Children of the Void: Book One of the Aionian Saga (7 page)

When they were standing outside the admiral’s private office, Takomi raised her visor and turned to look at Gideon. “Wait a second. Won’t it be locked? I didn’t even think about that.”

Gideon raised his own visor. “Good thing I did.” He tapped the side of his leg, and a small compartment opened up in his armor. From it, he pulled out a single metal key.

“Where did you get that?” asked Takomi as Gideon slid the key into the lock.

“My dad’s never trusted biometric locks, says he’s been alive too long, so he always has physical keys. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve known where he keeps the spares.”

Gideon turned the knob, and the door opened without a sound. He looked at Takomi before he stepped inside. She followed him, and he closed the door with a soft click.

A small desk lamp illuminated the room, casting dramatic shadows on the shelves. After placing his gloves on the desk, Gideon quickly found the leather-bound book with the strange symbol engraved on the spine. He placed the book on the desk next to the lamp. “It looks old.”

“All of these books are old, Gideon.”

“No, I mean really old. Older than my dad.”

Takomi stood next to him and looked down at the black leather cover. “It doesn’t have a title.”

Carefully, Gideon lifted the cover and turned the first few pages. They were surprisingly thick, almost like pliable sheet metal.

He frowned. “There’s no writing at all.”

The first few pages were covered in intricate geometric patterns made up of shimmering colors. Gideon ran the tips of his fingers over the stunning artwork and its subtle texture.

“I think it’s metal, somehow pressed into the pages.”

Takomi placed her fingers gently over the design. “It’s beautiful.”

The next page had a scene of a green landscape with a ring of ancient stones in the middle. It too was made with metal, resembling an opaque stained glass window.

“It’s Stonehenge,” said Takomi.

Gideon leaned in closer. “I think you’re right.”

The next few pages were etched in a similar style, likely by the same artist. One page depicted the pyramids of Egypt, and another looked like Chichén Itzá. Each page depicted some ancient monument or city. Some were familiar, but many were not. Even the Sentinel Armor’s AI couldn’t identify them.

Gideon turned another page, and Takomi sucked in a sharp breath. Several masks, some hideous, others beautiful, stared back at them. There was a roaring tiger, a jackal, and a falcon. Some had horns or fangs. One even had tentacles hanging off of it like a beard. Still others were human, such as an Assyrian warrior, a samurai, and an Egyptian queen. Each one was impressive, and they all seemed to be made of gold.

“What do you think they are?” asked Takomi.

“I don’t know. They’re all similar, but it looks like they’re from different cultures.”

The next page showed the two hemispheres of Earth. There were no borders or markings of any kind, just green and brown land separated by blue oceans. They looked over it quickly, then turned the page again. This time, they both gasped.

“Is that what I think it is?” whispered Gideon.

“It can’t be. Like you said, this book’s got to be hundreds of years old.”

Laid out before them was another map of two hemispheres with familiar continents. Every aionian on the ship would have recognized it immediately. They were looking at an ancient but precise map of Valkyrie.

For a moment, they stared at the page in silence.

Gideon looked up at Takomi. “What does this mean?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Aren’t there any words in this book at all?”

He turned the page again, and nearly jumped back.

The image was of a savannah dotted by twisting trees. To one side, a walled city stood on a hill looking over the plain. People were streaming out of the gate and looking up. In the sky, the sun glinted off the golden hulls of three strange-looking vessels.

“What is that?” said Takomi in a hoarse whisper. “Are those...”

“Spaceships.” Gideon’s mouth remained wide open as he studied the angular bodies of the craft. Despite their odd appearance, and the fact that they were completely out of place, there was no mistaking what they were. The huge ships hovered over the scene as if they were preparing to touch down on the plain.

Takomi elbowed him, waking him from his stupor. “What’s on the next page?”

He pulled back the page, as if he expected a snake to jump out of the book. The next painting depicted one of the ships suspended above the earth. A broad ramp led from the hull to the ground below. Lean, dark-skinned people gathered to watch three tall figures clad in golden armor step out of the spaceship.

