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Interlude:
A night full of dreams of being captured. Caught. Unable to move. What was it with people, why did they always seem to want to put him in chains? And it wasn't just dreams. It was memories. Memories that were worse than any nightmare. The tiny dungeon underneath the desert sand, the warehouse with the corrugated walls, smelling much the same. Heat and cold and hard iron holding him down. He couldn't do it again. Not again. He'd rather die than let them capture him again. Either of them. Any of them. He wouldn't let them get him alive. He would make sure Tyr showed him how to use that gun.
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Chapter Eight: You're not there when you're not needed
The trading planet was little more than a muddy rock with a landing pad. It was about the size of the Earth's moon, with a climate that was reasonably mild, but also seemed to include constant rain. There was a sun at the right distance, obviously, but it was doubtful that it had ever been seen from the planet's surface.
It was evening when they entered orbit, or it would be at their destination. They would leave for the surface as soon as day broke on the little trading post on the Northern Hemisphere. As small as the planet was, it was rotating fairly fast; night would only last about seven hours. Tyr went up to the bridge.
"Are you sure you want to disembark here?" Beka asked Milon, "It looks miserable down there."
She turned and looked at Dylan, like he was somehow supposed to back up her argument, but Dylan was too busy studying some computer screen or other.
"Yeah, I'll be fine! It's a trading planet, right? Loads of ships are bound to come by… I'll get a lift to somewhere else," Milon said.
"I think you have a bit too high an opinion of people. Most spacefaring species are very suspicious to strangers. They have to be."
Beka seemed a little concerned. Not that she was going to stop Milon if he wanted to go. Tyr sat down and watched them.
"I'll be alright. Really. Besides, you'll want to get on with whatever you're doing… not have me hanging around, getting in the way."
Beka turned to look at the captain once again. Like she was expecting him to say something. Tell Milon that he could stay until they came across a more pleasant planet, perhaps. But Dylan was not saying anything.
"We will leave in seven hours," Tyr said to Milon, who just nodded at him.
Seven hours. Plenty of time. Tyr made his way to the shuttles. He did not plan on telling anybody that he was going. Obviously, Rommie would notice anyway. So what? He was really just following the captain's orders. Time to find out some more about this Morgan. And his ship.
The shuttle set down hard in inches of mud, sending splashes of dirt all over the landing pad. The rain was beating down, hammering against the metal hull. Tyr suddenly remembered why he liked space so much. No weather. He pulled up the hood on his raincoat and stepped outside.
Several floodlights illuminated the landing strip, but even they had to struggle with the rain, which lay like a thick, grey drapery over the land. Combined with the night, it made for the worst possible visibility. Good. Tyr headed for the door of the spaceport's terminal. It opened without any identification on his behalf. Apparently, this was a place where anybody was welcome. Either that or security was very, very bad.
The inside of the terminal was not much better than the outside. At least it was dry. Ish. The floor was covered in muddy footprints. The strip lighting in the ceiling had seen better days. At this hour of the night, the place was not exactly buzzing with activity. Tyr saw a couple of people moving about, carrying heavy-looking crates, or just sitting down, waiting for the rain to let up, or the morning to come, whichever happened to occur first. He kept his hood up, and made his way to one of the communication points. Using the frequency he had obtained from the transmission to the Andromeda earlier, he sent out a hail to the Vertex. Captain Morgan's face appeared on the screen almost immediately. When he saw Tyr, he looked surprised. Like he had expected someone else.
"Who are you?" the captain asked.
"I am Tyr Anazasi of the Andromeda, the starship whose captain you spoke to earlier in regard to a certain… slave."
"Yes. I remember."
"Then you also remember that Captain Hunt was not very forthcoming in returning what had been lost by you. I am here to let you know that not necessarily all of his crew agrees with his decision."
Captain Morgan's face suddenly widened in a smile. He said:
"So, would you be willing to do business with us? I expect you are looking for some kind of compensation?"
"Naturally."
"Name your price."
The captain was not much of a negotiator. It was rapidly becoming apparent to Tyr just how badly he wanted the boy back. The only question was, why?
"First I want to know what use he is to you."
The captain's smile faded. He seemed to be thinking about it. Then he said:
"I am going to have to make a… request for you. I will freeze the transmission, wait there."
The screen froze and Tyr slowly pulled his gun and looked around. The place was still mostly empty. There was only one entrance and Tyr had a clear line of vision towards it. The terminal was a one-storey building; there was no upper level where a sniper could hide. Actually, there were no hiding places at all in the big, open hall. If anybody was coming for him, he would see it. So he waited. A few minutes later, the screen came back to life with the captain's face.
