The Prophet (Part One)- by Shelter
Background Information: (Happens sometime in between the movie) this story takes place on Sehhar, home to an ethnic human minority. Pursued by the Drej, the crew of the Valkyrie is forced to land on this forested planet to regroup, but they are greeted with a mixture of suspicion and fear by the humans living there. When the Drej arrive and begin a sinister episode of ethnic cleansing, the humans are forced to flee into the mountains.
ALL AROUND there was silence.
This noise was alien to Akima; for all her years, she had loved the blasting percussion of music, and the rasps of engines as they burst forth into space. This was not human, the silence, it symbolised something else. The fact that she was around thousands but it was still and silent, symbolized something. Reflection maybe, she thought. Or mourning?
This community of humans had sought refuge in the mountains. Here, the air was thin. Akima had found out that she had trouble catching her breath. But it was comfort compared to the fate that awaited them in the broad, grassy plains of Sehhar: death. The Drej had butchered the human's alien allies; she could remember clearly the first time she had set foot on this planet. Suspicion, hate and rejection. Now, the humans had blamed them for their suffering.
Humans blaming humans, the thought went through her head.
The traditions of these humans she had met we unlike any other. They were warriors; Cale had said that they carried potential to help them in their fight against the Drej, but the harnessing this energy was the problem. Despite their malevolent eyes and hard stares, the watching crowd parted as she walked through the path leading to the cave where Cale had been held.
Bordered by columns of granite, the cave was well sheltered. It broke into a gentle slope as it descended, eventually emptying itself into a deep valley that cut through the mountains. On this mild slope, massed thousands of men, lying prostrate on the rocks, mumbling to God in their foreign language. The gathering would have been a spectacle for Drej aircraft, but a thick canopy of scrub and trees kept their position a secret. How they pray for him, Akima thought. Yet they still refuse to believe.
Before she entered the darkened cave, Akima felt eyes upon her, their gaze like lasers burning her skin. She spun around, right hand on her blaster, only to meet the eyes of Korso and Preed. They were with their followers; since Cale passed out, they had been meeting in secret, gathering men who believed more in them than in the possible saviour of humanity. She sensed treachery.
Korso, a smirk on his face, gave her a sarcastic wave. A terrible thought crossed her mind: would they dare? Her hands balled themselves into fists, returning Korso's glare. If they try, her hand caressed her blaster, comforting her.
"Akima?"
Akima realised that Kadesh had been waiting at the mouth of the cave for her. Somehow, the marks of green on his face reassured her. He nodded in question, as if asking her to enter. "Yes, I am ready," she replied. A burning torch in his hand, they proceeded into the cave.
The first thing Akima felt was the cold darkness. They reminded her of the Drej: merciless, ruthless creatures who had chased them to the ends of the galaxy just to exterminate their kind. Now, they were in the lowlands of Sehhar, building themselves up for the final battle. But the humans were still torn by their differences and suspicion. The goal is to be unified, she thought. Only then can we defeat them.
Kadesh led her to a door, guarded by two men, who had the same marks on the face as he had. They bowed in respect to Akima and their leader, stepping aside for Kadesh to open the door. There, covered by a blanket and unconscious on a slab of stone, was Cale, humanity's last hope. The candles surrounding him illuminated the cavern, and her friends' faces.
"Stith," Akima murmured.
The tall Mantrin got to her feet. "Akima."
"Has he awaken or shown any signs of life?" asked Akima.
"He has been like this for the last week," Stith reported. "But I assure you he's still alive."
Kadesh, not wanting to intrude, stepped outside.
"I'm sorry, I've got to tell you this but." Stith stammered. "There have been rumours."
Akima turned to her friend. "What rumours?"
"Some of the people are calling for his cremation, I strongly think that Korso and Preed have encouraged them. And the worse thing is, there's been a general agreement. Many think we are keeping a corpse in our possession."
Akima couldn't help the anger show on her face. By opposing Cale, Korso had openly challenged him. In all these matters of loyalty and the question of Cale's life, she was helpless; after all the time they had together, Cale was unconscious and she couldn't do anything about it. This was a situation that the humans' God was involved in. Now even her crew were turning away from her. The mere thought of it made her want to turn her own blaster on herself. Cale was fighting his own battle here, but he needed help, and she couldn't give it to him. Her right hand clenched into a fist, and gripped the sides of the blanket like a vice.
Taking a deep breath, she suppressed this anger. "Are there many who have decided against this?"
"Some have, but they are outnumbered. Others are undecided, but the Sharqikah disagree, of course. They think he is in a trance" Stith told her.
The Sharqikah, religious fanatics for God! Akima reminded herself of their undying belief in the reunification of the human race. There might be hope yet.
Akima moved towards her companion; he seemed peaceful in his slumber, eyes closed, hands relaxed. Only his breath was abnormal: short bursts that ceased now and then. His hair was pushed back to reveal the Sharqikah markings on his forehead. He was totally unaware of his surroundings, relying on others to sustain him. Yet Stith said it was impossible to get him to eat or drink. She cast a glance at the man she loved: she was thinner, and weak. His face, once so full of life and laughter, had retreated, sunken and bony. Whatever had caused him to pass out was clearly taking its toll on him.
She moved to his face, caressing his sides with her hands. Normally, Cale would respond to her touch. Moving her fingers across his nostrils, feeling the minute gusts of air against her skin. He was breathing; but for how long without food and water? As she neared, she drew herself face down to his lips, massaging them with her tongue, spreading the dampness of her mouth over his. With her fingers she spread that dampness across his lips, hoping for a result.
For a moment, she thought she saw movement. But it turned out to be nothing, Hopes dashed, she started to get up. Movement again! This time Akima was sure of it. She bent down towards Cale's mouth. To her amazement, she could hear something. Very softly, barely escaping the detection of a human's sense of hearing, Cale was mumbling, very fast. So fast that it seemed like his lips weren't moving at all.
She recoiled slightly. Stith could see the glimmer in her face, and she advanced. Their eyes met; hope and excitement.
"What is it?" Stith asked.
Akima's face brightened, but she kept her solemn tone. "The Sharqikah are right. Cale is in a trance, a critical mystic revelation: The Dreamtime."
