CHAPTER NINE

 

 

 

Nova's body plummeted through the air. Wind rushed past her skin and pulled her hair up into a wild spread. Her clothes ruffled around her and her thick jacket buffeted up around her ears.

She landed with bent knees and allowed her body to fall and roll, taking most of the force. A twinge of pain came from her ankle, but when she tested it she could still walk.

A bloody corpse lay next to her right leg, one of the soldiers who had escorted her to Codon's ship the first time. Blood seeped around his open eyes and from his nose and mouth. More blood pooled beneath his ears and his left leg lay twisted up near his hip.

Nova drew in a deep breath and turned away from the dead man. She was still here and alive, that's what she had to focus on. She was the only one left who would do anything to stop the aliens and she didn't have much time. They were working hard on their ships. How long before they could fly? One day? An hour? A year?

She shook her head. She could go mad thinking about the possibilities. She had to focus. There was only one way she could overcome the alien threat; learn everything she could about them and use their weaknesses against them.

Easier said than done. She was already exhausted from her long night walking through the tunnels and arguing with Codon. Her ribs ached where Alaina had kicked her, and she had no idea where to start.

"Observe and gather information."

She'd learned that line from a scientist bent on teaching the human colonies about scientific integrity and inquiry. He was a relic from a bygone era; a dinosaur in the unquestioning, technologically-stagnant, modern world. He was similar to Codon in some ways but very different in others.

Nova crept forward, shielded by the fallen ships and raised dirt. Her feet left deep prints in the newly churned soil but she didn't dare take the time to cover her tracks.

She moved in as close as she dared; all the way to the final line of ships. These were all toppled onto their sides and dented from the shock-wave. Bleeding bodies dotted the sand all around.

Nova peered around the edge of at ship.

Bright moonlight illuminated the aliens' metal bodies. Overlapping segments made up their torsos and their legs resembled those of a lizard, with one too many joints; as if they walked on the balls of their feet.

The sounds of hammers, welders, and saws rang through the night air. Metal scraped and clanged and under it all were the alien voices. Nova cursed her translator for not transforming the words, investigating would be a lot easier if she knew what they were saying, what they were planning.

One alien lifted a hand to its neck and felt around. It said something and then lifted the metal casing from its shoulders to reveal an elongated head underneath. The face was covered in scales and the back of the head extended up to a bone crest. Two eyes, the size of Nova's fists, surveyed the landscape, above a tiny nose and a massive mouth that wrapped around the side of the creature's head, filled with razor-sharp teeth.

The creature looked down at the helmet and ran its clawed fingers along the base, where the seal connected it to the rest of the armor. The creature made more clicking buzzing sounds and then tossed the helmet to the side.

A smaller alien hurried over with a new helmet and handed it to the bare-headed creature. The alien grabbed the new helmet and slammed it down over its head, tapping the seal as soon as it was in place.

Nova had to admire the armor. It fit so well and moved so smoothly that she'd assumed the creatures were robots, made of metal. If it was just an armored casing, did they even have tails? And what about the long claws; were they real or just part of their clothing?

Nova shivered.

"Anything?" she asked Cal.

"Some of their features match drawings on file," Cal said. "Other than that, they don't match any species designation."

Nova sighed. She hadn't expected them to register, but it would have been nice if they did. "Which drawings?"

Cal forwarded a collection of images to Nova's chip. The device transmitted the images to her visual cortex, and she could see them as if they were right in front of her.

Just as she'd suspected; the drawings were from ancient caves on Old-Earth, from the walls of the pyramids and other unreachable places.

The drawings showed creatures, much taller than the humans bowing before them. It depicted the aliens bestowing gifts and killing people. They were gods in the eyes of the humans who had made the drawings and now Nova had a chance to meet them.

But the bodies all around her feet said everything she needed to know. These were not the gift-giving kind.

Nova grimaced. "Observe and gather."

She blinked the cave drawings away and focused on the aliens. Sleek ships formed, along with long black barrels attached to hand-held triggers and cannons the size of cars.

The biggest of the aliens yelled but didn't do any of the work while the rest scurried across the desert and down into the tombs. They returned with metal plates and other tools piled high in their arms which they deposited on the sand.

It was as if the aliens had come out of hibernation with a plan already formed. They were just acting out the final parts of some kind of rehearsed play. Nova's stomach churned at thoughts of the finale.

The weapons were a good hint to how the story would end. Whatever the aliens used to be, they weren't peace-bringing planet-founders any more. They were destroyers, if the dead bodies scattered across the planet were anything to go by. The only thing Nova could do was work out how to stop them before they repaired their ships and weaponry otherwise there was no way she could stop them, and as far she knew, neither could anyone else in the human galaxies.

"How were they stopped before?" she asked herself.

She thought back on every piece of history, every scrap of research she'd ever done. She ran back over all the papers she'd read that theorized the existence of the Ancients. In all of them, one thing was certain; at some point in time, the Ancients vanished without a trace.

How?

Nova's mind whizzed around in circles. There must have been some clue left over; some hint as to what happened. The creatures she saw before her wouldn't lock themselves away, not without a fight. So, why had they been trapped inside a planet?

Perhaps if she got a different view…

Nova bent low and scurried from her hiding place to the next ship; a green racer. She stopped and strained her ears, no sounds of discovery.

She drew a deep breath and dashed for the next ship; a Confederacy service vehicle, but her foot caught on something solid buried in the sand and she hurtled forward. She landed on her stomach and grains of sand flicked into her eyes and ground between her teeth.

She snapped her mouth shut to stop a yelp and glanced back. She'd tripped over a body. A bloody hand protruded out from the sand, as if reaching for something.

