Dorrikk
Dorrikk’s Secret
THE CAST:
Dorrikk, Brack, Jerbbekk, Tanzine
Peter, Kobios, Daviss, Stanza, Z34aTip
Lord High Elder Robbijj, The Queen, Master, Nama-Krikk,
Dorrikk was a mystery.
From a young age, she’d shown compassion missing from most of the Zerot. Spending her free time wandering the living pods of the slave compounds, tending to wounds and trying to give hope any way she could. The authorities had long given up trying to stop her. They’d decided she wasn’t worth of the effort.
Now, as a young adult, she carried on with her work. The Zerot guards were protective of her, her generosity and cheerful demeanour somehow touching them at a subconscious level. She was a small but essential respite to their humdrum existence.
But not everyone was happy with her carefree existence. The secretive Varr society was getting ever more fraught at her public openness as she matured, risking the identity of their society, vigorously protected from the Zerot for over eight hundred years.
The Varr Society represented a tiny indigenous population thought to have perished over eleven thousand years ago.
And Dorrikk was their queen.
The Vercetians had been in the massive slave compound for over a week and their initial perception of the slum-like conditions the occupants endured had changed radically over that time. They realised that the will to survive and try to live an ordinary life was rife. They had stopped counting at two hundred different species. Each had fashioned micro-communities, even though space was at a premium and their neighbours were only a few feet away. Universal translators were unheard of in here, only the guards and the Z34a’s had access to them. But over many centuries and countless generations, the slaves had developed their own universal language. A mishmash of the languages first conquered by the Zerot, refined by the addition of later races. Every species had their mother tongue, but all were proficient in Common.
Daviss was having an evening stroll through a pod in the eastern part of the compound, hitherto unexplored. It was his little ritual; giving Kobios and Peter some time together. He happened into a commotion amongst a group of reptilians. Zerot guards were dragging two of them away. Some of the reptilians made a desperate attempt to stop the abduction, but the guards forced them back, jabbing them repeatedly with taser sticks. As things died down, surrounding neighbours came to offer comfort. A female Zerot joined them, and also appeared to be consoling them. This both baffled and intrigued Daviss. He would never have expected such behaviour. She eventually left them, dejected, moving in his direction. He heard her murmur, ‘Such a pity.’
Daviss wanted to find out more about this stranger. ‘What just happened?’ he asked.
‘Why, the first trials, three days from now. The newest cadre will prove their worth by making their first kills. They’re collecting opponents from all over the compound this night. Why are you speaking to me in Zerot, not the common tongue?’
Daviss didn’t reply, annoyed at his blatant error.
‘You don’t sound like a Blueton, or have the bearing. What are you?’
Daviss had no answer.
‘Don’t be afraid. I won’t report you.’
‘You don’t seem to be a typical Zerot. Empathy for the slaves?’ he asked, deciding to risk all.
‘You don’t know me, do you?’ she said, her interest in Daviss palpable. ‘I’m Dorrikk. A friend to the slaves, and, I suppose, not your typical Zerot.’ She looked him up and down. ‘No, you aren’t a Blueton. Holographic enhancements? Show me your authentic form.’
She’d found him out, and he had nothing to lose. All attention was still on the reptilians, so he touched the brooch under his tunic. He became a Preenasettian again. A head cap instead of hair, ears gone, and his muscular body replacing the saggier, undefined shape of the Blueton. He switched back immediately.
‘Interesting,’ she said, not concerned in the slightest. ‘What is your purpose here?’
‘Reconnaissance,’ he replied. ‘We want to stop your species, and free the galaxy of the game you play.’
‘Not a game I play. And not game most of the Zerot play. You could say it’s a game for the benefit of just a few, or even just one Zerot. A ruler unknown to most of her people.’
‘You speak of the Zerot as if you aren’t one.’
It was Dorrikk’s turn to hesitate. Daviss had touched on something of great importance.
‘Are you with the Gargan?’
‘Gargan?’ he replied. ‘What Gargan?’
‘Stanza De-Lay-Brandon he said his name was. He’s the worst spy ever. If he’s with you, your plan is doomed to failure.’
‘He’s on our ship. He’s not supposed to be here.’
‘Meet me here tomorrow evening,’ she said. ‘Right now, I have somewhere to be.’
‘Where did you see the Gargan?’ he shouted after her.
‘The northernmost pod.’ And with that, she left.
