THE TRIAL OF GESH

Book Two in the Onyalum Series

By NB VanYoos

Smashwords Edition

Copyright ©2010 NB VanYoos

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Discover other titles by NB VanYoos at Smashwords.com.

The print version of this book is available through most retailers.

ISBN: 9780557085132 (pbk)

For more on the Onyalum Series:

www.onyalum.com

www.onyalumwars.com

This is a work of fiction. All the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Cover Art Credit:

NASA, ESA, HEIC, and The Hubble Heritage Team (STScI/AURA)

http://hubblesite.org/newscenter/archive/releases/2005/15/

This story is dedicated to the TOPS writing club whose continual support and goading has been instrumental in bringing this to life. Thank you, Jeff, Lesley, and Mary for your wonderful contributions on this project.

Table of Contents

Prologue

Eruption

Solitude

Give Us This Day

Visions

Into The Valley Of Death

Fear No Evil

Damned

Paradise Lost

Rewind

Besieged

Awakened

Glossary

dam·na·tion n

… the state of being damned.

Webster’s Ninth New Collegiate Dictionary, 1986, MERRIAM-WEBSTER INC., Springfield Massachusetts, USA

“Prepare for five thousand years until I return to live among you. Then I will purge evil from your world and bring abundance and happiness to the faithful. Fear not this return, for if you have faith and righteousness in your heart, you will be saved. But if you have no faith, and evil dwells in your heart, fear my return, for you will be damned.”

The Voice of Gamel, Preparations, Temple Scrolls of Malane, Book of Pretarchs (75 AG)

Prologue

O·ny·a·lum n[oh-nahy-uh-lum]

An ethereal spirit possessing the dead flesh of others : someone controlled without their consent : the state of being possessed.

The Galactic Book of Words, v5487, TELLUNE LIBRARY, Thosolan City, TELLUNE

Once a mid-level drug dealer in Los Angeles, Tyler’s fate was forever changed when a cosmic accident forever merged him with an ethereal being known as an Onyalum. Forced to leave the only world he ever knew, Tyler was threatened by the alien trying to take over the new entity he’d become. But Tyler fought the evil presence and won control.

Despite a newfound ability to travel instantaneously to anywhere within the Universe, Tyler was a lost soul. His despair nearly destroyed him until he met a friendly Creator who showed him change is inevitable within the Universe and not a cruel joke played out just for him.

Bolstered by this friendship, Tyler tries to find his place within the cosmos. While searching for intelligent life, he accidentally possesses the dying body of Admiral Nayllen Osloo, the Supreme Military Commander of a planet at war with a neighboring world. Tyler’s Onyalum spirit heals the dying Admiral bringing health and vigor to the new persona he assumes.

Poolto, the Admiral’s home world, has waged war with its neighbor, Krildon, for decades. When Tyler finds the Admiral, the hero has suffered a painful defeat after attacking the Krildon home world in an audacious offensive. Naive and inexperienced, Tyler quickly discovers he is ill equipped to deal with the military and political wrangling necessary to be a hero.

He awakens from a nine month coma to a planet no longer united under the ruling Emperor who feels threatened by the Admiral’s hero status. Tyler is forced to fight for the Admiral’s former power while preventing a final offensive that might destroy the entire planet.

As he comes close to winning back the Admiral’s power, the man’s supposedly dead father coerces Tyler into joining a conspiracy designed to overthrow the imperial rule to replace it with a democratic government led by the Admiral himself. He is no longer in control of his destiny and is torn between saving the Admiral’s family, the Admiral’s world, or his own humanity.

In a last ditch effort to escape the web of deceit, he gambles to turn the Emperor against his right hand man, Regent Sneerd. But the plan backfires as Krildon betrays the conspirators forcing the Emperor to betray the planet he has pledged to protect.

As the Krildon attack Poolto, Tyler discovers the Emperor and his Regent are both Onyalum when they turn off the defensive ring surrounding the planet, leaving it vulnerable to attack. With Poolto’s fleet disabled by the Admiral’s own command codes, the planet is defenseless against an enemy determined to end the war at any cost.

Billions die as Krildon weapons rain down on the major urban centers. Yooso, the capital city, is leveled with both the Emperor and the Admiral. Tyler is unable to cope with the destruction he has unwittingly unleashed. Freed from the bonds of the Admiral’s body, he lingers over the aftermath an angry and vengeful spirit. His soul simmers with hatred towards everything that has turned him into the awful being he has become. He swears vengeance on the Universe and violently turns his back on the only friend he has, the benevolent Creator, Thosolan.

Fleeing Thosolan in a fit of anger, Tyler unleashes an unholy rampage throughout the Universe as he tries to assuage the anger burning within like a cauldron of venom. He has lost all shreds of humanity and transformed into a demon of destruction. Can Tyler find the simple earthling he once was or will he suffer an eternity inside the gates of hell?

Eruption

Tyler Jensen crouches silently in the dark mist, the only sound the ever present moisture dripping from the overhead canopy. He rarely thought of himself as Tyler since that fateful day that changed his destiny forever.

After the destruction of Poolto, he’d fled in a fit of anger from the only friend he’d found since becoming an agent of destruction known as an Onyalum. The Creator Thosolan had extended a hand in friendship, and Tyler had rejected it in a cold and violent way.

Since then, he’d traveled the Universe taking countless lives to use their bodies for death and destruction. He’d lived within many civilizations, passing on his internal pain to all who got in his way. But the flames of his anger could not be quenched and he rampaged through the cosmos like a demon loose from hell.

The anger was a dagger in his side, and the hatred drove him to destroy and inflict pain on everyone and everything around him. He wanted them to feel his loss. He’d never asked to be transformed into the monster he’d become, and since that terrible day when he’d been forced into the Universe alone and frightened, his life and his soul had been poisoned by his inability to adapt to the new existence. He hated the Universe, its Creators, and especially the Onyalum he’d become.