Obeying orders, Kadesh and the two guards outside had entered. Akima had discussed it with them, and they had agreed to wake Cale from his dream. There was one way, the dangerous way.
"To wake him we must sever the circulation of blood to his mind. The mind powers the spirit, which desires to be holy. We have only one chance at this," Kadesh instructed his men to press down hard on his nose while he locked his fingers into a clump of skin on the neck, cutting off the arteries leading to the brain. He looked uncertainly to Akima. "But he can die if we try. If he doesn't awake, he will be guilty for the murder of an innocent man. You must be with him all this while; he longs for you in his spirituality. Be with him in his mind."
Once Kadesh begun this threatening process, there was no turning back. For a whole two minutes, Cale showed no signs of life. The guards were worried, only comforted by Kadesh and his orders for them to continue. Akima, fearing for his life, had held him by his hand, her touch the thread between life and death.
Soon, Cale's face slowly turned pale, the blood draining from it, yet he still remained in his sleep. Stith and Akima were looking on; even Kadesh seemed uneasy. As the five minutes drew near, Kadesh was ready to release his hold. Akima restrained him.
"If we go on, he may die," he insisted.
"No, he will wake up."
Akima tightened her grip. Cale, come on , wake up, she played those words over and over in her brain. You must fight the trance, reject the spirit and fee yourself. Your place is here as humanity's saviour. Akima was alerted to a sudden blinking of Cale's eyes - yes, fight the trance, Cale, she battled on in her mind, fight it - his lips had begun to move, and his nostrils inflated to breath the air - a little bit more; come on, do it for the people you're going to save from eternal death - his hands were jerking uncontrollably, mouth forcing itself to open - Kadesh and his men could sense success as the movement of his eyes grew faster - do it for the one person you love - at that moment, Cale awoke with a gasp of air surging into his lungs. Kadesh and his men released their tight grips, and the blood flowed back into Cale's mind.
He blinked his eyes open, his lungs still straining for air as he breathed rapidly. Akima stared into his deep almond eyes, parting his blonde hair with her fingers. Cale, recovering from the trance he was in, stared back. Finally he gathered enough strength to raise his hand and run it across Akima's luscious purple bangs.
"Cale, you're still alive," she mumbled to him.
"Where am I?" he asked, trying to get up. "I thought I was outside just a few minutes ago."
Kadesh and his men exited the room again. "You were in a mystic trance, the Dreamtime."
Cale grinned, his eyes seemed bleached by colour, adjusting to the dim intensity of light; he massaged his forehead with his hand, and sat bolt upright. "Yeah, it was the best thing that I have ever seen." He took Akima's outstretched hands and gripped them.
For a moment, Akima thought she was in a trance too. Her whole world, the surroundings, the cavern they wee in, fell away, washed by an invisible force. She was now standing on a mountain peak, overlooking the vast plains of Sehhar, Cale by her side. The green landscape rolled as far as her eyes could see them, a green mass of dispersed trees spreading across a massive expanse of land.
"I have seen things that no human, no living creature has seen before," Cale told her, caressing her face. "I have experienced these things as if they have happened to me, and have endured the happiness and the pain of these experiences. See the plains of Sehhar, this is the future of the human race on this planet."
"You have seen the future."
"No, I have seen the universe."
Akima turned to Cale. He was so much unlike the Cale she once knew. Had she lost him in that trance, only to gain someone more affectionate, or someone more cold?
The plains that darkened, like a great night befalling it. A flash, and the plains, once so green and inviting, were bathed in blood. Human corpses were everywhere, piled one on top of each other, spreading over the land like a gruesome red carpet. She had only seen this ghastly image once: in a school textbook, when Hitler slaughtered the Jews. But this was a bigger holocaust. The bodies filled the plains, overflowing, spilling out into the rivers and lakes. Blood washed over the land like rain, bleaching the rivers and painting the trees and mountains red. There were screams: human screams, and cries of agony.
"There is a God," Cale said. "Who never slumbers or sleeps. He has power over all, and he is holy and pure. He has but to turn his eye down on the universe, and his creation will be washed away and destroyed by his wrath. He is a zealous God, acknowledges those who fear him and spurns those who call themselves his enemies. He is always a strength to the weary and a comforter to the meek. There is only one God, and I am his messenger."
The scene of blood and bloodshed continued. It had infested Akima's mind to a point where she could take no more. Every nerve in her body was burning, straining to implode and break. Her mind was boiling, screaming for the torture to cease. She fell to her knees. Cale, cold and unmoving, looked down upon her.
"You are the one the humans of Sehhar call to rescue them," Akima groaned. "Please Cale, make this stop."
"No, Akima. I am more than just a legend. I am the fulcrum, the giver and the taker. The bridge that divides universe and time, the border that hangs between the life and death. There is only one messenger, and I am the one."
"Akima?"
Like a dream, Akima awoke, Stith gently jabbing her with her arms. She stared at her surroundings, she was back in the cavern again: the candles surrounding her, the stone slab and Cale, sitting upright.
"Akima, are you okay?" Stith asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine," she got up. "We must tell the others that Cale has awaken."
Cale touched her arm gently. "No, I'll do it," he requested, his voice firm and steady. Akima couldn't avoid his piercing stare as he put on his shirt. "Hold my hand, Akima," he said. "Now you know."
"Captain, do you ever contemplate the fact that Cale will eventually wake up from his 'trance'?" Preed asked. At once, Korso shot a glance at him, eyes narrowed, fists clenched.
"Why do you ask?" he questioned his Akrennian comrade. He should've known the answer by inferring from that pathetic look on Preed's face. But this war was all about support; Korso could afford to lose one devoted supporter at this stage. "Do you doubt my good faith?"
Preed slunk back into the cliff wall. "Of course not, Captain. I was just thinking whether our move to oppose him will really keep us alive."
Korso massaged his chin; he felt along the soft hairs of his beard, running up to the sides of his chin. His eyes picked out a group of young boys in the front row of the praying swarm of people, their faces decorated with markings. Sharqikah, he thought to himself. They are the pack of wolves we must exterminate. If it wasn't for that fool Cale rescuing their leader from the Drej attack, we wouldn't have to deal with them. Dangerous; they'll gladly give their lives for Cale, only to find out that he's merely a fraud. Poor souls.