"Ok, Mr. Anazasi, your conditions have been met. A representative of our people is going to meet you in person to discuss the terms of the handover. There is a bar at the far end of the terminal building. Wait there."
Then the screen went black as the communication ended. Tyr re- holstered his gun and started walking across the hall towards the bar. It was not so much a bar as a corner of the room where a tired-looking alien of some unknown description was standing behind a counter with three different bottles on a shelf behind him. In front of the counter were ten or so stools, three of which were occupied. Nobody even bothered to look up as Tyr sat down on a stool with his back against the wall and his eyes on the entranced. The barkeep came over to ask him what drink he wanted but Tyr just shook his head and the barkeep took no for an answer and left him alone. It was not like Tyr was taking up the place of a paying customer.
He did not have to wait long. The Vertexans must have sent a group down to the surface earlier, because it had been no more than ten minutes when the doors opened and a hooded figure stepped inside, walking straight towards the bar, dripping rainwater all over the floor. The figure went straight up to Tyr and said:
"Mr. Anazasi, I presume," A woman's voice. "Follow me."
"Where?"
"Somewhere we can talk. You wanted to know our reasons for wanting the slave back? Also, we still have to discuss the price…"
Her voice was soft, but Tyr could hear an undercurrent of excitement. She was clearly happy about this new chance to get Milon back. Tyr felt confident that he was not walking into some kind of trap. After all, they were only doing business.
He followed the hooded woman out into the rain. Across the landing pad and over to another building. It was some kind of hotel; a red neon sign on the front showed a bed in a circle. Diagonally across the bed was another neon tube, which for the moment was turned off. Saved them having to translate the word 'vacancies' into multiple languages.
The lobby of the hotel smelt of different kinds of smoke. The carpet was encrusted with mud and cigarette ashes. In one dimly lit corner was a table and four armchairs, currently all unoccupied. No sign of anybody behind the counter. The woman walked over to the table and sat down in the chair in the corner. Tyr watched as she swept back the hood from her face and opened the buttons on the front of her raincoat. This woman was certainly not a earth-born human. Under her coat she was wearing some kind of dark blue and black uniform, so tight that it looked like a second skin. Her hair was long and black, put up in an elaborate hair-do that had only been slightly disturbed by the hood of her coat. There was some kind of gold thread winding around in her hair, and she was wearing earrings that looked like they just might be real diamonds. No, definitely not born on Earth.
"Have a seat," she said.
Tyr pulled his hood back and sat down. Outside the rain was beating against the windows. Apart from that, everything was silent.
"Who are you?" Tyr asked.
"My name is Lillian. I am the leader of a group of people who are all that remains from what was one the greatest civilisation in the galaxy. Now we have been reduced to hiding out among the oppressed masses that passes for humans on your Earth."
Tyr could hear her voice tremble with emotion. Whatever it was she was about to tell him, it would almost certainly be the truth.
"What happened?" Tyr asked.
"The Genies, that's what happened. Freaks. They could not accept their position in our society, but chose to start a war. A war they called a rebellion. A fight for freedom. But it didn't end there, they had to escalate the war until it was no longer about their freedom, but our defeat!"
She was clenching her hands into fists, her dark brown eyes glittering with anger.
"And you were defeated?"
"No! The Humans would never surrender to those… creatures! We were prepared to defend our society, our Earth, until the end. And that is what happened. The end. Those things destroyed the whole planet with their war. Our proud society crumbled, turned into anarchy. And it didn't even end there. As the Human colonists from other planets saw what Earth was becoming, realised the threat of the Genies, they decided to…"
She paused, her voice almost breaking with bitterness.
"…destroy it. They sacrificed Earth, the jewel in our crown, to get rid of those freaks. About five hundred of us Humans managed to channel through to this dimension. Were we found Earth in an even worse state than it had been at home! Humans as slaves to these… Nitzscheans! This has gone far beyond the political thing it started out as…"
"So how does the boy fit in to all this?" Tyr asked.
"That… boy is a Genie! He might not be from the same dimension we come from, but he still has the power to help us rebuild our society! My people are desperate, having to live as refugees. We might have the technology to open a rift in the veil, but we don't have the energy required, the power needed to channel anything. We only brought one slave with us from our dimension, and it took all of his power to allow us to bring the Vertex through. It was at the very last minute. We got a glimpse of our Earth as a crumbling ball of flames in our dimension, before the veil closed after we had brought the Vertex over. Channelling something so big takes a lot of energy. The slave died shortly after, leaving us truly stranded in this dimension."