Notwithstanding their immense height, the beings had human proportions. Each one wore a different mask; a jackal, a falcon, and what could have been the Egyptian god Ra. The latter figure held up its hand, and in its palm was the symbol of the arcs that formed a person.

“What is this?” asked Gideon.

Takomi was breathing rapidly. “It looks like the book is trying to tell us that the Egyptian gods were actually aliens.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Well, what else could it be? I’m not saying that the book is right, but that’s what it’s trying to say. And don’t forget we saw Valkyrie on the other page.”

Takomi reached over him and turned the next page. The scene was similar to the previous one, but instead of a savannah, the ships were in a clearing surrounded by lush forests. Stepped pyramids rose from the trees in the background, and in the foreground, three of the aliens stood in front of their ship, wearing different headdresses. On the left stood an anthropomorphic jaguar, on the right a tropical bird, and in the center, the face of a serpent ringed with feathers. The humans that had come out to greet or worship them were shorter and stockier than the villagers on the previous page.

Takomi’s face was inches above the page. “I suppose these are Mayans? Maybe Olmec?”

Gideon took a step back from the desk. “Why does my dad have a book about aliens pretending to be gods? What the hell is going on here?”

“That’s what I was about to say.” The new voice made both Gideon and Takomi jump. They looked up to see Commander Devereux scowling at them in the doorway.

“Commander,” said Gideon, nearly stuttering, “we... um…”

Devereux strode forward and reached over the desk, slamming the book shut. “Suits off. Now.”

They took off their suits faster than they ever had in training. Devereux picked up the book and walked over to the shelf, putting it back in its place among the other volumes.

“Leave the suits and come with me.” The commander didn’t wait for them to respond before he marched out the door.

Gideon looked at Takomi, who was as wide-eyed and pale as he felt. He swallowed hard, then the two of them scrambled to catch up to Devereux.

W
ITH
EACH
NEW
barrage, the shield dome above the transportation hub sizzled and cracked. It wouldn’t be long before the shields would fail and a rain of metal and plasma would turn this part of the world into a sea of glass. Tloltan came to a portal with an archway ten times wider than any other along the alley. The words “Orbital Delivery” were written over it, and as she passed through, the air became hot and thick. The archway opened up into a vast cavern lit by thousands of points of light embedded in the granite ceiling. The effect had given the delivery area the nickname Starry Cavern generations ago. She was now deep below the mountains at the planet’s equator.
 

Monstrous machines stretched away from the portal in rows until they disappeared into the distance. They each gave off an electric hum due to the vast stores of energy they possessed, fed by the heat of the planet’s core. Dozens of tubes extended out from each machine at a steep angle up into the roof of the cavern.

Over the hum of the machines came the dull roar of thousands of voices — tens of thousands — coming from the Luzariai that had gathered here from each corner of the globe. Young and old, male and female, dozens of dialects, cultures, and customs. A cross-section of the entirety of the Luzariai race.

The voices closest to Tloltan went quiet as she entered, and like the ripples in the pond, the silence spread throughout the crowd until the only sound was the hum of the machines. The crowd parted around Tloltan as she moved through it, their eyes frightened. She had to put on a brave face for their sake, but it was all she could do to keep from breaking down. If only she could spend a little time getting to know each one of them, learn their names, learn about their family, and most of all, learn why they had volunteered.

A full legion of Koramoa Warriors formed a square in the center of the cavern. Though their golden armor was an imitation of true Koramoa Armor, it was still breathtaking to behold an entire legion of warriors in formation, each regiment with its own symbolic headdress depicting one of the ancient gods.

The crowd parted as Tloltan faced the rows of warriors. The Koramoa Warriors turned in unison to face her, then slammed their fists to their chests in salute. The sight of them lifted her spirits, and she returned the salute. Their arms came back down to their sides, and the cave was once again silent in anticipation.

A small platform sat on the ground in front of the formation, and Tloltan stepped onto it. The platform rose into the air above the crowd, and Tloltan rotated slowly, not only to look at them, but also to be seen.