"Everything's in control, my friend," Korso smirked smugly. "That stimulant I slipped into Cale's food will increase his metabolism rate tenfold. With each passing day, he drains out a fraction of his own body weight, while his body still hungers for more food. He'll die eventually, I find it impossible for someone to survive. And then."
Korso crashed his fist against the rock wall on his side, setting loose some stone fragments into the plunging chasm below. His fist had left a lasting impact, a small crater in the hard rock walls.
".The Drej attack?" Preed guessed.
"Yeah. Once we notify them that Cale's out of the picture, the human community here will be crippled, lost and leaderless. If it's necessary, I'll assume Cale's command first, and then I'll have all the support I need if the Drej play us out." Korso said confidently, although he shuddered at the thought.
"How about.?" Preed jerked his head in the direction of their followers, a handful bunch that had rallied behind the two of them.
"We'll give them the same fates as Akima and Stith," he sniggered, eyes flickering malevolently. "Death."
"My, Captain, you really did your homework, didn't you" Preed replied, a thin smile on his face to commend his Captain.
"If everything goes well, we'll alert the Drej tonight," Korso informed. "They're still in the cities. The darkness will give us enough cover to get away. As long as the Drej destroy every single human on this planet, the Queen has given us her word that she'll spare us, and soon we'll be rich beyond your wildest dreams,"
Preed nodded in reply. The men who had foolishly pledged their support to them hadn't heard a thing, as they continued their ignorant existence of forever discussing among themselves. Korso produced a flask of water from his back, then took a large swig of it. He kept his gaze focused on Preed. Scumbag, he thought. He thinks I don't know that his Akrennian friends will be waiting for me once this mission's complete. Gullible fools. They should've known better than to help the Drej in their conquest. By the time they come to find me for help, it'll be too late. I'll be light years away and rich. All they'll find is a small token of my appreciation - their friend's body.
Korso had hardly finished his dose of water when his attention was momentarily distracted by something stirring from the extreme right corner of his eye. Someone was walking out of the cave. To his horror, he turned to see Cale, flanked by Stith and Akima, fully recovered from his stupour. The masses praying on the slope stopped their actions and got to their feet. The air was filled with the shuffling of feet; shortly after, a deafening silence encompassed them. Korso looked around; everyone, even Preed and their men, had gotten to their feet.
Cale surveyed the huge gathering of people, humans, with his eyes. They had been praying for me, and indeed God has answered their prayers, he thought. Now I have to lead them.
"The Drej have massed their destructive forces in the plains of Sehhar bordered by the two twin valleys," Cale told them. "They have strengthened themselves with an armada of Akrennian weaponry and armament. In the space above us resides the Drej Queen and her ship; they dare not destroy the planet with her Drej minions on it. She will descend from her throne in a few days' time, arriving on Sehharian soil to witness her Drej triumph before she incinerates this world. The Akrennians are with them."
Damn, he knows, thought Korso, his glance meeting Preed's troubled stare. Our plan is useless now that he is in control. But I may seize power from him and guide these foolhardy humans to their doom yet. I must act as if I didn't know a clue what's been going on.
"But how do you know?" Korso asked Cale aloud. The hundreds of people turned their gaze to him. "We have yet to be informed by our spies. And you were asleep."
"Not asleep," Cale rasped. "But having a vision."
"Cale has experienced the mystic Dreamtime," Akima informed the people. Immediately, an uneasy muttering of voices replaced the absolute silence. It was hard to believe a foreigner had received visions from God.
"Is that true?" demanded Korso.
Stith nodded clearly so that everyone could see. "I have been at his side for seven days. He has been in a religious trance."
"MARIZIAH!"
Cale scanned the crowd again. Mariziah, the receiver of God's strength, he thought. Who has called me the strengthened of God?
"Mariziah!" screamed the voice. It was Kadesh; no one else spoke, so his voice travelled to Cale easily. "You are our lamp in the darkness! You are the prophet sent by God to deliver us! You must be our leader when we lead our jihad against the Drej."
"You must put down all those who oppose your righteousness," screamed someone in the crowd.
The crowd's attention turned back again to Korso, who was alone now. Preed and his men were hiding in the shadows, abandoning their leader. Looking around, Korso realised he had chosen a bad time to defy the fanatical Sharqikah and Cale. Head held high, he faced the angry mob.
"You must not have any opposition when you lead us in jihad!" Kadesh hollered. "You must prove that you are the prophet sent by God and rejected by no one else!"
Cale turned his head sideways, wishing to speak only to Akima. "Has Korso openly declared his opposition?" he asked.
"Yeah, and I don't like the look on his face," went Akima.
"Me either," added Stith.
Cale elevated his right hand, silencing the crowd, addressing his question directly at Korso. "Korso, my comrade and friend, do you oppose me and doubt my wisdom?"
Korso found his mouth failing to respond to his mind. Sweat trickled down his forehead and across his crossed arms; he knew that if he said yes, the Sharqikah would lunge upon him and tear him into pieces. Yet, if he denied his wrong, the Sharqikah would still denounce him. No matter which way he turned, death would be waiting stealthily at the end of his sentence. He was in a real jam now; all the Drejs' plans, his dreams of a life of luxury and wealth seemed to be ruined, fading before his eyes. What a fool I've been, he blamed himself in his mind. How I underestimated you Cale!
"He doesn't answer," Cale declared. "Is it because you fear me?"
Before he could control himself, Korso had gotten to his knees, slowly acknowledging with a nod as an answer.
"HE LIES!" someone screamed.
There were scattered shouts of agreement in the crowd.
"I am your leader, I'll decide who is telling the truth," Cale told them.
"God decides and we decide!" lifted an angry voice.
"So that is the bottomline, eh?"
"It is the law, and the law cannot be broken!" shouted someone else angrily.
Cale looked at Korso again. Here I have my mentor, my Captain, and he is submitting to me. Should I kill him because he is my enemy, or because I need the support of these people? How powerful have I really become?
"Surely Mariziah can see through the deception!" shouted another.