Daviss went back to the others to share his news and to organise a search party to find Stanza. There was no sign of Peter and Kobios at the small shelter they’d made their own. Gone exploring, he assumed. A Clementel female joined him. They had thought it better to base themselves near a race they understood, rather than the Bluetons, who might have seen through their disguises. The female warrior placed a hand on his shoulder.
‘Our commiserations, my friend,’ she said.
‘Why so?’ asked Daviss.
‘Your two friends,’ she replied, ‘the Zerot guards have taken them. They will fight for their lives in the Games Arena in three days.’
‘Which way did they go?’
‘East, towards the city centre and the arena,’ the Clementel said. ‘But there’s nothing you can do. There were four guards and a Z34a. They stunned and magnetically immobilised them.’
Daviss nodded and hurried away, showing a speed of foot rarely seen from a Blueton. It was two miles to the perimeter of the slave enclosure, after that and they would be beyond his reach. He caught up with them a few hundred yards from the boundary and got in front of them, joining a small pack of morbid onlookers, eager to see those selected by the Zerot roving the slave pen for arena fodder.
The guards had magnetically trussed Peter and Kobios to a floating pole being pushed effortlessly along by the Z34a. They were conscious. Daviss looked about, hoping for some inspiration, for some smart idea to rescue his friends. But there was nothing. He called out over the din of the crowd, ‘Peter!’
Peter and Kobios heard his call and were scanning the crowd. Peter was first to find him and immediately shook his head. Daviss knew what his friend was saying to – do nothing; it’s only you now. He clenched his fist and gestured to them, Stay strong, as they passed through the barrier. They disappeared into the tunnel and he turned away with new resolve and began weighing the options available to him.
The technician was almost standing to attention as one of the most senior Zerot in the land grilled him about the Z34a he’d been analysing.
‘Has this unit been rebooted?’
‘Has this unit been rebooted?’ said Lord High Elder Robbijj.
‘I’m quite sure it hasn’t,’ the technician replied. ‘We have no record of this unit.’ Z34aGat stood deactivated next to him.
‘Is that sure, very sure, or certain?’
‘Is that sure, very sure, or certain?’ relayed Robbijj.
The technician stood up even straighter. ‘Certain, my Lord.’
‘Is that the extent of the infiltration party, Robbijj? I’m not so sure. Ask him if there are likely to be any more rogue Z34a’s.’
‘Is this the only one? What is the likelihood of others going undetected?’
‘All I can go by is the sweep carried out at the time of the cargo ship landing. No signs of any other life or power signatures.’ He was wilting under Robbijj’s gaze. ‘We weren’t looking for any purposely concealed units,’
‘Leave him, High Elder, before I instruct you to sever his stupid head from his useless shoulders. Tell him to dismantle the unit for spare parts and destroy all the processors. Dismissed.’
‘I’m still not sure we’ve fully captured this little insurgence,’ she said. ‘What are your thoughts, Master Nama-Krikk?’
‘You are rarely incorrect, my queen,’ he replied. ‘I would suggest stepping back before moving forwards. Review all data gathered in the period following the vessel’s arrival – the three nearest monitors. Change the observers and check calibration of their spectral pattern recognition enhancements. Phase shift them on a loop keeping inside the universal time constant to allow them normal speed review. The entire process should be finished in forty minutes. We can decide on any further action then.’
‘Phase shift them on a time loop? You never seem to worry about harming my prize males, Nama-Krikk.’
‘They will get over it in a month or two. Your males are made of stern stuff.’
‘Do it,’ she instructed. The queen turned to her first male, who shadowed her every move.
‘Check all Z34a’s entering the space hub for programme modifications and initiate lockdown procedure in the slave pens until I’m happy that there’s no more to this incursion.’ The male nodded. ‘And get the crazy female out of there. Her actions bore me.’
‘A Blueton?’ Brack asked.
‘Yes,’ Dorrikk replied, ‘and I’ll meet him again this evening in the compound.’
‘Do you know what you’re doing?’ Jerbbekk demanded. ‘This could be an elaborate ruse by the Zerot to catch you out. They let you wander as a child, but now you’re of age they may take a keener interest in you.’
‘They’re probably aware of the admiration you have amongst the slaves,’ Tanzine added, ‘and with many of the guards.’ Dorrikk’s mother caressed her daughter’s extended horns, subconsciously straightening her clothes as though she was still a child.