Onyalum—those ethereal creatures that live outside the real Universe. Created without purpose, they lived through the vacant flesh of the dead they possessed, carrying out their malicious wills on the helpless creatures they hid among. Like vultures they’d wait, picking their targets carefully as the spirit fled in death. Then they filled the lifeless corpses with their unholy essence, bringing back the life of a changed and distorted person. Only then did an Onyalum have the power to affect the material creations of the Universe.

It was an Onyalum that changed Tyler—an Onyalum who called himself Adanni. He was still part of Tyler, a schizophrenic presence that wanted freedom and control. But Tyler had removed that threat. After his angry fit with Thosolan, Tyler had forced Adanni so deep into his subconscious, the alien was only a memory.

Tyler blamed Adanni for the pain and suffering he felt after becoming an Onyalum. It was Adanni who had transitioned blindly into Tyler so long ago, merging the two spirits into a single entity—an entity neither wanted. He blamed Adanni for the destruction of Poolto and the loss of the family he should have had. Adanni was the true cause for the uncontrollable anger that drove him to his malevolent path of destruction. It was Adanni who fed his wrath.

Tyler held only one other being in equal contempt—Nayllen Hooss, the power hungry weapons manufacturer on Poolto. After the fall of the Emperor, he’d become one of the most powerful men on that world, but at the cost of billions of its people. He’d betrayed Tyler, the Emperor, and his world, causing the destruction of nearly all the major city centers. Tyler, then Admiral Osloo, had followed the evil man, sheepishly walking into his web of lies and deceit—a victim of his own naiveté. Ultimately, it destroyed the Admiral and Tyler’s one chance at a normal life.

But he'd had no choice. Nayllen had threatened Tyler, threatened the Admiral's family, and threatened the Admiral's unborn child—Tyler’s child. Tyler felt he deserved to be a father, deserved a moment of happiness after everything the Universe had served him. But he was unfairly ripped from that dream before his son had been born. The child was delivered into a world that knew peace, but it was a diminished world forced to rebuild in the aftermath of near annihilation. Because of that destruction, Tyler held Nayllen Hooss in equal contempt.

Tyler’s naiveté helped cause the destruction of Poolto and now it turned him inward, twisting him into a malevolent ghost plaguing planets and stars. He’d transformed into a demonic madman, vengeful, uncontrolled, and determined to make the Universe pay for his suffering. He sought a way to make them all pay.

As Tyler crouched in ambush, his anger stirred restlessly while remembering those past events. At this moment, he was the tribal leader of a band of warriors fighting a competing species encroaching on their lands. Both species were intelligent and fought ruthlessly for the resources they needed to survive. Their battles were primitive but bloody, and it was the perfect world for Tyler to vent his anger.

After leaving Thosolan in a facsimile of Dale's Diner, Tyler had sped through the Universe spreading his own brand of Onyalum chaos and destruction. He’d become that very thing which he feared and loathed. Like all Onyalum, he sought worlds where he could reap his vengeance and he’d been surprised how easy they were to find. Perhaps the struggle for life was just a natural result of evolution, but Tyler didn’t think about such things. He only thought of death, anger, and destruction. The more the merrier, the bloodier the best.

Survival of the fittest was a universal truth Tyler operated by, and he was determined to be the fittest of all. He possessed countless beings during violent conflicts, taking over everything from foot soldiers to generals. The higher the rank, the more destruction at their disposal. And dispose Tyler did. Millions died from his vicious interventions, but his pain and anger were never quenched, so he continued killing on any world that strayed into his path.

Like the drugs he’d once bartered on Earth, he needed the violence—he fed off the gratification hand to hand combat provided, and he became adept at all its forms. He’d learned to avoid planets where technology was advanced and sterile, favoring primitive worlds where sweat and blood ran in rivulets across the battlefields. Computer controlled troops and precision bombing could not satisfy his cravings for death and destruction. He was addicted to gore, and only blood could fill the empty void that was his soul.

Early on, he’d taken over primitive animals, learning to hunt and kill for survival. But these bloody forays into the animal kingdom quickly lost their appeal as the primitive minds were too wired to instincts. Their lives became predictable and boring, and though the violence was real enough, the passion and anger was missing. After that, Tyler moved on to worlds that harbored intelligent beings capable of the wanton destruction his twisted mind desired.

This was one of those worlds, and after so many battles, he could no longer remember how long he’d been there. Many seasons had passed, and new generations ruled. He vaguely remembered the current generation when they nursed on their mothers. Over that time, he’d possessed various members of the tribe, steadily moving up through the ranks. Merciless and mindless, his fighting became legendary with peers and leaders.

When he felled a body in battle, he was quick to pick another, sowing destruction as a farmer a field. Through countless battles, he honed his skills, developing into the ruthless leader he was today. Combining his primitive strength with the advanced tactics of Admiral Osloo, he’d created one of the most fearsome leaders the tribe had ever seen. And they rallied behind his rage.

Tyler possessed the being once called Rock Root because of his unwavering and impenetrable fighting techniques. But after being uprooted during a battle early in his career, Tyler took over the dying hulk, bringing back a vigorous and more violent warrior. The tribe deemed Rock Root’s survival as a miracle of the forest spirits, but it was the powerful spirit of an Onyalum that brought back the failing flesh. Though the tribe worshipped this miracle as a gift from the gods, Tyler thought of it as destiny.

The wisdom and battle tactics Tyler brought to the young warrior quickly set him apart from his comrades. It wasn’t long before his tribal name changed from Rock Root to River Red. It was a name derived from the blood he shed during battle. On many occasions, the sounds of fighting ended with Tyler deep in a pool of blood, the shattered remnants of his enemies scattered about his feet.

His fellow warriors feared him and quickly learned to fight far from his side in any conflict. Several had fallen to his weapons while straying too close during the heat of battle. When River Red fought, he was a man possessed, and whether friend or foe, all would be felled if they found themselves too close to his ruthless weapons. Like a juggernaut, he bashed through enemy ranks, spreading fear and panic as they met their final moments. He was a legend, but the killing wouldn’t satiate his anger.