"ENOUGH!" Cale commanded. "I AM THE LAW!"
At his order, the crowd stilled, silenced.
"Do you wish me to kill someone I know?" he demanded. "Do you wish me to murder a close comrade just so you can have a spectacle of my power and authority?"
"It is God's sign to us," someone muttered.
"And how is this sign interpreted?" he raised his voice, shouting to all those before him. "By the blood of a human who is our brother? By the murder of a capable fighter for the cause? We are fighting with jihad, the highest honour among all you fighters out there! And before that honour is bestowed would you kill your friend to prove your superiority? Would you burn your homes as a testament to a God that you claim stands by your side through your sins?"
"If I am the Mariziah as you claim me to be, then no person can against me. Must God prove this to you by shedding the blood of his loyal soldiers? This man you charge with rebellion is a fighter - and so are every single one of you. Must we create internal disunity among our brothers to seek a sign from God? Have you not seen enough humans killing other humans to satisfy your lust for blood?" Cale questioned. "Korso is a fighter, a soldier, a servant - for God, and he will be with us in our jihad, whether or not he is a traitor or not!"
"God's fighters do not accept traitors," went a voice, and there was a murmur of agreement once more.
"What is our goal?" Cale asked them. "To defeat the Drej, smite the Akrennian adversaries that defy us, and take control of the homeworld you have lived upon since the destruction of Earth."
"The Mariziah sees the truth!"
"And does this jihad include the killing of our human brothers?"
Cale had struck a point. The crowd, once rowdy and fierce, had become silent again, not a sound coming from them.
"You say I am the Mariziah, ordained by God as his prophet to lead humanity," Cale said. He took his father's gold ring out of his back pocket and slipped in onto his middle finger. He thrust his hand into the air; the gold ring shimmered as the bloody glow of a setting sun reflected its rays off it. Like a beacon, it was shone brightly to everyone. "I say I am humanity's only hope! With this ring, I have the power to create the paradise of earth all of you desperately want. Sehhar is your home, but will it ever compare to earth? Will it ever compare to God's promise to your ancestors? I am the bridge that controls the creation of a new earth and a life in eternal hell in defeat! This is the ring that represents my power and authority over all humanity! AND WE WILL DEFEAT THE DREJ AND DRIVE THEIR NAMES INTO THE FIRES OF HELL, TO CREATE THIS PARADISE TOGETHER AS ONE UNIFIED RACE!"
There was silence; it blared loudly in Cale's ears. He scanned the crowd for a third time to see if there was any reaction, but everyone had remained still, either in doubt or marveling at him as the real prophet sent by God. No one had taken their eyes off him, still gazing in awe at the miracle that they had been shown.
Finding the silence uneasy, Akima spoke to the crowd: "As God taught us."
Taking his cue, Korso responded after his pilot: "As God taught us."
The crowd hadn't muttered a word yet. Their unbelieving faces, full of doubt and cynicism, continued to stare at Cale, hand still raised. The amber glow of the setting sun had bathed the slope in a splash of orange, illuminating Cale, Akima and Stith as they stood at the mouth of the cave. Haven't they seen enough? Thought Cale. Why do they doubt when the answer is right before their eyes.
"Long live the hope of humanity," someone croaked.
Cale and Akima looked around to see who had said the phrase; it was Kadesh, the fanatic leader of the Sharqikah. In a move to show his undying support for his prophet, he raised his rifle into the air, a symbol of triumph no matter what, a fight to the death for his beliefs.
"Long live the Prophet Cale Tucker Mariziah!" he screamed, thrusting his rifle up above him once again.
"Tawiel Shaalha Massar Mariziah!" declared one voice, concealed amongst the crowd.
"Long live the fighters of Cale Tucker Mariziah," screeched another.
"Long live the fighters for God!"
Soon, the mountainside was filled with a deafening roar. All the people on it were chanting: "Mariziah! Mariziah! Tawiel Shaalha Massar Mariziah! Long live Cale Tucker! Tawiel Shaalha Massar Mariziah!", cheering his name with their fervent belief in the prophet with their guns and weapons in the air.
Cale thought over their shouts in his mind: Tawiel Shaalha Massar Mariziah - Long live the fighters of the Anointed Prophet! He sighed heavily; he had managed to gain the support of thousands of people, willing to throw themselves fanatically into battle for him, without shedding blood and sparing a friends' life.
"Death to the Drej!" the crowd intoned.
"Death to the infidels who have stolen our homeland and destroyed God's creation!" others cried.
"JIHAD! DEATH TO THE DREJ INFIDELS!" the Sharqikah chanted.
In the darkness of the cave, Akima hugged Cale; once again they were together, sheltered by the hostile environment around them. "Your plan worked," she said. "Now we can defeat the Drej. This will end all human conflicts."
Cale kissed her cheek. "No, Akima. This is just the beginning."
Akima looked up at Cale as the frantic chanting continued in the background. She saw what Cale was hinting at. "You cannot release this jihad upon the universe! It will be suicide! Millions will die."
"It is God's will," Cale breathed heavily. "There is only one path now as I see it. And it is a crusade that leads to the centre of the universe."
"But what about the Titan?" Stith asked.
"You can't reject what we're here for, Cale," Akima persisted. "You may have control over millions now, but have you forgotten our original objective? The Titan is the hope that you displayed to them. If you release this jihad, there will be nothing but suffering."
Cale tried to speak; his mouth was opening and closing, but no words were coming out of. Akima's right, he thought. What good is belief when there is no salvation? The titan is the only way to fulfil that salvation.
"You're right," Cale concluded. The crowd below had dispersed, ending the gathering, but screams and cries to God could still be heard. "I must see a way out of this dilemma. I must find a way out of the madness we are heading into."
Akima rested her head on Cale's shoulder. "What are you going to do now?" she asked.
The answer was plain. "Defeat the Drej."
And from below, Korso looked up at Cale. Their gaze met; each knew they had spared the others' life, and each of them knew of the others' capability in this war. Korso had no doubts which side he was loyal to now. Well Cale, grunted Korso. You have got your wish: for once, all of us will be fighting together in the name of humanity.