‘He showed me his authentic form. He has the same goals as us. That is, if we still have goals.’ Again, Dorrikk was showing her frustration at the lack of commitment among her society members. She was the twenty-second Darfelot queen in waiting and wanted her life to matter. ‘When has an opportunity like this presented itself to us?’ She stood tall, hands on hips, mustering all the authority she could. ‘Come up with a safe way for all of us to meet with him, by all means. But let’s establish his motives and usefulness.’
‘She’s correct,’ Brack said to the other two. ‘This is a rare opportunity. We must find out more about this.’
Jerbbekk put his hand to his chin. ‘Only if we can come up with a sound plan. Get the others here.’
After two days, nearly everyone in the northern slave pod knew of Stanza.
After Peter and Kobios’s abduction, Daviss headed straight for the northern pod, and it didn’t take him long to find out that not only were the slave species aware of remnants of many of their races but that they knew of Residuum. He had to find the Gargan, and quickly, before he blew their cover. He found Stanza with a group of Xverre, jet black reptilians that spent more time on all fours than upright. They were listening to him with heads cocked to one side, allowing one eye to view him while the other scanned their periphery.
‘… while the Bellagarn and Bellogorn grew larger…’ Stanza was saying. Daviss had heard this many times and decided, as it was near the end, to let him finish. ‘… becoming perfect in their minds eyes, the Gargan – as they called us – developed naturally. Our system was old, one of the first suns in the galaxy, and was dying. So, the great evacuation occurred. We searched for new, younger planets to inhabit, and the subcultures finally separated and followed their own paths.’
‘So, how many of our species live on Residuum?’ one of the Xverre asked, clearly more interested in this information than Stanza’s rambling.
‘No idea. The only two I know are the ones on our ship, Sopna and Balk…’
‘Stanza!’ barked Daviss. ‘That’s enough of your crazy stories.’ He and put his arm around the Gargan, easing him up and coaxing him away. ‘We’re all coming to realise that this little one is a storyteller of significant note. The Troikans have met his kind before and warned us.’ The reptilians looked confused. ‘Come on now, little one, let’s leave these folks in peace.’
Away from them, Daviss’s voice was low but urgent. ‘What are you doing here? And are you trying to get us all caught?’
‘We’ve come to help you. The Zerot captured the others,’ replied Stanza. ‘Have you seen any of them?’
‘No, none. We’re waiting for Nog to make contact, but it’s been a few days and nothing.’ Daviss herded Stanza down a tunnel connecting the giant slave compound pods, hoping for some privacy. ‘Tell me, Stanza, what makes you think they were captured?’
Stanza explained how he came to be there, concluding with, ‘Here are the scars from the surgery.’
Daviss studied the horrendous scaring, his feelings a pendulum, swinging from horror to admiration. ‘I have more bad news for you, Stanza. Peter and Kobios are fighting for their lives in the arena in a couple of days.’
‘What can we do?’ asked Stanza De-Lay-Brandon. ‘There are just the two of us.’
‘I’m meeting that Zerot woman this evening, who seems to be sympathetic to our cause. I’ve no other ideas. We can’t even get out of the slave compound.’
‘She’s nice,’ said Stanza, but his mind was elsewhere. ‘Daviss. Something strange happened while the Zerot were dissecting me. I was looking down on myself as they cut me open. I remember everything as clearly as this conversation with you. They said my cellular structure was “biologically immortal” and that I could have been ancient because I never age. That’s why they put me back together. They want to carry out further experiments on me. I’m afraid. They have Bellogorn here – they’re using them to keep track of the slaves.’
‘They won’t do anything while I’m with you, Stanza. That, I promise.’ He put his hand on the Gargan, edging him further into the tunnel, the light of the next pod in the distance. ‘How far back do you remember, little one?’
‘About twenty years. But that’s the strange thing, I don’t remember my childhood, and I don’t know how old I am. I arrived at the Doth Pleasure Moon four years ago and was welcomed back by many elderly residents who knew me well. But I had no recollection of them, or even being there. I believe my race is scattered about this sector of the galaxy because my stories say that. But I’m not sure if I’ve ever met one.’
‘You may have a short-term memory condition. I don’t know. Come now, we need to rest. Let’s find somewhere to lie low, away from prying eyes. When the time is right, we will find out all about your past.’
The queen beckoned to Nama-Krikk. ‘How are my drones?’ she asked.
‘Not too bad,’ he replied. ‘They found the information early on, so their recovery will be swift. It seems Screen 14 was unattended for a short while during the purging of the intruders and the subsequent clean up. This is what we found.’