So, Milon had been right then. They had crossed over, as he called it. And the woman herself had admitted that they had the technology to shift between different dimensions. Fascinating.
"But the boy is not one of your slaves," Tyr said, "So we did not steal from you after all…"
"It was my men who caught the Genie on this Earth! We found he was ideal for our needs. Unfortunately, the men we had guarding him failed their duties. They left him alone and… well, you know the rest of the story."
Yes, he knew the rest of what had happened, but he still did not know what their plans were. Open a rift into another dimension, yes, but why? And where did all the blood and mystical symbols he had seen in the warehouse fit it?
"So, what are your plans for him, provided you do get him back?" Tyr said.
Lillian looked him straight into the eyes. He could see the determination shining out of her. She would not give up until she had what she wanted. Interestingly. Incidentally, neither would Tyr.
"Is Earth your home?" she asked.
"No."
"Well, that might make this easier for you to understand. There are an infinite amount of dimensions, but we have only explored a couple of thousand. Some of them are very similar to this one. Some of them are not. Rather than trying to leave this dimension, and risk getting trapped once again in another one, one were we might never encounter another Genie to take us out of there, we have decided to stay here and try to rebuild our society. Earth, in this dimension, is basically destroyed as it is. We intend to use the Genie to channel through a creature with enough power to wipe the planet clean, and build something new!"
Was the woman insane? Tyr had the feeling that he might be talking to someone who was not in full use of their senses.
"You doubt me?" Lillian said, "You don't think it's possible?"
"Is it?"
"Of course it is! There are millions of demon dimensions out there. Do you believe in God?"
Tyr did not answer, just waited for her to continue.
"Well, there are plenty of gods spanned across the dimensions. Maybe not as powerful as the one many Humans believe in, but certainly powerful enough for our purposes… if the power is harnessed correctly…"
Well, that would explain the symbols and the air of religious fanaticism in the warehouse.
"So the boy is clearly very valuable to you. From the reaction of the people chasing us on Earth, you would almost think they worshipped him," Tyr said to start wrapping things up.
"Some of our people sees this Genie as our saviour, a key to a better world," Lillian's face tightened into a grimace of contempt, "They have obviously forgot that it was Genies who put us in this situation to begin with. To me he's nothing but a living battery. But a battery we need."
Tyr smiled.
"Maybe it is time to discuss what is in this deal for me?"
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Interlude:
A night full of dreams of being captured. Caught. Unable to move. What was it with people, why did they always seem to want to put him in chains? And it wasn't just dreams. It was memories. Memories that were worse than any nightmare. The tiny dungeon underneath the desert sand, the warehouse with the corrugated walls, smelling much the same. Heat and cold and hard iron holding him down. He couldn't do it again. Not again. He'd rather die than let them capture him again. Either of them. Any of them. He wouldn't let them get him alive. He would make sure Tyr showed him how to use that gun.
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Chapter Eight: You're not there when you're not needed
The trading planet was little more than a muddy rock with a landing pad. It was about the size of the Earth's moon, with a climate that was reasonably mild, but also seemed to include constant rain. There was a sun at the right distance, obviously, but it was doubtful that it had ever been seen from the planet's surface.
It was evening when they entered orbit, or it would be at their destination. They would leave for the surface as soon as day broke on the little trading post on the Northern Hemisphere. As small as the planet was, it was rotating fairly fast; night would only last about seven hours. Tyr went up to the bridge.
"Are you sure you want to disembark here?" Beka asked Milon, "It looks miserable down there."
She turned and looked at Dylan, like he was somehow supposed to back up her argument, but Dylan was too busy studying some computer screen or other.
"Yeah, I'll be fine! It's a trading planet, right? Loads of ships are bound to come by… I'll get a lift to somewhere else," Milon said.
"I think you have a bit too high an opinion of people. Most spacefaring species are very suspicious to strangers. They have to be."
Beka seemed a little concerned. Not that she was going to stop Milon if he wanted to go. Tyr sat down and watched them.
"I'll be alright. Really. Besides, you'll want to get on with whatever you're doing… not have me hanging around, getting in the way."
Beka turned to look at the captain once again. Like she was expecting him to say something. Tell Milon that he could stay until they came across a more pleasant planet, perhaps. But Dylan was not saying anything.
"We will leave in seven hours," Tyr said to Milon, who just nodded at him.
Seven hours. Plenty of time. Tyr made his way to the shuttles. He did not plan on telling anybody that he was going. Obviously, Rommie would notice anyway. So what? He was really just following the captain's orders. Time to find out some more about this Morgan. And his ship.