TO BE CONTINUED..
Background Information: (Happens sometime in between the movie) this story takes place on Sehhar, home to an ethnic human minority. Pursued by the Drej, the crew of the Valkyrie is forced to land on this forested planet to regroup, but they are greeted with a mixture of suspicion and fear by the humans living there. When the Drej arrive and begin a sinister episode of ethnic cleansing, the humans are forced to flee into the mountains.
ALL AROUND there was silence.
This noise was alien to Akima; for all her years, she had loved the blasting percussion of music, and the rasps of engines as they burst forth into space. This was not human, the silence, it symbolised something else. The fact that she was around thousands but it was still and silent, symbolized something. Reflection maybe, she thought. Or mourning?
This community of humans had sought refuge in the mountains. Here, the air was thin. Akima had found out that she had trouble catching her breath. But it was comfort compared to the fate that awaited them in the broad, grassy plains of Sehhar: death. The Drej had butchered the human's alien allies; she could remember clearly the first time she had set foot on this planet. Suspicion, hate and rejection. Now, the humans had blamed them for their suffering.
Humans blaming humans, the thought went through her head.
The traditions of these humans she had met we unlike any other. They were warriors; Cale had said that they carried potential to help them in their fight against the Drej, but the harnessing this energy was the problem. Despite their malevolent eyes and hard stares, the watching crowd parted as she walked through the path leading to the cave where Cale had been held.
Bordered by columns of granite, the cave was well sheltered. It broke into a gentle slope as it descended, eventually emptying itself into a deep valley that cut through the mountains. On this mild slope, massed thousands of men, lying prostrate on the rocks, mumbling to God in their foreign language. The gathering would have been a spectacle for Drej aircraft, but a thick canopy of scrub and trees kept their position a secret. How they pray for him, Akima thought. Yet they still refuse to believe.
Before she entered the darkened cave, Akima felt eyes upon her, their gaze like lasers burning her skin. She spun around, right hand on her blaster, only to meet the eyes of Korso and Preed. They were with their followers; since Cale passed out, they had been meeting in secret, gathering men who believed more in them than in the possible saviour of humanity. She sensed treachery.
Korso, a smirk on his face, gave her a sarcastic wave. A terrible thought crossed her mind: would they dare? Her hands balled themselves into fists, returning Korso's glare. If they try, her hand caressed her blaster, comforting her.
"Akima?"
Akima realised that Kadesh had been waiting at the mouth of the cave for her. Somehow, the marks of green on his face reassured her. He nodded in question, as if asking her to enter. "Yes, I am ready," she replied. A burning torch in his hand, they proceeded into the cave.
The first thing Akima felt was the cold darkness. They reminded her of the Drej: merciless, ruthless creatures who had chased them to the ends of the galaxy just to exterminate their kind. Now, they were in the lowlands of Sehhar, building themselves up for the final battle. But the humans were still torn by their differences and suspicion. The goal is to be unified, she thought. Only then can we defeat them.
Kadesh led her to a door, guarded by two men, who had the same marks on the face as he had. They bowed in respect to Akima and their leader, stepping aside for Kadesh to open the door. There, covered by a blanket and unconscious on a slab of stone, was Cale, humanity's last hope. The candles surrounding him illuminated the cavern, and her friends' faces.
"Stith," Akima murmured.
The tall Mantrin got to her feet. "Akima."
"Has he awaken or shown any signs of life?" asked Akima.
"He has been like this for the last week," Stith reported. "But I assure you he's still alive."
Kadesh, not wanting to intrude, stepped outside.
"I'm sorry, I've got to tell you this but." Stith stammered. "There have been rumours."
Akima turned to her friend. "What rumours?"
"Some of the people are calling for his cremation, I strongly think that Korso and Preed have encouraged them. And the worse thing is, there's been a general agreement. Many think we are keeping a corpse in our possession."
Akima couldn't help the anger show on her face. By opposing Cale, Korso had openly challenged him. In all these matters of loyalty and the question of Cale's life, she was helpless; after all the time they had together, Cale was unconscious and she couldn't do anything about it. This was a situation that the humans' God was involved in. Now even her crew were turning away from her. The mere thought of it made her want to turn her own blaster on herself. Cale was fighting his own battle here, but he needed help, and she couldn't give it to him. Her right hand clenched into a fist, and gripped the sides of the blanket like a vice.
Taking a deep breath, she suppressed this anger. "Are there many who have decided against this?"
"Some have, but they are outnumbered. Others are undecided, but the Sharqikah disagree, of course. They think he is in a trance" Stith told her.
The Sharqikah, religious fanatics for God! Akima reminded herself of their undying belief in the reunification of the human race. There might be hope yet.
Akima moved towards her companion; he seemed peaceful in his slumber, eyes closed, hands relaxed. Only his breath was abnormal: short bursts that ceased now and then. His hair was pushed back to reveal the Sharqikah markings on his forehead. He was totally unaware of his surroundings, relying on others to sustain him. Yet Stith said it was impossible to get him to eat or drink. She cast a glance at the man she loved: she was thinner, and weak. His face, once so full of life and laughter, had retreated, sunken and bony. Whatever had caused him to pass out was clearly taking its toll on him.
She moved to his face, caressing his sides with her hands. Normally, Cale would respond to her touch. Moving her fingers across his nostrils, feeling the minute gusts of air against her skin. He was breathing; but for how long without food and water? As she neared, she drew herself face down to his lips, massaging them with her tongue, spreading the dampness of her mouth over his. With her fingers she spread that dampness across his lips, hoping for a result.
For a moment, she thought she saw movement. But it turned out to be nothing, Hopes dashed, she started to get up. Movement again! This time Akima was sure of it. She bent down towards Cale's mouth. To her amazement, she could hear something. Very softly, barely escaping the detection of a human's sense of hearing, Cale was mumbling, very fast. So fast that it seemed like his lips weren't moving at all.
She recoiled slightly. Stith could see the glimmer in her face, and she advanced. Their eyes met; hope and excitement.
"What is it?" Stith asked.
Akima's face brightened, but she kept her solemn tone. "The Sharqikah are right. Cale is in a trance, a critical mystic revelation: The Dreamtime."
