’d rather avoid a confrontation, but there might not be any other option.

“Maybe you can bust through,” said Janice.

He pressed both his palms against the door and pushed. When nothing happened, he closed his eyes and tried again, pulling from his strength. But nothing happened.

What good was being superhuman if he couldn’t even break down a single door?

“I thought for sure you could do it,” his sister said, frowning. “Oh, well.”

“Leave me alone,” he said.

“Don’t be so mean!” she snapped.

“I said get away from me!” he yelled. “You’re not real. Look at—”

Someone coughed, and the sound pulled Terry out of his delusion. He blinked and found his little sister gone.

The cough came again, this time from the wall near his bed. He leaned against it and listened. Whoever it was, they were sitting less than a few meters away. “Hello?” said Terry in the alien tongue. “Who’s there?”

Another cough. “Who is it?” asked the voice.

“My name is Terry. Can you hear me?”

A short pause. “Terry? Is that really you? It’s me, Ludo.”

“Are you alright?” he asked. “You sound hurt.”

“I’m tired. I need to rest.” His words were soft and his voice a whisper.

“What did they do to you?” asked Terry. There was a long pause. “Ludo?”

But an answer never came.

******

Somewhere on Kant

January 17, 2351

Terry sat with his back against the wall adjacent to Ludo’s cell. A day had gone by without so much as a word from him, and no one had opened the door to Terry’s cell. He wondered if anyone ever would. Had they put him here to die? Why not just shoot him and get it over with?

The light coming from the window told him it was midday. Earlier, a man had tossed a piece of rotting fruit through a slit in the door. Terry chose not to eat it, but now he regretted it. His stomach ached, and it made him sick.

I’ve gone longer than this without food,
he reminded himself. But while it was certainly true, his stomach had apparently forgotten. The last several months spent stuffing himself with fresh meals every day on Ludo’s farm had spoiled him.

Janice visited him with erratic frequency, appearing and disappearing at random intervals, taunting him with her childishness. He knew she wasn’t really there, but sometimes it took a bit of convincing. He could see her now, the body of the girl from his youth. His baby sister.

Damn her.

The afternoon brought a chill as an outside breeze found its way into the cell. If it hadn’t been so cold, he might have found it refreshing. Not long afterwards, Terry heard the door of Ludo’s cell swing open.

“Is the traitor dead?” came a stranger’s voice.

“The wound is wide and deep,” said another.

“You will fix him,” said the first.

“I will try,” agreed the second.

“We need him awake. The Lord has questions.”

Terry pressed his ear against the wall. He could hear someone scuffing the floor, bumping into things. After a moment, the door slammed shut and the men made their way down the hall. It was quiet for a long time.

Night came. Terry crawled under the window and stared into the darkened sky. The clouds were clearing and he managed to catch sight of the stars. Ludo had shown him a few of the constellations during their months together. There was Gorodos the Great Fish, Keeda the Mother, and Talo the Hunter, for which Ludo’s son was named. Talo chased an animal called Windu, which as far as Terry could tell was some kind of wolf, but probably not. Windu was from stories, Ludo had said. As for Gorodos, he swam in the eastern sky this time of year, hovering over the horizon. Terry wished he knew about these characters when he was alone in the jungle.

Looking at Windu, Terry closed his eyes and allowed himself to sleep.

In the early hours of the morning, before the first of the two suns had risen, a sound erupted from the other cell, followed by the voices of the guards.

“He almost lost the ghost,” said one. “The Lord would have been angry.”

“Put him there,” said the other.

Terry crept to the wall, waiting for the guards to leave. They slammed the door, shaking the stone floor, and finally left. He listened closely, focusing his mind, filtering out whatever he found unimportant.

After a moment, he heard breathing, slow and steady, fused with the beating of a healthy heart. There was someone there, but was it Ludo?

“Hello?” whispered Terry to the wall. “Ludo, can you hear me?”

No answer.

He raised his voice a little. “It’s Terry. Are you there?”

The body on the other side let out a soft moan. He’s alive, thought Terry. “Ludo!”

“Terry…” muttered his friend.

“Are you alright?”

“I must…” His voice trailed a bit, like he was about to pass out. “…Ysa…” His breathing slowed again, this time replaced by a light snore. He must have been exhausted.

The night crept by, but Terry couldn’t sleep. His thoughts were on his friend, and he burned at the possibility of what those men had done. What reason did they have for doing any of this? What had Ludo ever done to them? Why had they called him a traitor? He was only a simple farmer, living peacefully with his family…wasn’t he?

Of course. Anything else was absurd.

******

Somewhere on Kant

January 18, 2351

Much to Terry’s relief, Ludo was still alive the next day. He did not wake until the midafternoon, however, and so Terry waited, listening from inside his tiny cell.

When Ludo did awaken, he let loose a series of violent coughs. Between outbursts, Terry asked him questions. “What is this place? Where did those men take you? How do we get out?”

Ludo gave short answers. This was a Xel prison. The men had taken him to a healer because of his wound. There was no escape. Not yet.