The shuttle set down hard in inches of mud, sending splashes of dirt all over the landing pad. The rain was beating down, hammering against the metal hull. Tyr suddenly remembered why he liked space so much. No weather. He pulled up the hood on his raincoat and stepped outside.
Several floodlights illuminated the landing strip, but even they had to struggle with the rain, which lay like a thick, grey drapery over the land. Combined with the night, it made for the worst possible visibility. Good. Tyr headed for the door of the spaceport's terminal. It opened without any identification on his behalf. Apparently, this was a place where anybody was welcome. Either that or security was very, very bad.
The inside of the terminal was not much better than the outside. At least it was dry. Ish. The floor was covered in muddy footprints. The strip lighting in the ceiling had seen better days. At this hour of the night, the place was not exactly buzzing with activity. Tyr saw a couple of people moving about, carrying heavy-looking crates, or just sitting down, waiting for the rain to let up, or the morning to come, whichever happened to occur first. He kept his hood up, and made his way to one of the communication points. Using the frequency he had obtained from the transmission to the Andromeda earlier, he sent out a hail to the Vertex. Captain Morgan's face appeared on the screen almost immediately. When he saw Tyr, he looked surprised. Like he had expected someone else.
"Who are you?" the captain asked.
"I am Tyr Anazasi of the Andromeda, the starship whose captain you spoke to earlier in regard to a certain… slave."
"Yes. I remember."
"Then you also remember that Captain Hunt was not very forthcoming in returning what had been lost by you. I am here to let you know that not necessarily all of his crew agrees with his decision."
Captain Morgan's face suddenly widened in a smile. He said:
"So, would you be willing to do business with us? I expect you are looking for some kind of compensation?"
"Naturally."
"Name your price."
The captain was not much of a negotiator. It was rapidly becoming apparent to Tyr just how badly he wanted the boy back. The only question was, why?
"First I want to know what use he is to you."
The captain's smile faded. He seemed to be thinking about it. Then he said:
"I am going to have to make a… request for you. I will freeze the transmission, wait there."
The screen froze and Tyr slowly pulled his gun and looked around. The place was still mostly empty. There was only one entrance and Tyr had a clear line of vision towards it. The terminal was a one-storey building; there was no upper level where a sniper could hide. Actually, there were no hiding places at all in the big, open hall. If anybody was coming for him, he would see it. So he waited. A few minutes later, the screen came back to life with the captain's face.
"Ok, Mr. Anazasi, your conditions have been met. A representative of our people is going to meet you in person to discuss the terms of the handover. There is a bar at the far end of the terminal building. Wait there."
Then the screen went black as the communication ended. Tyr re- holstered his gun and started walking across the hall towards the bar. It was not so much a bar as a corner of the room where a tired-looking alien of some unknown description was standing behind a counter with three different bottles on a shelf behind him. In front of the counter were ten or so stools, three of which were occupied. Nobody even bothered to look up as Tyr sat down on a stool with his back against the wall and his eyes on the entranced. The barkeep came over to ask him what drink he wanted but Tyr just shook his head and the barkeep took no for an answer and left him alone. It was not like Tyr was taking up the place of a paying customer.
He did not have to wait long. The Vertexans must have sent a group down to the surface earlier, because it had been no more than ten minutes when the doors opened and a hooded figure stepped inside, walking straight towards the bar, dripping rainwater all over the floor. The figure went straight up to Tyr and said:
"Mr. Anazasi, I presume," A woman's voice. "Follow me."
"Where?"
"Somewhere we can talk. You wanted to know our reasons for wanting the slave back? Also, we still have to discuss the price…"
Her voice was soft, but Tyr could hear an undercurrent of excitement. She was clearly happy about this new chance to get Milon back. Tyr felt confident that he was not walking into some kind of trap. After all, they were only doing business.
He followed the hooded woman out into the rain. Across the landing pad and over to another building. It was some kind of hotel; a red neon sign on the front showed a bed in a circle. Diagonally across the bed was another neon tube, which for the moment was turned off. Saved them having to translate the word 'vacancies' into multiple languages.
The lobby of the hotel smelt of different kinds of smoke. The carpet was encrusted with mud and cigarette ashes. In one dimly lit corner was a table and four armchairs, currently all unoccupied. No sign of anybody behind the counter. The woman walked over to the table and sat down in the chair in the corner. Tyr watched as she swept back the hood from her face and opened the buttons on the front of her raincoat. This woman was certainly not a earth-born human. Under her coat she was wearing some kind of dark blue and black uniform, so tight that it looked like a second skin. Her hair was long and black, put up in an elaborate hair-do that had only been slightly disturbed by the hood of her coat. There was some kind of gold thread winding around in her hair, and she was wearing earrings that looked like they just might be real diamonds. No, definitely not born on Earth.