Obeying orders, Kadesh and the two guards outside had entered. Akima had discussed it with them, and they had agreed to wake Cale from his dream. There was one way, the dangerous way.
"To wake him we must sever the circulation of blood to his mind. The mind powers the spirit, which desires to be holy. We have only one chance at this," Kadesh instructed his men to press down hard on his nose while he locked his fingers into a clump of skin on the neck, cutting off the arteries leading to the brain. He looked uncertainly to Akima. "But he can die if we try. If he doesn't awake, he will be guilty for the murder of an innocent man. You must be with him all this while; he longs for you in his spirituality. Be with him in his mind."
Once Kadesh begun this threatening process, there was no turning back. For a whole two minutes, Cale showed no signs of life. The guards were worried, only comforted by Kadesh and his orders for them to continue. Akima, fearing for his life, had held him by his hand, her touch the thread between life and death.
Soon, Cale's face slowly turned pale, the blood draining from it, yet he still remained in his sleep. Stith and Akima were looking on; even Kadesh seemed uneasy. As the five minutes drew near, Kadesh was ready to release his hold. Akima restrained him.
"If we go on, he may die," he insisted.
"No, he will wake up."
Akima tightened her grip. Cale, come on , wake up, she played those words over and over in her brain. You must fight the trance, reject the spirit and fee yourself. Your place is here as humanity's saviour. Akima was alerted to a sudden blinking of Cale's eyes - yes, fight the trance, Cale, she battled on in her mind, fight it - his lips had begun to move, and his nostrils inflated to breath the air - a little bit more; come on, do it for the people you're going to save from eternal death - his hands were jerking uncontrollably, mouth forcing itself to open - Kadesh and his men could sense success as the movement of his eyes grew faster - do it for the one person you love - at that moment, Cale awoke with a gasp of air surging into his lungs. Kadesh and his men released their tight grips, and the blood flowed back into Cale's mind.
He blinked his eyes open, his lungs still straining for air as he breathed rapidly. Akima stared into his deep almond eyes, parting his blonde hair with her fingers. Cale, recovering from the trance he was in, stared back. Finally he gathered enough strength to raise his hand and run it across Akima's luscious purple bangs.
"Cale, you're still alive," she mumbled to him.
"Where am I?" he asked, trying to get up. "I thought I was outside just a few minutes ago."
Kadesh and his men exited the room again. "You were in a mystic trance, the Dreamtime."
Cale grinned, his eyes seemed bleached by colour, adjusting to the dim intensity of light; he massaged his forehead with his hand, and sat bolt upright. "Yeah, it was the best thing that I have ever seen." He took Akima's outstretched hands and gripped them.
For a moment, Akima thought she was in a trance too. Her whole world, the surroundings, the cavern they wee in, fell away, washed by an invisible force. She was now standing on a mountain peak, overlooking the vast plains of Sehhar, Cale by her side. The green landscape rolled as far as her eyes could see them, a green mass of dispersed trees spreading across a massive expanse of land.
"I have seen things that no human, no living creature has seen before," Cale told her, caressing her face. "I have experienced these things as if they have happened to me, and have endured the happiness and the pain of these experiences. See the plains of Sehhar, this is the future of the human race on this planet."
"You have seen the future."
"No, I have seen the universe."
Akima turned to Cale. He was so much unlike the Cale she once knew. Had she lost him in that trance, only to gain someone more affectionate, or someone more cold?
The plains that darkened, like a great night befalling it. A flash, and the plains, once so green and inviting, were bathed in blood. Human corpses were everywhere, piled one on top of each other, spreading over the land like a gruesome red carpet. She had only seen this ghastly image once: in a school textbook, when Hitler slaughtered the Jews. But this was a bigger holocaust. The bodies filled the plains, overflowing, spilling out into the rivers and lakes. Blood washed over the land like rain, bleaching the rivers and painting the trees and mountains red. There were screams: human screams, and cries of agony.
"There is a God," Cale said. "Who never slumbers or sleeps. He has power over all, and he is holy and pure. He has but to turn his eye down on the universe, and his creation will be washed away and destroyed by his wrath. He is a zealous God, acknowledges those who fear him and spurns those who call themselves his enemies. He is always a strength to the weary and a comforter to the meek. There is only one God, and I am his messenger."
The scene of blood and bloodshed continued. It had infested Akima's mind to a point where she could take no more. Every nerve in her body was burning, straining to implode and break. Her mind was boiling, screaming for the torture to cease. She fell to her knees. Cale, cold and unmoving, looked down upon her.
"You are the one the humans of Sehhar call to rescue them," Akima groaned. "Please Cale, make this stop."
"No, Akima. I am more than just a legend. I am the fulcrum, the giver and the taker. The bridge that divides universe and time, the border that hangs between the life and death. There is only one messenger, and I am the one."
"Akima?"
Like a dream, Akima awoke, Stith gently jabbing her with her arms. She stared at her surroundings, she was back in the cavern again: the candles surrounding her, the stone slab and Cale, sitting upright.
"Akima, are you okay?" Stith asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine," she got up. "We must tell the others that Cale has awaken."
Cale touched her arm gently. "No, I'll do it," he requested, his voice firm and steady. Akima couldn't avoid his piercing stare as he put on his shirt. "Hold my hand, Akima," he said. "Now you know."
"Captain, do you ever contemplate the fact that Cale will eventually wake up from his 'trance'?" Preed asked. At once, Korso shot a glance at him, eyes narrowed, fists clenched.
"Why do you ask?" he questioned his Akrennian comrade. He should've known the answer by inferring from that pathetic look on Preed's face. But this war was all about support; Korso could afford to lose one devoted supporter at this stage. "Do you doubt my good faith?"
Preed slunk back into the cliff wall. "Of course not, Captain. I was just thinking whether our move to oppose him will really keep us alive."
Korso massaged his chin; he felt along the soft hairs of his beard, running up to the sides of his chin. His eyes picked out a group of young boys in the front row of the praying swarm of people, their faces decorated with markings. Sharqikah, he thought to himself. They are the pack of wolves we must exterminate. If it wasn't for that fool Cale rescuing their leader from the Drej attack, we wouldn't have to deal with them. Dangerous; they'll gladly give their lives for Cale, only to find out that he's merely a fraud. Poor souls.