The mist grew thicker than normal, and Tyler used his uncanny sense of smell to visualize the battlefield ahead. He and his soldiers were further from home than they’d ever been, and Tyler knew it was an enormous gamble for the tribe. Without their warriors, the village was protected by only fearless women and brave young boys. If his gamble paid off, they would inflict heavy damage to the enemy, perhaps finally chasing them back to the plains of their birth.

His large nostrils inhaled deep breaths of air, but he couldn’t detect anything yet. They would come soon, Tyler was certain. His scouts had literally stumbled across a regularly traveled route between the enemy’s village and their staging areas. The hapless victims would soon prepare for battle, and the staging area would be their first stop. This time, however, they would find the battle much closer than expected. Surprise was what Tyler knew would win this battle.

River Red’s tribe was an indigenous species to the tropical rainforests covering much of the equatorial region. They’d evolved along similar lines as the highland gorillas of West Africa, eventually growing into a primitive society that spent their lives harvesting the bounties of the jungle. Before the war, their world had been peaceful and abundant until denizens of the distant plains spread like fire into the forest. They were a cancer infecting the highland forests, destroying most of what they found while consuming the rest. They wanted the jungle’s bounty and took all they could despite the costs.

Although both species were similar in evolution, the people of the plains had evolved far quicker than River Red’s. When they’d first encountered River Red’s people, they had called them Mist Monsters for their incredible size and ghostly stalking within the jungle. Though the plains people were easily outsized and outnumbered early on, they had an intellectual edge over the people of the forest. They quickly learned from their mistakes, and continually developed better strategies and newer weapons. Each time they returned, they brought these to bear on the people of the jungle. Unlike the forest dwellers, the people of the plains evolved by competing with large predators, and this gave them a far greater capacity to adapt and survive.

When Tyler found this world, the plains people had already established many villages dotting the edge of the jungle. From these fringe settlements, they established trade routes to feed and supply the plains with the rainforest’s bounty. They developed rudimentary farming and clear-cut large areas of the jungle to reap the benefits of the rich, volcanic soil. It wasn’t long before they parted the dark canopy and entered the world of the Mist Monsters.

River Red’s people did not think of themselves as monsters but called themselves the Chosen because of their intelligence above all creatures in the forest. It was their belief the forest spirits bestowed upon them the intelligence to care for the jungle and its inhabitants. They viewed themselves as protectors of the land, and protect they did. For as long as their people could remember, they’d lived in harmony with the jungle and feared anything that upset that delicate balance. The people of the plains upset that balance.

The Chosen called these plains people Achaaca after the small jungle insect that fed on the blood of others. Like the parasitic insect, the plains people fed on the jungle, stealing its life force, destroying the balanced harmony that existed. The Chosen would not allow this, and soon after discovering these invaders, war broke out between the two species.

Their battles were waged with primitive weapons since neither had developed basic metallurgy. They fashioned wood and stone into spears, arrows, and clubs, and though the weapons were crude, they were effective in close range combat. It meant bloody battles fought hand to hand in the darkest depths of the jungle.

Although there were many tribes of the Chosen protecting the forest, it was impossible to rally them into a united fighting force. Tyler had tried, but the Chosen refused to extend beyond their small villages. Despite this obvious setback, Tyler helped train many of the tribes so they could remain competitive in the face of their enemy’s changing ingenuity.

Tyler cared little for the land, politics, or religion; he only wanted the war. He’d carved a niche for himself with the forest denizens, and River Red was now spoken with reverence throughout the jungle. He was a living legend, and other tribes sent warriors to learn from his prowess. His presence had made a difference in their campaign against the Achaaca, and for the first time since Tyler joined this world, the Chosen were winning.

River Red’s tribe protected the lands between the plains and the Mountain of Fire to the south. The villages had been encroaching in this forbidden land, but at long last, the Chosen were on the verge of chasing the Achaaca from their protected lands. If Tyler’s ambush worked, the Achaaca villages would no longer have enough warriors to fend off a full scale attack. Because of that weakness, they would have no choice but to abandon their village and flee to the safety of the plains.

Tyler pulled a small leather satchel from his pocket and took a hefty sniff of a powdery substance. It was called donti and was used by the tribe for a variety of purposes. The warrior’s used it to heighten their senses during battle, the religious leaders used it in tribal ceremonies to commune with forest spirits, and the elder women used it to treat a variety of maladies, including infections from cuts and wounds—a serious problem in the jungle. The drug was made from the bark of a special tree common in the jungle, and it became an integral part of tribal life.

Tyler had no idea what was in it, but the effects were substantial. It was both euphoric and clarifying at the same time, and when Tyler first used it, he had the biggest rush of adrenaline he’d ever experienced. Despite being highly addictive, his use steadily increased to nearly twice that of other warriors. Under its dream-like influence, he fought like a demon.

He took another large pinch before returning the bag to his pocket. He knew his body size would likely prevent overdose, so he rarely thought about the negative effects of his addiction. As an Onyalum, he couldn’t die, so why worry about such things.

The Chosen were massive creatures, dwarfing every animal that inhabited the jungle. Though they walked upright, their arms were powerful and hung low on the body. Their bodies were proportioned similar to an ape’s with shorter legs, longer arms, and broad shoulders supporting a massive head that could withstand multiple blows. The extra length in their arms gave them a powerful edge during hand to hand combat, and with little effort, a Chosen warrior could throw an Achaaca twenty feet or further. It was their size and fierceness that ruled the jungle. They were formidable creatures that earned the ominous title Mist Monsters, but this physical advantage was counteracted by their inability to adapt quickly.

This was the Achilles’ heel the Achaaca learned to exploit. The Achaaca held an evolutionary advantage over the Chosen with their smaller size and adaptability to a changing world. They regularly modified tactics, creating new weapons and finding inventive ways to avoid the powerful bodies the Chosen possessed. It was this adaptability that ruled the plains, and they used it to remove or enslave any species that stood in their way.

Tyler knew the plains people would eventually dominate this planet, but he was willing to fight them as long as the Chosen held out. His anguish fed on the bloody conflicts waged through the jungle mist, and his warped mind thrilled at the hunt, relishing the pleasures of the kill. He’d found his home and he planned to stay as long as he could.

