D'Mok Revival 1: Awakening (11 page)

She held out her hand, and activated the motion-sensing device integrated into the choker around her neck. A holographic cube appeared. She rolled it like dice in her hands before tossing it up. The cube burst, forming an interface into her computer system. In an instant, she was diving into the Terconian Network. Though, she really should pack, she thought.

But before that, she just
had
to let her former professor know she’d finally found a job. He’d been so worried about her, and now she could spring the news on him that he didn’t need to fret anymore.

The news would be bittersweet, she knew. Ever since she’d discovered that strange anomaly—that elusive beam of negative energy—she’d been using her plentiful free time to help him track the beam’s origins.

“But now, at least I have a job,” she hummed while she worked to create the connection.

An alert popped up. Specific blogs began appearing, with key phrases highlighted.

“No, no,
no
,” she whispered, as her trembling fingers moved across the holographic keyboard, initiating additional information queries. Results scrolled by. Her fox-ears twitched as she read, and gasped.

“Professor Francis Xabier Missing? This can’t be!”

She kept doing searches, but all said the same thing. Her beloved professor had vanished, and under unusual circumstances.

Muttering the words of one blog aloud, she read, “The authorities are investigating the case as a kidnapping and possible homicide.
Homicide?
” she shrieked, her heart racing.

“It
has
to be something to do with that beam,” she moaned to the empty room. She’d seen that odd beam plain as day. A shadowy line of energy emanated from the ground in a back alley of the Murai Dome, and shot straight through it, into space. She told a couple of her classmates, but no one else could see the beam. The professor couldn’t see it either, but he still believed her, though he was the only one.

She knew then something wasn’t right, not just with the strange energy, but with her. Why could she see it when no one else could?

After a few months of work, they found a frequency that made it mechanically detectable. The professor was going to do more research—“Talk to a few friends,” he’d said.

Maybe he talked to the wrong friends,
she thought, riddled with guilt.
Maybe whoever’s broadcasting the beam tracked him down instead?

She bit on her lip, then whispered, “I have to help him.”

A sudden shock of fear ran through her. She was the one who found the beam in the first place. And she’d blabbed about it to other students. What if
they
came for her next?

Suddenly paranoid, she jerked her head, listening. The cooling fans inside her computer systems whirred. The annoying high-pitched squeal from the holographic unit still needed fixing. Otherwise, nothing seemed out of sync in her tiny apartment.

“Steady girl,” she whispered, and turned back to her system. Moving in a blur, she scanned for viruses, network taps or system hacks that could be monitoring her.

Again, nothing. Maybe she was safe . . . for the moment. But if someone took the professor because of that beam, it wouldn’t be long before they discovered the link to her. Until Rhysus Mencari showed up to take her away from here, she had to do something, and fast.

She whirled around in her chair and yelled out, “Spark, come!”

Within seconds, a metallic clanking pinged down the hallway, preceding the mechanical dog that appeared seconds later. She smiled at the happy yellow shine coming from the dog’s visor, and called out, “Here, boy!”

Spark trotted to her side and wagged his tail, then stood on its hind legs and gently pawed the air.

“Who’s a good boy?” she crooned, but then remembered the seriousness of the moment. “Spark . . . Initiate protocol thirty-two hundred.”

Spark began to jump up and down, reaching high into the air as if trying to catch some imaginary bird.

“NO!” she cried. “Not Twirly-bird Dancerie!”

The robot stopped and tilted its head sadly, waiting for a new command. She took a deep breath, then called out, “Spark . . . protocol three-two-zero-zero, activate.”

She held her breath while Spark’s visor flashed a faint yellow. A hatch opened on his back, revealing a tiny scanner which twirled as it rose above him. He walked to the wall and began patrolling the apartment’s perimeter walls. A new holographic display appeared next to Toriko, already visualizing telemetry data. She sighed, relieved, and turned back to her displays, hoping the security features she’d built into Spark’s processor were more accurate than his voice-recognition feature.

While he scanned her tiny space, she began typing feverishly to her online friends, her fellow gamers. She had to tell them goodbye anyway, without revealing where she was going—wherever that was. But more importantly, they could help her confirm the horrible news she’d just heard. And much more. She just couldn’t leave without at least
trying
to find the professor.

As she typed, she mumbled, “And if my new boss can’t accept that, then . . .”

She stopped typing and laid her head in her hands. “No. I
need
this job. Professor FX would be so-so mad at me if I don’t take it. Oh, what do I
do
?”

* * * * *

“Finally,” Mencari said as Toriko’s homeworld of Tericn came into view. He was also getting the hang of Osuto’s commercial-class ship. It was much older, far slower, and less responsive than the Coalition vessels he was used to, but it did the job. In fact, it felt like flying a tank in space.

Following the approach beacons, he guided the ship down. As the ship zipped through the atmosphere, the barren landscape below surprised him. Nothing. There was no indication of life in any direction. Had it not been for the communication signals and landing directives, he’d swear he’d arrived at the wrong planet. The environmental readings were all askew. Temperatures were hotter, and the air quality unusually thin and polluted. A normal human may even need to don an environmental suit to tolerate such a climate.

What a horrible place. He wondered if it had always been so desolate.

As he got closer to the surface, he started to make out deep track marks in the crusty dirt. They grew numerous, leading towards a great pit in the ground. It looked like a strip-mining operation. Great conveyor belts, and vehicles filled with plundered material swarmed with activity. The metallic shine from those skittering about were either from protective suits, or a small army of robots. Suddenly the planet's likely sad history spun through his mind.

Finally, as he skimmed farther along the directed route, a great dome appeared on the horizon. The display before him illuminated with a more detailed image and the name “Maurai Dome.”