"Have a seat," she said.
Tyr pulled his hood back and sat down. Outside the rain was beating against the windows. Apart from that, everything was silent.
"Who are you?" Tyr asked.
"My name is Lillian. I am the leader of a group of people who are all that remains from what was one the greatest civilisation in the galaxy. Now we have been reduced to hiding out among the oppressed masses that passes for humans on your Earth."
Tyr could hear her voice tremble with emotion. Whatever it was she was about to tell him, it would almost certainly be the truth.
"What happened?" Tyr asked.
"The Genies, that's what happened. Freaks. They could not accept their position in our society, but chose to start a war. A war they called a rebellion. A fight for freedom. But it didn't end there, they had to escalate the war until it was no longer about their freedom, but our defeat!"
She was clenching her hands into fists, her dark brown eyes glittering with anger.
"And you were defeated?"
"No! The Humans would never surrender to those… creatures! We were prepared to defend our society, our Earth, until the end. And that is what happened. The end. Those things destroyed the whole planet with their war. Our proud society crumbled, turned into anarchy. And it didn't even end there. As the Human colonists from other planets saw what Earth was becoming, realised the threat of the Genies, they decided to…"
She paused, her voice almost breaking with bitterness.
"…destroy it. They sacrificed Earth, the jewel in our crown, to get rid of those freaks. About five hundred of us Humans managed to channel through to this dimension. Were we found Earth in an even worse state than it had been at home! Humans as slaves to these… Nitzscheans! This has gone far beyond the political thing it started out as…"
"So how does the boy fit in to all this?" Tyr asked.
"That… boy is a Genie! He might not be from the same dimension we come from, but he still has the power to help us rebuild our society! My people are desperate, having to live as refugees. We might have the technology to open a rift in the veil, but we don't have the energy required, the power needed to channel anything. We only brought one slave with us from our dimension, and it took all of his power to allow us to bring the Vertex through. It was at the very last minute. We got a glimpse of our Earth as a crumbling ball of flames in our dimension, before the veil closed after we had brought the Vertex over. Channelling something so big takes a lot of energy. The slave died shortly after, leaving us truly stranded in this dimension."
So, Milon had been right then. They had crossed over, as he called it. And the woman herself had admitted that they had the technology to shift between different dimensions. Fascinating.
"But the boy is not one of your slaves," Tyr said, "So we did not steal from you after all…"
"It was my men who caught the Genie on this Earth! We found he was ideal for our needs. Unfortunately, the men we had guarding him failed their duties. They left him alone and… well, you know the rest of the story."
Yes, he knew the rest of what had happened, but he still did not know what their plans were. Open a rift into another dimension, yes, but why? And where did all the blood and mystical symbols he had seen in the warehouse fit it?
"So, what are your plans for him, provided you do get him back?" Tyr said.
Lillian looked him straight into the eyes. He could see the determination shining out of her. She would not give up until she had what she wanted. Interestingly. Incidentally, neither would Tyr.
"Is Earth your home?" she asked.
"No."
"Well, that might make this easier for you to understand. There are an infinite amount of dimensions, but we have only explored a couple of thousand. Some of them are very similar to this one. Some of them are not. Rather than trying to leave this dimension, and risk getting trapped once again in another one, one were we might never encounter another Genie to take us out of there, we have decided to stay here and try to rebuild our society. Earth, in this dimension, is basically destroyed as it is. We intend to use the Genie to channel through a creature with enough power to wipe the planet clean, and build something new!"
Was the woman insane? Tyr had the feeling that he might be talking to someone who was not in full use of their senses.
"You doubt me?" Lillian said, "You don't think it's possible?"
"Is it?"
"Of course it is! There are millions of demon dimensions out there. Do you believe in God?"
Tyr did not answer, just waited for her to continue.
"Well, there are plenty of gods spanned across the dimensions. Maybe not as powerful as the one many Humans believe in, but certainly powerful enough for our purposes… if the power is harnessed correctly…"
Well, that would explain the symbols and the air of religious fanaticism in the warehouse.
"So the boy is clearly very valuable to you. From the reaction of the people chasing us on Earth, you would almost think they worshipped him," Tyr said to start wrapping things up.
"Some of our people sees this Genie as our saviour, a key to a better world," Lillian's face tightened into a grimace of contempt, "They have obviously forgot that it was Genies who put us in this situation to begin with. To me he's nothing but a living battery. But a battery we need."
Tyr smiled.
"Maybe it is time to discuss what is in this deal for me?"
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