A slight change in temperature made Tyler re-focus on the jungle ahead. His nostrils searched for traces of the enemy, but so far, only old scents dominated the distant track. The breeze shifted slightly, and the change in direction gave Tyler and his men a distinct advantage. Most of his men were predominantly down wind and would detect the enemy long before they were detected.

Tyler was dressed for battle in a pair of shorts made from the leather of a small deer-like creature that was a mainstay of the Chosen’s diet. He wore no shirt, and his barrel chest, covered lightly with hair, didn’t provide protection. Around his neck, he wore a string of polished stones denoting his rank within the tribe, and slung over his back was a small shield made from a composite of leather, wood, and tree bark. The shields were a Tyler innovation necessary to protect them from the arrows the Achaaca now employed. He carried other weapons slung over his shoulder or stuck in small sheaths around his waist.

Unlike the Achaaca, the Chosen did not use bows and arrows, favoring chiseled rocks shaped like small disks with razor sharp edges. They were easier to wield in the jungle, and with The Chosen’s powerful arms, their speed and accuracy was unmatched by anything the Achaaca had in their arsenal. Tyler carried a standard set of six disks called Death Whistles by the Achaaca. They were named for the distinctive whistling sound they made during flight towards their victims. The sound was a siren of imminent death, and though the enemy used it to calculate enemy’s numbers, their quick deaths usually made the information useless.

Tyler also carried several knives of hard stone mounted in wooden hilts around his waist. He used these in close quarters combat after his primary weapon, called a Trogon, had been disabled. The trogon was crafted from a single piece of wood hardened by fire, and though it was slow to create, it withstood many blows while inflicting deadly wounds on the enemy. It was shaped like a large wedge and tapered at one end to a handle perfectly carved to the owner’s grip. Above and below the main bulk of the weapon, protrusions were carved to provide cutting and stabbing surfaces. When wielded by a trained warrior, the weapon cleared large swaths through enemy ranks. An additional bonus was it was too large for an Achaaca warrior to wield.

Tyler held his trogon at the ready, while gripping two death whistles prepared for flight. He was adept at throwing multiple disks and often took out several warriors with a single throw. The plan was to attack with a wave of death whistles, followed by a charge into the confusion that followed. Surprise was on their side, and Tyler figured the body count would be high.

His men were positioned in a semi-circle around one area of the discovered track, and though this new tactic was difficult for his men to learn, Tyler hoped they would wait the proper time to attack. The Chosen were linear thinkers, and full frontal attacks were their mainstay. New tactics were hard to assimilate and even harder to execute. Despite this, Tyler gambled they would carry out his orders.

The thrill of the pending battle pounded in his chest and his heart filled his ears with a rush of adrenaline. His heightened, drug induced senses painted a clear picture of the track that would soon run red with enemy blood.

River Red suffered many wounds during Tyler’s campaign, and across his sides, back, and chest, scars littered his body with mementos of past engagements. The only scar Tyler couldn’t claim credit for was across River Red’s face. A childhood friend had caused that scar while practicing with death whistles. Boys in the tribe learned battle skills early, and scars or even death were common during this training.

Absently, Tyler rubbed the scar on his face with the back of his hand. The broken flesh brought back memories of Rock Root and the incident that had caused the scar. Angry at his friend’s carelessness, Rock Root had nearly beaten the youth to death. These early signs of fierceness set Rock Root apart from his peers. He had been destined for greatness, and though he’d been cut down early in his life, Tyler brought him back from the dead to achieve his well earned reputation.

A large whiff of jungle air brought the faint smell of Achaaca, but Tyler judged they were still too far to attack. His two death whistles were the signal that would start the battle on the right flank. At that time, the right flank would loose their disks, dropping perhaps ten percent of the Achaaca warriors in that first wave.

Like The Chosen, the Achaaca carried shields to protect against the death whistles. However, so close to home, they would not be expecting and therefore would not be ready for the ambush. Some warriors would be quick to raise their shields, but many would not and would pay the ultimate price.

Meanwhile, the left flank would remain hidden until the right flank began its charge. At that time, they would let loose their death whistles, catching the Achaaca with their backs exposed. It was simple yet elegant, and the old Admiral inside smiled at its simplicity.

A wolfish grin spread across Tyler’s face as he used the very Achilles heel of The Chosen as a weapon against their enemy. The Achaaca would expect a single frontal attack leaving rear flanks undefended when Tyler’s left flank joined the battle. He felt confident the tactic would prove highly effective, if only once, but it hinged on his troops remaining patient for the proper signals. Either way, it would cause great confusion within the Achaaca ranks.

The smell drew nearer, and Tyler’s anticipation grew. He would bide his time and wait until the lead men were well past his direct position. At that time, he would attack the center of the line cutting them into two smaller groups. The beauty of forest fighting was troops had to move in long, thin lines through dense undergrowth. Even established tracks could never hold more than two men abreast, and this made it extremely easy for an attacker to split the bulk of the warriors into easily managed pieces. Tyler knew if the enemy could merge into a consolidated unit, they would be hard to assail.

His ears pricked at the sound of movement through the mist. His senses estimated fifty to sixty men stretched several hundred feet along the track. He was hoping most weren’t carrying their normal compliment of weapons as theory held those would be stored in their staging area. The smell was strong, but Tyler detected something different in the breeze. He couldn’t decipher what the change was, but he disregarded it to continue with the attack.

He heard leaders moving off to his right and he waited the requisite time to permit the line to move closer into position. So far, his troops were waiting for his signal, and as the sound of the last in line gave Tyler the needed information, he stood quietly and took aim. He couldn’t see his targets, but he knew how tall they were and aimed appropriately to inflict the greatest damage.

He threw his death whistles with incredible ferocity, and their sound shrieked through the forest air toward an unsuspecting enemy. Only a second after his release, the rest of the right flank hurled their disks into the darkness. The sound was a high-pitched war cry through the forest. Tyler heard the tell-tale sounds of disks hitting shields, but many found flesh. The distinctive sound as it sunk into the body was unmistakable, as was the thud of the body hitting the ground.