“What do they want with us?” asked Terry.

“They have Ysa,” said Ludo, clearing his throat. “They will make us slaves or kill us.”

“What about Talo?” asked Terry.

“I don’t think they caught him,” said Ludo. “I taught him to go to the cliffs behind the valley, to the cave near the water. He will wait for us there.”

“How long will he wait?”

“A few weeks. If we do not meet him, he will go to my sister’s home in West Lake. She will look after him.”

“I don’t understand any of this, Ludo. Why did they take Ysa?”

“Ysa is a priestess. She flies higher than most. She is sacred. You saw her in the field. You know.”

Terry remembered the fight at the farm between Ysa and the purpled-eyed man. They were unstoppable, the both of them, fast and strong like gods. Each of them put Terry to shame. Was
that
what flying meant? To do what Ysa had? “How do I fly?” asked Terry.

Ludo coughed and spat, gurgling phlegm in a desperate attempt to breathe. It took him a while before he was able to continue, and when he did, his voice was hoarse and dry, cracking between words. “It takes a long time to fly like Ysa,” said Ludo. “Many years are needed. Meditation and study. All the days must be filled with study, but most can never achieve it. Ysa was born already flying. This is why she is special.”

“But you meditate all the time,” said Terry.

“Everyone has it in them to fly. Some are natural fliers, but each of us is capable. Until the ghost is gone, we must try to touch the sky.”

Terry thought of the meditation sessions. If only he had more time to study the practice. He was getting so close to understanding.

“Ludo,” said Terry, pressing the corner of his forehead to the wall. “I’m sorry we’re here. I’m sorry this happened to you and your family.”

“Thank you, my friend,” said Ludo, and then he was quiet.

A few minutes later, Terry heard snoring from the other side, and he dared not wake him. Ludo deserved his rest.

Terry crossed his legs, put his hands atop his knees, and closed his eyes. He performed the breathing exercises he’d learned from Ludo and Talo, and attempted to clear his thoughts.

He didn’t think this would accomplish anything meaningful. After all, sitting quietly with his eyes shut hardly seemed proactive. It was something to do, he figured—better than talking to a make-believe four-year-old. More productive than dwelling on problems for which he had no solution.

Better this than going mad.

******

Ortego Reconstruction Outpost

January 18, 2351

Framling Coil twenty-three was finally up and running—the first piece of the final set of installs surrounding the Ortego site. If Mei’s calculations were correct, and she wasn’t sure they were, this would bring the radiation levels down enough for her team to get in there and find the source.

Whatever that entailed.

Mei and her people had driven to within a few hundred meters of the Ortego facility. They waited, geared and ready for the flippies to finish installing the final coil. John and Bart stood beside Mei, while Zoe remotely operated Dee and Dum from the back of the Dirt Cab. “How’s it coming?” called Mei.

Zoe poked her head over the side of the cab. “Any second. Hold on.”

“Think this’ll work?” asked John, glancing at Bart.

“You questioning my craftsmanship?”

John held his hands up. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good,” said Bart with half a grin.

“Remember, when the coil goes live, don’t rush in,” said Mei. “Let the flippies run their scan. We need to make sure—”

“Don’t worry, Doc. We’ll do this by the book,” said Bart.

“There’s a book for this kind of thing?” asked John.

Bart cocked his brow. “I’ll send you an autographed copy when I’m done writing it.”

“No accidents,” reiterated Mei.

Bart nodded.

“Okay,” said Zoe. “A few seconds and...we’re good! Fever Killer twenty-three is up and running!”

“Do a radiation test as soon as you can,” ordered Mei.

“Yes, ma’am,” said Zoe. “This will only take a minute or two.”

Mei took the time to recheck the seals on her suit, then John’s. He didn’t argue.
No more accidents
, she told herself.

After ten minutes passed, Zoe called for the others to gather at the rear of the vehicle. “So there’s a few things.”

“Is this a good news and bad news kind of situation?” asked John.

“Sure,” she said. “First, the radiation levels are low enough for us to re-enter the area. The only problem is they’re fluctuating.”

“Is that the bad news?” asked John.

“Depends,” said Zoe. “I don’t know what it actually means.”

“It means it’s not stable,” said Mei.

“Maybe, but it could be nothing,” suggested Bart.

“We’re not taking the risk unless we’re certain. Zoe, continue monitoring the radiation levels. Give it a few hours. If they stay within an acceptable range, we’ll move in.”

Zoe didn’t argue.

It killed Mei to wait. She wanted nothing more than to get back to work—her real work—but she’d do it the right way. The safe way.

She was done taking risks.

******

They waited three and a half hours before Mei was satisfied with the readings. They stood in the afternoon sun, baking in their suits. She gave the go-ahead to enter the Ortego site, but ordered everyone to be ready to leave at a moment’s notice. Zoe would stay with the Dirt Cab, monitoring the rad levels in case there was a change. The rest of them would work, and they would do it quickly.