You’re going to need my help if you want them to hear you.

Tloltan waited, allowing them to see her as one of them a moment longer. When she’d looked upon the entirety of the volunteers, her gaze fell again upon the rows of Koramoa below her. Each one looked up at her with anticipation, and with a thought, she gave the command.

Heat filled the golden bracer on her wrist, and it unfolded rapidly in a cascade of gold. The living metal ran up her arm, across her chest, then over the rest of her body. As it covered her head, it formed into the iconic headdress of Koramoa Tloltan, a terrifying mask with a demonic face baring its pointed teeth.

The Koramoa Warriors assembled before her shouted in salute to their leader. The masses cheered, their roar echoing through the chamber, and the atmosphere changed instantly from one of fear to that of defiance. Tloltan gave them a few more seconds, then raised her hands over her head. The cheers died away, replaced by a tense silence.

“Luzariai.” Her golden armor both distorted and amplified her voice so that it was clearly heard at the far end of the cavern. “We stand before the precipice with nothing but an awful choice. I won’t shame you by asking you to be brave, because you have already proven your courage. It is my great honor to stand here this day, before the gates to eternity, among the greatest generation of Luzariai. You already have my respect, but more than this, you will save countless worlds. We may be a defeated people, but even in defeat we defy our enemies.”

An eruption of applause echoed through the cavern. It was a short speech, but there was no time for anything more elaborate. Tloltan raised her fist in the air as she looked upon the faces in the crowd, wishing that she could somehow etch them all into her memory. More than anything, she wished she could promise them they would succeed, but they all knew the odds. It would only serve to remind them that they weren’t going to survive.

A Koramoa Warrior waited on the ground as she came back down. “Koramoa Tloltan, we’re ready on your command.”

“Thank you, Captain Neeza. Have your soldiers move into position and inform me the moment we’re ready to commence.”

The captain saluted, and turned to execute Tloltan’s orders. Every Luzariai in the cavern moved to their positions at the machines.

The Orbital Defense Corps is in position. They’ll hold out as long as they can.

Tloltan made a mental response and gave her instructions. She looked up to see two Koramoa Warriors standing at attention in front of her. The taller one was named Ukte, and he wore the headdress of an ancient bird god, with sharp eyes and a sharper beak. The other, a fierce young warrior named Itzau, wore a headdress depicting a draconic elder god covered in scales, with a long snout and rows of sharp teeth. They were her two best soldiers, hand-picked to accompany her. Itzau saluted with a fist to her chest. “Your ship’s components are ready for launch, Koramoa Tloltan.”

“Very good. Let’s move.” She waved for them to follow, and the three of them marched to the appropriate machine. Massive doors were opening on each of the machines to reveal racks of large, bullet-shaped pods. The Koramoa Warriors posted at each machine helped the Luzariai climb into the pods through a round hatch at the bottom. This first group would probably only last a few minutes. The bravest of the brave.

The voice of her captain sounded in her ear. “Koramoa Tloltan, we’re ready for the first wave.”

The Orbital Defense is also ready.

“All right, Captain,” said Tloltan. “Send the first wave. After that, launch continually as pods go online. We can’t let up for even an instant. I leave Starry Caverns in your hands.”

The captain confirmed and signed off. Soon after, the sound of the machines changed from a low hum to a high-pitched whirring sound, and the first pods were away. Magnets accelerated the pods up through the roof of the canyon, through twelve kilometers of solid rock, and out the peaks of the equatorial mountains. They’d blast out of the tube through the thin alpine air and enter orbit moments after that.

A Koramoa Warrior stood next to a set of special pods, waiting for Tloltan. As she approached, the warrior saluted and turned to open the pod doors. Superficially, these pods looked the same as the others being loaded into the tubes, but on closer inspection, they were slightly larger, longer, and filled with instrumentation.
 

Tloltan walked up to her pod, stepped over the edge, and lowered herself down into a chair. A harness system unfolded around her body and strapped her in as her two companions entered their own pods. The attending Koramoa waited patiently by the launch controls.