By now, the Achaaca were turned towards the right flank, their shields and weapons ready for the oncoming charge. Perfect, Tyler thought, we have their backs. He grabbed his Trogon firmly and let out a primal roar into the night signaling for the right flank to charge while the left flank released their death whistles. The enemy would realize too late their backs were exposed as yet another wave of deadly disks flew into their ranks.

Tyler had told the warriors on the left that the enemy would be crouched low behind their shields in preparation for the frontal attack. He hoped they would remember to aim low. Running through the undergrowth toward the distant track, he heard the satisfying screams as the second wave of death whistles sunk into the enemy’s exposed rears. Their numbers were now sufficiently reduced for a decisive battle.

Tyler was surprised there were no cries from the leader’s urging troops into battle formations. Had they been taken out by the Death whistles? It was too much to hope for, but surprise may have caught them off guard and unable to take proper cover. It didn’t matter, Tyler’s adrenaline pumped and he was ready to shed blood.

He came out of the dense undergrowth onto the enemy track and counted numerous bodies motionless on the ground. The disks had found their targets, and what remained huddled in confusion as the Chosen attacked from both sides. Tyler sprang into their midst, wielding his trogon like a battle axe. In a single blow he took out one warrior and severely wounded two others. They fell to the side like wheat and Tyler moved in quickly to finish them off.

All around, sound of wood on wood and stone on wood pounded through the forest as warriors met in hand to hand combat. The Chosen outnumbered the Achaaca, and the battle looked likely to end quickly as his men took out the remaining warriors.

Tyler dispatched four more warriors and was sizing up two when a whizzing brushed past his ear. In the heat of the battle, his mind mistook the sound for an insect. He ignored the sound as he moved toward the two warriors waiting to meet the legend. He lifted his trogon to strike a blow but suddenly felt a burning pain in his arm. He swung the trogon at the two warriors and took out one as the other blocked the blow with his shield. As Tyler pulled his arm back around, he noticed something thin and small sticking out from its back. It took a moment for him to realize it was an arrow.

Arrows, how can that be, they were on their way to the staging area? His mind raced at the implications and he paused to take stock of the situation. All around, Tyler heard the distinctive buzz as arrows flew through the forest into the fray. Tyler knew the archers were effective and searched with his senses to track down where they were located. He had it! The thrum of a bow as it released its deadly missile came from both ahead and behind. They were surrounded by archers!

Tyler didn’t have time to wonder why the enemy was so prepared for the ambush, but he quickly called to his troops informing them of the change in the battle. He urged them to crouch low and turn to charge the archers on both sides. On his command, they left the straggling enemy troops and made their way towards the nearest archers.

Tyler moved down the track in the direction of the enemy’s staging area and was happy to see most of the Achaaca slain from their initial attack. He had no idea how many warriors waited ahead, but the Chosen were too committed to stop the battle now. He ripped the arrow from his arm and tore down the path with his trogon held at the ready.

From the sounds ahead, the archers were spread in a thin line perpendicular to the forest track. He headed straight into the middle of this line as more of his men spread out to meet them head on. Arrows whizzed past and one grazed Tyler’s shoulder as the archers finally came into view.

As the Chosen bore down, the archers abandoned their bows and raised shields to block the initial attack. Tyler held his trogon like a battering ram and collided with the first archer in his path. The blow knocked the man back several yards as he stumbled to catch himself. Tyler quickly moved on the helpless warrior, trogon poised to strike the final blow.

Before he could deliver the final blow, two arrows sunk into his side. Though the Donti deadened the pain, the damaged muscles made arm movements difficult. His blow glanced off the haphazardly held shield, and he turned grabbing at the stinging rods protruding from his body.

The archer recovered and lunged at Tyler with a spear in one hand and the shield held high in the other. Tyler dodged the first attack, but as the warrior pulled back, the spear tip cut across Tyler’s waist. Again, he ignored the pain and raised his trogon to parry. Using his left foot as a pivot, he swung his body and the trogon around, landing a powerful blow squarely on the shield. The trogon caught the shield with a stabbing protrusion, and when Tyler pulled back for another strike, the shield came with it.

He ripped the shield away and moved on the warrior now defenseless on his back with spear held high. Tyler knocked the spear away with a backhand swipe as the man crawled backward to escape the deadly blow. The man twisted just enough for Tyler to miss the main body and clip only the right side.

The makeshift armor ripped to reveal naked flesh. Tyler pulled his trogon back to finish the man off but paused, surprised by what he saw. Underneath the warrior’s armor, the naked body contained ample breasts—female breasts. Even more confusing, two babies clung to the warrior, each with a breast in their mouth.

They were infant Achaaca carried by a female warrior. Tyler held the trogon motionless above his head, the vision hard to register through his battle focus. A woman warrior? The thought swam blankly through his mind. We have never met women warriors. The woman crawled away as she struggled to close the broken armor to protect her young.

Tyler froze in the face of the inexplicable vision, and every part of his life up to that point replayed through his mind like a movie in fast forward. The anger, the frustration, and the endless killing filled him with horror as he stared at the helpless Achaaca. Flashes of Linda and Toosia overlaid the absurd vision, softening his hardened heart and dowsing his unquenchable anger.

This was a woman, like Linda or Toosia, and he was poised to kill her and her babies. Babies! The very thing Tyler had been denied on Poolto. Could he do this? Could he kill them? Feelings of revulsion swept through him, and he backed from the poor creature, lowering his weapon in confusion.

The mayhem of the battlefield seemed distant and unreal as he surveyed the death and gore that littered the forest floor. Like a switch turning off, the raging inferno of Tyler’s anger was extinguished, and only an insignificant earthling remained. Was this the Tyler he knew? Was this the Tyler Linda had once loved? Would Toosia still love this madman on a mindless rampage? What had happened? Where had he gone wrong, and who was this demon he’d become?