Nova backed away from the corpse until her back pressed against the service vehicle. She buried her boots into the sand and scraped them back and forth but the feel of the body against her legs wouldn't go away.

Crystals of sands scraped her eyes and made them sting. She rubbed, managed to brush the grains free.

She stayed sitting on the sand; she was tired, mentally and physically. Her thoughts circled around her grumbling stomach and the pain throbbing from different parts of her body. There was no way she could even think about defeating an ancient alien race at that moment. She needed to go back to Crusader and work out her next move from there.

She used the ships as cover and ran up the hill, away from the trees. The sounds of the Ancients carried on the wind. At the top of the hill she looked back.

Metal weapons and ships reflected the light of the two moons; the little circle of activity was lit up like a stadium while the rest of the desert was dark and silent.

Nova turned and raced across the sand. The cool desert wind steeled her nerves and let her think. By the time she got to Crusader she felt more rested than she would have if she'd fallen asleep behind a toppled spaceship.

Everything inside Crusader was just as she had left it. That struck her as odd. After everything she'd seen, the world should have changed. Something should have shifted, some kind of mark of the massive event. There was nothing. As far as the universe was concerned, or at least Crusader, nothing had happened.

"Today has been… interesting," Cal said, as the door slid shut behind Nova.

"Yes."

The robot's tone was cautious, confused. No doubt Cal's internal simulation software had not predicted the return of the Ancients.

"Crusader's engines refuse to take off," Cal said.

"Crusader, diagnose problem," Nova said.

"Diagnostics show no problem; however I am still unable to take off."

"It's probably a form of force-field," Cal said.

"They're trying to keep us here?" Nova said.

"There is no evidence that they know we survived. It is probably a safety precaution to prevent survivors from warning others."

"That's a lot of planning."

"Preparing for possible outcomes," Cal said, as if he would expect nothing less.

"I need to eat and think about this."

"The usual?"

"Please."

They moved through Crusader, to the dining pod. Nova pulled the folded bench down from the wall. It locked into place and she slumped down, resting her elbows on the table and head in her hands. She stared down at the patterns on the table, her eyes tracing each tiny bump and groove.

"Chicken and chips," Cal said, when the food generator dinged.

Cal hovered to her, the pincer at the end of his thin arm clutched a plate piled high with steaming chips. He placed it before her and produced a knife and fork from one of his many compartments. He handed them to Nova and then hovered away toward the command pod. The robot didn't usually fetch Nova's dinner, but just for today, she was happy to let Cal do it.

She shoveled hunks of spiced chicken and hot chips into her mouth. The salty taste was heaven on her deprived tongue. Every mouthful gave her more energy. Strength returned to her abused muscles and the stress of the day faded away. Warmth spread from her stomach and encompassed the rest of her body until finally, she laid down her cutlery and leaned back in her chair.

Nova allowed her eyes to slip closed and her mind to wander. Her thoughts raced with what she'd seen. The writing she'd translated, the massive shock-wave, and the strange species.

First encounters with a new species of sentient aliens were rare. Very few had occurred in the history of the human colonies. Nova's stomach churned with both excitement and terror that she was lucky enough to be here. Her imagination soared with the possibilities. If she could get to know them, to speak their language, who knew what secrets and technology they held?

"If they wanted to exchange ideas," Cal said, picking up on some of Nova's thoughts through her chip. "Why would they send out a shock-wave to kill all life on this planet?"

She frowned. His words sent her thoughts back to the scenes of the desert. The toppled ships and torn bodies replayed in her mind. "I don't know."

"I'm just saying, if they were a peaceful species, they wouldn't have started with that," Cal said.

"Maybe they had a bad experience when they went in and they were making sure the same threat wasn't here?"

"That sounds unlikely."

"I suppose it takes a special kind of species to decorate their tombs with promises of taking over the universe."

"Exactly."

"Well I'm not going to go in there with guns blazing. I don't want to be the one that starts a war."

"Shouldn't Doctor Codon be introducing the human species?" Cal said. "He is in more of an official position than you."

"You heard him," Nova said. "The Doctor would rather leave the planet and find one of his superiors to do it."

"I don't think we'll have that much time."

"Yeah, plus he's as stranded as us."

"I have a bad feeling about this."

"You're a robot," Nova said. "You're not supposed to get feelings."

"I can if all of the available data points to a poor outcome," Cal said, collecting her empty plate and disappearing around the corner.

She grunted and went back to staring at the table. She knew her body was exhausted, that she should probably rest, but how could she? There was no way to know how long she had before the Ancients had ships, and were on their way to the human colonies.

Her mind bounced back and forth from one course of action to another. She had to sleep; it was the only way to get her head back in the game. Six hours would be enough to get her body back into working order and mind straight. If the Ancients managed to make lift-off before then, well there wasn't much she could do.

She pushed herself up from the table and trudged to her sleeping pod. She collapsed onto her bed.

"You're covered in sand," Cal said. His voice ripped Nova out of her near-sleep.

"I know."

"You should shower before going to bed."

"But I'm so tired."

"I have to clean your sheets."

"What do you mean clean them?" she said. "You pick them up and throw them into this shoot."

She held out her hand and tapped a rectangular panel next to her bed. It led down underneath her bed to where Crusader's more mechanical parts did their work. The sheets would be cleaned, dried and then sent back up to a shelf next to her bed.

"Well, it's annoying," Cal said.

"Again," Nova said. "You're a robot. Things aren't supposed to be annoying; you're just supposed to do them."

"Ah but you're forgetting something very important," Cal said.

"What?"

"I'm a very special robot."

Cal chuckled, hovering out of Nova's reach.

She groaned and swiped her hand after him, far too slow. She glanced down at her bed; there were already grains of sand spread across the sheets.

"Damned robot."