"Everything's in control, my friend," Korso smirked smugly. "That stimulant I slipped into Cale's food will increase his metabolism rate tenfold. With each passing day, he drains out a fraction of his own body weight, while his body still hungers for more food. He'll die eventually, I find it impossible for someone to survive. And then."
Korso crashed his fist against the rock wall on his side, setting loose some stone fragments into the plunging chasm below. His fist had left a lasting impact, a small crater in the hard rock walls.
".The Drej attack?" Preed guessed.
"Yeah. Once we notify them that Cale's out of the picture, the human community here will be crippled, lost and leaderless. If it's necessary, I'll assume Cale's command first, and then I'll have all the support I need if the Drej play us out." Korso said confidently, although he shuddered at the thought.
"How about.?" Preed jerked his head in the direction of their followers, a handful bunch that had rallied behind the two of them.
"We'll give them the same fates as Akima and Stith," he sniggered, eyes flickering malevolently. "Death."
"My, Captain, you really did your homework, didn't you" Preed replied, a thin smile on his face to commend his Captain.
"If everything goes well, we'll alert the Drej tonight," Korso informed. "They're still in the cities. The darkness will give us enough cover to get away. As long as the Drej destroy every single human on this planet, the Queen has given us her word that she'll spare us, and soon we'll be rich beyond your wildest dreams,"
Preed nodded in reply. The men who had foolishly pledged their support to them hadn't heard a thing, as they continued their ignorant existence of forever discussing among themselves. Korso produced a flask of water from his back, then took a large swig of it. He kept his gaze focused on Preed. Scumbag, he thought. He thinks I don't know that his Akrennian friends will be waiting for me once this mission's complete. Gullible fools. They should've known better than to help the Drej in their conquest. By the time they come to find me for help, it'll be too late. I'll be light years away and rich. All they'll find is a small token of my appreciation - their friend's body.
Korso had hardly finished his dose of water when his attention was momentarily distracted by something stirring from the extreme right corner of his eye. Someone was walking out of the cave. To his horror, he turned to see Cale, flanked by Stith and Akima, fully recovered from his stupour. The masses praying on the slope stopped their actions and got to their feet. The air was filled with the shuffling of feet; shortly after, a deafening silence encompassed them. Korso looked around; everyone, even Preed and their men, had gotten to their feet.
Cale surveyed the huge gathering of people, humans, with his eyes. They had been praying for me, and indeed God has answered their prayers, he thought. Now I have to lead them.
"The Drej have massed their destructive forces in the plains of Sehhar bordered by the two twin valleys," Cale told them. "They have strengthened themselves with an armada of Akrennian weaponry and armament. In the space above us resides the Drej Queen and her ship; they dare not destroy the planet with her Drej minions on it. She will descend from her throne in a few days' time, arriving on Sehharian soil to witness her Drej triumph before she incinerates this world. The Akrennians are with them."
Damn, he knows, thought Korso, his glance meeting Preed's troubled stare. Our plan is useless now that he is in control. But I may seize power from him and guide these foolhardy humans to their doom yet. I must act as if I didn't know a clue what's been going on.
"But how do you know?" Korso asked Cale aloud. The hundreds of people turned their gaze to him. "We have yet to be informed by our spies. And you were asleep."
"Not asleep," Cale rasped. "But having a vision."
"Cale has experienced the mystic Dreamtime," Akima informed the people. Immediately, an uneasy muttering of voices replaced the absolute silence. It was hard to believe a foreigner had received visions from God.
"Is that true?" demanded Korso.
Stith nodded clearly so that everyone could see. "I have been at his side for seven days. He has been in a religious trance."
"MARIZIAH!"
Cale scanned the crowd again. Mariziah, the receiver of God's strength, he thought. Who has called me the strengthened of God?
"Mariziah!" screamed the voice. It was Kadesh; no one else spoke, so his voice travelled to Cale easily. "You are our lamp in the darkness! You are the prophet sent by God to deliver us! You must be our leader when we lead our jihad against the Drej."
"You must put down all those who oppose your righteousness," screamed someone in the crowd.
The crowd's attention turned back again to Korso, who was alone now. Preed and his men were hiding in the shadows, abandoning their leader. Looking around, Korso realised he had chosen a bad time to defy the fanatical Sharqikah and Cale. Head held high, he faced the angry mob.
"You must not have any opposition when you lead us in jihad!" Kadesh hollered. "You must prove that you are the prophet sent by God and rejected by no one else!"
Cale turned his head sideways, wishing to speak only to Akima. "Has Korso openly declared his opposition?" he asked.
"Yeah, and I don't like the look on his face," went Akima.
"Me either," added Stith.
Cale elevated his right hand, silencing the crowd, addressing his question directly at Korso. "Korso, my comrade and friend, do you oppose me and doubt my wisdom?"
Korso found his mouth failing to respond to his mind. Sweat trickled down his forehead and across his crossed arms; he knew that if he said yes, the Sharqikah would lunge upon him and tear him into pieces. Yet, if he denied his wrong, the Sharqikah would still denounce him. No matter which way he turned, death would be waiting stealthily at the end of his sentence. He was in a real jam now; all the Drejs' plans, his dreams of a life of luxury and wealth seemed to be ruined, fading before his eyes. What a fool I've been, he blamed himself in his mind. How I underestimated you Cale!
"He doesn't answer," Cale declared. "Is it because you fear me?"
Before he could control himself, Korso had gotten to his knees, slowly acknowledging with a nod as an answer.
"HE LIES!" someone screamed.
There were scattered shouts of agreement in the crowd.
"I am your leader, I'll decide who is telling the truth," Cale told them.
"God decides and we decide!" lifted an angry voice.
"So that is the bottomline, eh?"
"It is the law, and the law cannot be broken!" shouted someone else angrily.
Cale looked at Korso again. Here I have my mentor, my Captain, and he is submitting to me. Should I kill him because he is my enemy, or because I need the support of these people? How powerful have I really become?
"Surely Mariziah can see through the deception!" shouted another.