Saying it was mammoth was an understatement. It was easily hundreds of miles across. Beneath the glassy surface stood clusters of towering structures, separated by beautiful forests and lakes. It reminded him of a huge greenhouse and, from the looks of the surroundings, was the only way that life could sustain itself on this planet.

Aligning with the landing beacons, he guided the ship towards an opening in the dome. Like a beehive, other crafts swooped in and out. Some hovered angrily, defending the entrance with overtly displayed energy cannons. He wondered, with so little around the dome, why they’d need such protection.

Passing through, he followed track lighting to a personal pad. After securing the ship, he sent a quick message to Osuto reporting his arrival, and headed out the airlock. A giant, holographic sign said “Welcome from Bansa!” He quickly noticed the name was plastered everywhere. “Powered by Bansa.” “Brought to you by Bansa.” It seemed plastered on every gadget and panel around him.

A multitude of locals swarmed about, each eyeing him uncomfortably up as they passed. He wasn’t used to being such a spectacle. As an alien on the Trading Post it was easy, since countless races were represented. But biodiversity didn’t appear to be this world’s strong suite.

At least Terconians looked somewhat close to humans, albeit a bit puffier, with broader faces and wider eyes. And some sported variations in skin patterns, resembling stripes or patches. Oddly enough, everyone seemed to have some type of cyberware component installed into their body, too. Eye patches appeared common, while others had augmented limbs, or robotic assistants on their shoulders. Funny, but he didn’t recall Toriko having any.

Speaking of Toriko, where was she? From their previous conversion, he expected she would be waiting for him in the arrival area.

A small sign, a hologram really, caught his eye. “Rhysus Mencari?” it flashed. Visually following the chat bubble-like projection downward, it emanated from a small robotic dog. He grinned at the primitive contraption. Compared to the high-tech appearance of everything else around him, including the cyber-implants, the dog appeared downright crude. Regardless, it had a certain charm to it.

“Excuse me,” he said, approaching cautiously. “That’s me.”

The dog tilted its head curiously. Two light beams radiated from its visor, sweeping across Mencari. In moments, the dog nodded, and a small holographic projection of Toriko appeared.

“Mr. Mencari!” she said with a mixture of alarm and pleasure. “Thank you so much for coming to pick me up. But I’m so sorry, and you probably won't believe me, but my professor friend and I discovered these aliens that took over the Bansa Corporation--the same place that recruited my sister. Now he's been kidnapped, and . . .”

Her projection suddenly froze in place, and grew pixelated. A digital whimper escaped the robotic dog. It pawed at its head, but couldn’t reach the emitter. Gently, Mencari reached over and tapped the area near where the hologram projected. The image sharpened, and continued to play.

“I think I'm next! I'm safe with friends. But I have to find the Professor FX! And help my sister get out, too. I'm so sorry! I totally understand if you think this is crazy and want to go—or you can wait! Though, I don’t know how long it will take. But I
have
to do this first. Just tell Spark what you decide you want to do. I totally understand either way. Sorry again!"

Who’s this professor?
he wondered. Toriko never mentioned him, let alone anything about a sister and trouble she might be in. And what was this alien take-over business all about? Maybe he should have gone with his gut when he thought something seemed a bit off about a brilliant techie who was so readily available. Maybe there was a mental instability issue. Or did she think this was some sort of funny prank to play on him? Either way . . .

Then again, who would believe him about the Nukari? What if Bansa, especially given its pivotal role in Terconian society,
had
been compromised by aliens like the Nukari? Or
by
the Nukari?

Even if the Nukari weren’t involved, there could be far-reaching implications of Tericn under an alien influence. Mencari sighed, as the robotic dog waited patiently.

What was it Toriko said to do? Just tell “Spark” what I wanted to do? That must be the dog’s name?

“Spark,” he said. The dog instantly sat at attention, wagging its stubby metal tail. “Take me to Toriko.”

After a quick digital bark, Spark swirled around and dashed to a station where small self-transportation vehicles waited. The dog jumped in one and waited. A bit puzzled, Mencari climbed in also and took a seat. Symbols began streaming across its visor, the same symbols which then appeared on the control console ahead of Spark. The vehicle lurched then darted off at high speed, shooting out the station and into the open air of the dome. The craft zoomed in-and-out of oncoming ships headed into the station. After a few near collisions, Mencari wondered if the dog was actually programmed to fly or if had just commandeered the nearest transport option.

After hastily dodging around one ship, a much larger vessel now barreled directly at them. The dog let out a bark, that sounded more like a surprised yip. Mencari had to clutch his seat to keep from toppling at the right-angle change in direction. Once safe, his hands groped for a seatbelt or other restraining device. Finding none, he simply clawed his hands into the seat.

He sighed in relief as their transport moved out of the main docking lanes. However, his tension returned when the vehicle suddenly rolled up vertically and dove at the ground. Panic subsided only when a small hatch, barely large enough for their craft, opened. Sparks flew as the wing tip grazed the tunnel wall. It was snug, but they at least fit. Though, it was so dark. He hoped the robot had night vision equipped.

Within moments they slowed, before stopping at a rudimentary docking port. Ancient lights flickered to life above them. Mencari saw what resembled an abandoned sub-way station. Dusty benches sat waiting for passengers long since gone. Multiple tunnels appeared to span in every direction, disappearing into the darkness. It certainly was creepy, and very quiet. Only the hum of ventilation droned ambiently about them. He had no idea where the dog had taken him. Once again, he mentally lectured himself about brash decisions.

The dog bounded out, then ran into a dead-end. Following behind, Mencari thought perhaps the canine robot had misunderstood, or had, in fact, really blown a circuit. But before he could say anything, a small beam shot out from Spark’s visor, striking a hidden sensor on the wall. A sizable panel pulled in, then disappeared into a track revealing an access tunnel.