Nama-Krikk played the recording of a second rogue Z34a emerging from the mining vessel with three Bluetons in tow. ‘We have confirmed the reboot of the AI during the global check of all Z34a’s, but the fake Bluetons are still at large.’
‘Very good, Master Nama-Krikk,’ said the queen, while turning to Screen 14 and entering the mind of the drone manning it, exacting some discipline.
She left the drone writhing in pain on the floor. ‘Are we sure these are the only remaining members of this little incursion?’
‘Absolutely, except for the females in your guest chambers, all are accounted for.’
‘Round up every Blueton. Check them all for disguises and then kill them. Bring the impostors to me.’
Daviss had gone to meet Dorrikk at the appointed hour, but she’d failed to turn up. He waited an hour and was on his way back to where he’d left Stanza sleeping. He was sure he was being followed, and ducked into an alley at the next turn. He waited until he heard footsteps and risked a look. Two Zerot clearly in search of someone. The female saw him and whispered to the male.
‘Are you the Blueton that Dorrikk met yesterday?’ the female asked.
‘Who is Dorrikk?’
‘Everyone in the slave pens knows her,’ said the male. ‘This is the one,’ he said to the female.
‘She left earlier to meet you, and we followed later. When we got there, you were there, but she wasn’t.’ The female was distraught. ‘Did she meet you?’
‘No,’ replied Daviss. ‘I waited for an hour. She never came.’
The two Zerot whispered animatedly. All Daviss heard was the female’s parting words, ‘Stick to the plan.’
‘Go with Tanzine,’ the male instructed Daviss. ‘She can get you out of the pens to a safe place, where we can talk. I’ll try to find out if the guards know Dorrikk whereabouts.’
He left without giving Daviss a chance to reply. Tanzine took his arm and led him in the other direction. ‘You’ll need to wear this to get past the perimeter guards.’ She tried to put a collar around his neck.
‘What is that?’ he said, resisting her.
‘An obedience collar.’ She stepped in front of him. ‘Do you want to get out of here? This is non-negotiable. I’ll deactivate it once we’re through.’
He let her fit the device.
At the perimeter, she presented a document to a guard, who scanned it and handed it back. ‘A Blueton? Not my choice for this sort of work,’ he said.
‘They’re very slow, I know,’ she replied. ‘But the quality of their work is better than most. And,’ a shock went through Daviss, making him jump. ‘I like the way they respond to discipline.’ They both laughed and she and Daviss passed through the disabled section of force field.
‘Sorry about that. The device is off. Please follow a short distance behind me. Looks count.’
‘Yes, madam,’ Daviss replied, hoping that Stanza would be okay. Both of them were unaware of pair of composite red eyes watching from the shadows.
They arrived at an accommodation block, where Tanzine navigated a maze of identical-looking domiciles. Tanzine stopped at an entrance and looked anxiously around, dragging Daviss in quickly behind her. Another Zerot awaited them inside and the Zerot chivvied Daviss into a second room, which Daviss could see wasn’t originally part of this dwelling.
‘I’m Jerbbekk,’ the strange Zerot said. ‘Before we tell you anything, we need you to tell us what you told Dorrikk yesterday. Convinced me you can be trusted. Showing us who you really are would be a good start.’
‘I’m from a world called Residuum. A planet of survivors of the Zerot.’ He deactivated his holographic enhancements.
‘You certainly aren’t a Blueton,’ Jerbbekk said, stating the obvious. ‘What are you? And why are you here?’
‘I’m a Preenasettian. The survivors on Residuum have spent the last few thousand years trying to find a way to stop the Zerot. We just learned the location of this planet, this mission was to assess your strengths and weaknesses. I’m afraid it’s done little more than show us our own weaknesses.’
There was a tap on the door.
‘That will be Brack,’ Tanzine said, reaching for the latch that activated the door. But it wasn’t Brack.
Tanzine buried her face in Jerbbekk’s chest, cringing away from the thing in the doorway. The Zerot guards were feared, but the Z34a standing before them, surveying the secrets of the room was as terrifying as it was unexpected. It wasn’t alone. It held a smaller creature under one arm, one the two Darfelot had never seen before.
How on Preenasette did he get here? Daviss thought, looking at the Gargan. ‘Is that you, Nog?’
‘No, it’s Tip, Daviss. I am rebooted, but I have wronged this little one, more than you can believe.’ Z34aTip gently touched Stanza De-Lay-Brandon. ‘My fourth processor is now non-functional, although fully activated. You could say, “My heart is broken.”’