Like waking from a nightmare, Tyler stood frozen by the horror surrounding him. He was paralyzed by the Achaaca woman and her young, and he dropped his weapon in disgust. A sickening chill spread through his body as he realized he’d become worse than any Onyalum. Not even Adanni could have wrought such savagery and ruthless violence. Tyler had become evil and he could no longer blame the alien inside.

He felt numb as the battle swirled through his vision of bloodied warriors downed by merciless weapons. Blood stained the ground, the trees, and the thick undergrowth of the jungle, and the legend of River Red stood amid it all suddenly repulsed.

The female warrior scrambled to her feet, confusion and desperation covering her face. She grabbed her spear catching Tyler lost in thought and with one swift motion, sunk it deep into his chest. Tyler stared dumbly at the protruding weapon as a detached part of his mind reveled such a small female Achaaca could land such a fatal blow.

Pain tore through his body as his Onyalum spirit fought the coming death. He felt his essence begin to separate from the body as the life force fled from the damaged heart. Tyler fought the inevitable release, willing each cell to resist the coming death. He willed his spirit to ignore the damaged flesh and replace it with life.

He fed his pain and anguish into the body, willing it to come back, willing it to live. Every part of his essence and every part of River Red’s body strained and boiled as he fought the force ripping him apart. Pain seared his soul as it spread to every part of River Red’s body. He felt the pending eruption as he convulsed, arching back in a losing battle.

He raised his arms one last time and released a roar that sent shock waves roiling through the jungle. The sound was desperate, painful, and forlorn, and all who heard it stopped fighting to seek the source of such a terrible cry. The Chosen watched helpless as their leader, hands and face raised to the sky, burned from within. Sparks and flames burst through his fur as the battle between the flesh and spirit waged.

Like that fateful day so long ago on Earth, Tyler was being torn from River Red’s body and pushed into the spirit world he loathed. He hefted all his pain and suffering upon that scream, venting the remnants of his anger into the thick, dark air. He longed for death, longed to leave the Onyalum existence behind and become nothing. But his curse denied him that wish. He was a demonic spirit, lost, alone, and filled with the pain and guilt of a man fallen farther than the depths of hell.

The warriors around him moved back as the flames from his body surged high into the night. The battle ceased as warriors stared in horror at the immolation of the great legend. River Red’s cries spread through the forest, filling his men with terror as they watched his defeat. What had happened? What would happen to them? They fled in panic, running from the evil magic they didn’t understand.

River Red dropped to his knees, his body a living torch, but Tyler wouldn’t let go. He refused to be released into that lonely void of the Universe. He fought with all his strength, but the laws of the Universe would not yield as a final explosion blew the body of River Red into a thousand glowing embers.

Tyler’s spirit hovered sullenly above the gory remnants of the fallen warrior, filled with shame and regret. His unquenchable anger had erupted, leaving only an empty husk. He hated what he’d become and desired escape from the existence he never chose. Was there no escape? Would his essence endure forever, outlasting countless civilizations? Would he even outlast the Universe? If his spirit could shed tears, he would have sobbed like the damned, but even that was denied. Only one escape remained for his desperate soul, the escape he’d relied on for years—drugs.

With one final glance at the gruesome scene below, he transitioned into the Universe a man without a soul.

Solitude

Tyler drifted through the Universe without direction. He wanted an escape—somewhere he could hide from the guilt that plagued him. He wanted to find a lost soul near death and resurrect their body to carry on his self-inflicted hell. That was his fate, a personal hell so rightly deserved.

He scanned memories for any worlds that might provide an escape, even considering returning to Poolto. But after being gone so long, he no longer cared to see that world. Everyone he’d loved would be dead—distant memories to haunt his eternal soul.

He even searched through Adanni’s memories, unsure how he’d accessed them. But he took advantage, searching many of the worlds where the alien had once been. He was instantly rewarded as a world drifted unbidden into his awareness. He quickly transitioned to the planet, floating above the spinning globe, but something nagged at his consciousness, so he paused in indecision.

The planet was unusual. The equator was wrapped with lush mountains tapering down to brown rocky plains spreading thousands of miles before ending at oceans to the north and south. The northern and southern hemispheres were mirror images of each other, both capped with icy poles. Tyler couldn’t remember any world spread out in the same way. Most were like Earth with drifting continents creating islands of landmass. This planet looked artificial, like a model a child might build.

Tyler turned to view the rest of the solar system and noted the planet’s axis was perfectly perpendicular to the ecliptic plane. The system only contained four planets around a relatively small sun, and the second planet out, the planet below him, didn’t possess a moon. Tyler didn’t care about that. If it contained intelligent life, it would suit his needs.

He focused his special vision on the boundary between the mountains and the plains, locating a small village tucked against the foothills. Considering the appearance of the squat buildings, he assumed the people were not technologically advanced. But that would also be fine. He transitioned to the small village just as the late day sun reflected fiery orange off the earthen structures. He was taken aback by the squalid buildings clustered on either side of a small track. Marks in the soil indicated they had at least discovered the wheel, but the village appeared deserted except for the wash lines of linens indicating someone lived there.

The houses were like mud igloos with a small door at the end of a vestibule opening into the structure. There were no windows, but a small chimney protruded from the back of the domed roof, and Tyler noticed puffs of smoke billowing from several of the chimneys. Each house was identical to the others with only their position in the village a distinguishing mark. They were obviously made from the earth of the surrounding hills as their reddish colors matched the ruddy streaks running throughout the landscape.

What appeared like plains from space looked more like desert up close. Tyler had randomly chosen the southern hemisphere, and from his position above the village, the mountains to the north rose to craggy, snowcapped peaks towering thousands of feet above the desert floor. Only rock and reddish dirt spread out from the village to the southern horizon, and everywhere Tyler looked, sparse vegetation eked out a miserable existence in the sterile landscape. It reminded him of Mexico.

The village consisted of ten houses, no fences, and nothing to indicate trade or commerce. Considering the barren landscape, Tyler wondered how the inhabitants survived. Why didn’t they live higher in the mountains among the lush vegetation? To travel into the mountains from the desert could take days, so it seemed unlikely they survived that way. Puzzled, Tyler stayed to see what the people looked like.