"ENOUGH!" Cale commanded. "I AM THE LAW!"
At his order, the crowd stilled, silenced.
"Do you wish me to kill someone I know?" he demanded. "Do you wish me to murder a close comrade just so you can have a spectacle of my power and authority?"
"It is God's sign to us," someone muttered.
"And how is this sign interpreted?" he raised his voice, shouting to all those before him. "By the blood of a human who is our brother? By the murder of a capable fighter for the cause? We are fighting with jihad, the highest honour among all you fighters out there! And before that honour is bestowed would you kill your friend to prove your superiority? Would you burn your homes as a testament to a God that you claim stands by your side through your sins?"
"If I am the Mariziah as you claim me to be, then no person can against me. Must God prove this to you by shedding the blood of his loyal soldiers? This man you charge with rebellion is a fighter - and so are every single one of you. Must we create internal disunity among our brothers to seek a sign from God? Have you not seen enough humans killing other humans to satisfy your lust for blood?" Cale questioned. "Korso is a fighter, a soldier, a servant - for God, and he will be with us in our jihad, whether or not he is a traitor or not!"
"God's fighters do not accept traitors," went a voice, and there was a murmur of agreement once more.
"What is our goal?" Cale asked them. "To defeat the Drej, smite the Akrennian adversaries that defy us, and take control of the homeworld you have lived upon since the destruction of Earth."
"The Mariziah sees the truth!"
"And does this jihad include the killing of our human brothers?"
Cale had struck a point. The crowd, once rowdy and fierce, had become silent again, not a sound coming from them.
"You say I am the Mariziah, ordained by God as his prophet to lead humanity," Cale said. He took his father's gold ring out of his back pocket and slipped in onto his middle finger. He thrust his hand into the air; the gold ring shimmered as the bloody glow of a setting sun reflected its rays off it. Like a beacon, it was shone brightly to everyone. "I say I am humanity's only hope! With this ring, I have the power to create the paradise of earth all of you desperately want. Sehhar is your home, but will it ever compare to earth? Will it ever compare to God's promise to your ancestors? I am the bridge that controls the creation of a new earth and a life in eternal hell in defeat! This is the ring that represents my power and authority over all humanity! AND WE WILL DEFEAT THE DREJ AND DRIVE THEIR NAMES INTO THE FIRES OF HELL, TO CREATE THIS PARADISE TOGETHER AS ONE UNIFIED RACE!"
There was silence; it blared loudly in Cale's ears. He scanned the crowd for a third time to see if there was any reaction, but everyone had remained still, either in doubt or marveling at him as the real prophet sent by God. No one had taken their eyes off him, still gazing in awe at the miracle that they had been shown.
Finding the silence uneasy, Akima spoke to the crowd: "As God taught us."
Taking his cue, Korso responded after his pilot: "As God taught us."
The crowd hadn't muttered a word yet. Their unbelieving faces, full of doubt and cynicism, continued to stare at Cale, hand still raised. The amber glow of the setting sun had bathed the slope in a splash of orange, illuminating Cale, Akima and Stith as they stood at the mouth of the cave. Haven't they seen enough? Thought Cale. Why do they doubt when the answer is right before their eyes.
"Long live the hope of humanity," someone croaked.
Cale and Akima looked around to see who had said the phrase; it was Kadesh, the fanatic leader of the Sharqikah. In a move to show his undying support for his prophet, he raised his rifle into the air, a symbol of triumph no matter what, a fight to the death for his beliefs.
"Long live the Prophet Cale Tucker Mariziah!" he screamed, thrusting his rifle up above him once again.
"Tawiel Shaalha Massar Mariziah!" declared one voice, concealed amongst the crowd.
"Long live the fighters of Cale Tucker Mariziah," screeched another.
"Long live the fighters for God!"
Soon, the mountainside was filled with a deafening roar. All the people on it were chanting: "Mariziah! Mariziah! Tawiel Shaalha Massar Mariziah! Long live Cale Tucker! Tawiel Shaalha Massar Mariziah!", cheering his name with their fervent belief in the prophet with their guns and weapons in the air.
Cale thought over their shouts in his mind: Tawiel Shaalha Massar Mariziah - Long live the fighters of the Anointed Prophet! He sighed heavily; he had managed to gain the support of thousands of people, willing to throw themselves fanatically into battle for him, without shedding blood and sparing a friends' life.
"Death to the Drej!" the crowd intoned.
"Death to the infidels who have stolen our homeland and destroyed God's creation!" others cried.
"JIHAD! DEATH TO THE DREJ INFIDELS!" the Sharqikah chanted.
In the darkness of the cave, Akima hugged Cale; once again they were together, sheltered by the hostile environment around them. "Your plan worked," she said. "Now we can defeat the Drej. This will end all human conflicts."
Cale kissed her cheek. "No, Akima. This is just the beginning."
Akima looked up at Cale as the frantic chanting continued in the background. She saw what Cale was hinting at. "You cannot release this jihad upon the universe! It will be suicide! Millions will die."
"It is God's will," Cale breathed heavily. "There is only one path now as I see it. And it is a crusade that leads to the centre of the universe."
"But what about the Titan?" Stith asked.
"You can't reject what we're here for, Cale," Akima persisted. "You may have control over millions now, but have you forgotten our original objective? The Titan is the hope that you displayed to them. If you release this jihad, there will be nothing but suffering."
Cale tried to speak; his mouth was opening and closing, but no words were coming out of. Akima's right, he thought. What good is belief when there is no salvation? The titan is the only way to fulfil that salvation.
"You're right," Cale concluded. The crowd below had dispersed, ending the gathering, but screams and cries to God could still be heard. "I must see a way out of this dilemma. I must find a way out of the madness we are heading into."
Akima rested her head on Cale's shoulder. "What are you going to do now?" she asked.
The answer was plain. "Defeat the Drej."
And from below, Korso looked up at Cale. Their gaze met; each knew they had spared the others' life, and each of them knew of the others' capability in this war. Korso had no doubts which side he was loyal to now. Well Cale, grunted Korso. You have got your wish: for once, all of us will be fighting together in the name of humanity.
TO BE CONTINUED..