Since becoming Onyalum, he was no longer surprised by the look of alien creatures. Evolution was fairly consistent throughout the Universe, and Tyler found the similarities between worlds usually outweighed the differences. Though every species was unique, he could still find human-like qualities in most. They usually walked upright, though not all. They usually developed from a predator, though not all. Most developed societies plagued by conflict and war, though not all. He saw common patterns everywhere he went and no longer wondered what differences might exist. They would all have emotions, and they would all feel pain.

Movement to Tyler’s left drew his attention. He focused on an area overlooking the village in the foothills and spotted another building nestled between large boulders stuck into the hillside. It wasn’t shaped like the houses in the village, and the large wooden entrance soared to the height of the building.

It was the movement of the doors that had caught Tyler’s attention, and he watched fascinated as a congregation of people filed onto the hillside. He estimated about thirty people ranging from children to adults making their way back to the village. Each wore brown shirts and pants, and all wore white caps on their heads. It reminded Tyler of the Jewish caps people had worn on Earth. He couldn’t remember what they were called, but he remembered several customers wearing them while making purchases. Apparently, the cap was excellent at eliminating suspicion.

Most of the children took theirs off as they ran down the hillside chasing each other in a makeshift game of tag. The adults walked in tight clusters, talking profusely as they followed the path worn into the hillside from years of use. They were primitive people, but like the Chosen, they followed predictable lives.

Tyler moved in to get a better look. They walked upright, but were small and squat. Their walking looked more like waddling as their short legs struggled with a normal gait. Up close, the faces were narrow, almost weasel-like, and it was an odd disparity between the thin faces and their squat bodies. Small ears were placed on either side of the head, and underneath the caps, Tyler could make out hair, or maybe it was fur. The skin was brown, but the nose was clearly darker, nearly black. Their hands lacked hair or fur, so Tyler assumed it was more prominent on the head, typical for many evolved species. The nose and mouth protruded outward from the thin face, but the teeth looked human. He almost expected fangs or large canines, but when they spoke or smiled, their appearance was more human than animal.

They looked happy and content, something Tyler wanted to avoid. He’d been looking for something more desperate and depressed, but despite this, he lingered above the hillside while the congregation marched past on their way to the village. He turned up the hillside, eyeing the structure to determine its purpose. He assumed it was the equivalent of a town hall, and they’d just completed a meeting to discuss matters of import. But the distinctive architecture of the building conflicted with the huddled houses below. This structure bespoke something far more advanced.

He transitioned to the entrance and was startled as another creature came out of the dark shadows. Unlike the people moving down to the village, this one wore clothing the rusty color of the dirt hillside. On his head, he wore nothing, and little hair protruded from his dark brown skull. He was squat, fat, and old.

The old man swung the large doors closed, locking them with a key dangling from a rope around his neck. Tyler was impressed the old, diminutive creature had the strength to close such enormous doors. Perhaps they were strong despite their size. It wouldn’t be the first time Tyler found a species with that characteristic.

The man tucked the key beneath his robes and walked to the start of the downhill path. He paused briefly, watching the villagers near the bottom, but instead of following, he turned right around the large boulders working his way uphill.

Tyler was puzzled. Perhaps the man didn’t live in the village? Was he the caretaker? Maybe he was their leader and lived, like many leaders, overlooking his domain. Tyler wasn’t certain, but decided the old man was more interesting than the quaint village.

Despite the man’s size, he easily made his way up the steep slope behind the large structure. As he moved up the hill, Tyler noted the landscape grew harsher with the prickly scrub of the desert replaced with nearly solid rock. The rocks were brown with large streaks of the reddish hue so common to this world.

Though Tyler couldn’t see a defined path, the man moved as if from years of experience. He chose a path through the boulders often climbing over instead of between. He was sure footed and quick, and it belied his apparent age. Like the other people Tyler saw, the man didn’t wear shoes or coverings despite the harsh landscape. The man never flinched, so Tyler assumed his feet were thickly padded for the rugged conditions. Tyler counted five fingers and toes on the hands and feet which appeared like larger versions of a human’s. None of the digits possessed claws, but human-like nails were visible against the dark skin. The man reminded Tyler of a midget he’d once seen at a comedy club in Los Angeles.

As the man crested the top of the hill, he picked up a clearly defined path along the ridge heading west. Tyler’s curiosity was still piqued, so he followed the tiny fellow. He was amazed how quick the old man moved considering their strange, awkward gait.

Tyler surveyed the surrounding hills but saw no structures in any direction. They were far from the village, now obscured by the rocky outcrops, and wherever the man was headed, he was in a hurry. The sun was near setting, and Tyler assumed the man wanted to beat the approaching darkness. Considering the steep, rocky paths, Tyler understood his desire to avoid the night.

Tyler fell back as he surveyed the surrounding land, and was about to catch up when the man veered right into the side of a cliff. Tyler was confused and moved to the spot where he’d disappeared. Hidden from view, a small crevice in the solid rock was just large enough for a person to squeeze through. If you didn’t know it was there, you would easily miss it. He transitioned inside the crevice that opened into a vast cavern with a winding path moving downward.

Tyler was amazed at the beauty inside the rocky enclosure. He’d never been inside a cave, and though he’d seen them on television, he was stunned by the stalactites and stalagmites littering the ceiling and floor. Many met in the middle to form large columns rising hundreds of feet to the ceiling overhead. Though Tyler’s Onyalum vision could see in the dark, the interior surfaces glowed with a faint green light. He couldn’t tell what caused the strange light but guessed some sort of phosphorescent mold or algae.

The ghostly light created a dreamlike world Tyler couldn’t stop admiring. Falling behind once more, he quickly caught up with the man making his way through the maze of columns in the dim glow. The old man moved steadily deeper into the cavern as the path sloped into the depths. Where was he going? Was this cave his home?

They passed through another opening and Tyler spotted bright light leaking in from the other side. He followed the old man into a smaller cavern where outside light lit the path brightly as they neared the end of the cave. It was another entrance to the catacombs and the small man emerged into a combination of daylight and deep shadow.

They were on the backside of a cliff deep inside a long canyon carved through the mountain. The walls were smooth as if water had once run through the dry canyon and they, too, displayed the mottled, reddish color. But here, the exposed rock layers of colors appeared as if an artist had painted them. The walls admitted only a few rays of light to penetrate the gloom, and it gave the canyon a cathedral-like feeling. In that setting, Tyler couldn’t help thinking of the little man as a monk. Perhaps he was off to evening prayers?

The man moved deeper into the shadows as Tyler wondered how long they’d been moving. He assumed the man wouldn’t return to the village that night, and if he was a leader, which Tyler now doubted, he lived far from his people.

A flickering in the distance caught Tyler’s attention as he spotted a small fire lighting the vaulted walls with reds and oranges. The final rays of sunlight faded, and stars peaked through the dim twilight. The canyon grew dark but the man continued his steady march toward the fire.

Tyler used his Onyalum vision to zoom in on several people engaged in heavy conversation while drinking from clay bottles next to the fire. To the right of the blaze, light emanated from the canyon wall, and Tyler realized there was another opening in the rock.

He transitioned to the fire without waiting for the old man to complete the trek. Though he couldn’t hear conversations, he wouldn’t have understood them anyway. Each turned toward the old man as he neared the glowing firelight, and they raised their bottles in welcome, beckoning him to join.

The man stopped briefly to shake hands and exchange platitudes, but he graciously declined the offered bottles, indicating with sweeping hands he was going inside the cave. He made his farewells and moved into the light shining brightly from the rock wall. Fascinated by what might be inside, Tyler followed the man through the opening.

A short rocky passage led to a cavern smaller than the first cave, but rising thirty feet or more. The walls glowed with the mysterious green light, but mounted throughout the interior, lights shaped like vases provided an intense brightness compared to the feeble glow. No smoke rose from the lights, so Tyler assumed they were not burning coal or other natural materials. However, it was bright enough to fill the dark cavern with a sense of cheer despite the slightly claustrophobic setting.

Tables carved out of rock and mineral deposits were filled with people deep in conversation. Cups, bottles, and pipes dominated the crowd as they mingled and conversed in the cozy cavern. Tyler couldn’t believe his luck; he’d found a primitive bar on this desolate planet. He’d been losing hope, but now he felt at home.

The old man weaved through the tables to the back of the cavern where another passageway led deeper into the cave. Tyler followed, eyeing the drinks with envy. All he needed was a dying body, but everyone looked healthy considering their carousing. There was a generous mix of males and females, and many of the females sat on men’s laps with arms wrapped around necks. Tyler wondered if this were more than a bar. Perhaps a brothel?

He grew excited at the prospects since foregoing physical pleasure during his rampage through the Universe. He’d traded those feelings for the violent power inherent on the battlefield, and memory of that lost intimacy made Tyler anxious with renewed desires for one of the great pleasures of life. He abandoned the cavern and followed the man into the dark passage past rooms carved out of the solid rock. Doorways on either side of the corridor beckoned with imagined fantasies, but Tyler couldn’t tell what truly lay beyond. The small man ignored them as he worked his way farther down the twisted path.

At last, the passageway ended at an entrance guarded by two solid looking men. Each wore dreamy looks in their eyes, and Tyler instantly recognized clear signs of drug use. Instead of a door, a large tapestry separated the passageway from the room beyond. Woven into the tapestry, intricate designs of people in various positions of carnal knowledge formed a random mosaic. For Tyler, it was the holy grail of cave art as it indicated the purpose of the room.

The two men nodded to the small man as he passed through the tapestry and into the darkened room. Tyler was curious to see what pleasures it entertained as he entered the tapestry covered walls of forbidden pleasures. The ceiling was a low dome similar to the houses in the village but filled with the same green glow as the rest of the caves.

A couple lights adorned the walls and lit the room dimly. On the floor, rugs and furs covered the hard rock, softening the primitive cave with an atmosphere of leisure. A thick, blue haze hung in the air from some unknown source. Across the room, a naked woman danced slowly in a dreamy trance to music which Tyler couldn’t see a source. At her feet, three other bodies writhed in a sexual frenzy that disgusted Tyler despite his renewed interest. He made out a male and a female, but couldn’t determine the sex of the third one buried underneath.

The little old man stood at the entrance observing the promiscuity as if judging while cringing in horror at the orgy before him. Tyler had to admit, though anatomically similar to humans, the scene reminded Tyler of pigs in a wallow, and it wasn’t attractive.

On the left side of the room, a small alcove carved into the rock wall was filled with soft cushions and furs. Inside this nook, a form shifted luxuriously. The body was naked, and Tyler could clearly tell it was a female. She wore a strange tangle of wood and ribbon on her head, and Tyler imagined she was likely the proprietor of this house of ill repute.

Everything about this place was in stark contrast to the small village the old man had left behind. But despite that contradiction, the old man was mesmerized by the temptations around him. The woman moved out of her alcove and beckoned for him to join her. Nervously, he made his way toward her as she sat back spreading her legs in welcome. The man moved with purpose, stripping his clothes as he entered her warm embrace.

Tyler was stunned by the old man being consumed within her legs. She held tightly for some time, though Tyler felt certain they weren’t having sex. Finally, she released him and reached for a small pipe from the back of her cubby. She loaded it with a combination of black sludge and white powder before handing it to the man and grabbing a burning candle from a small recess.

Tyler was entirely engrossed as he realized he’d found that which he’d been searching for. He’d found an opium den, complete with prostitutes, and the prospects of self-abuse and erotica brought Tyler’s attention to its fullest. It would be the perfect escape from his insignificant Onyalum existence. All he needed was someone to die and release their spirit so he could replace it.

The old man inhaled deeply from the dark blue smoke, and his face instantly changed from nervousness to ecstasy. The woman held him throughout, pulsating as he hit the pipe again and again. The scene excited Tyler, and he yearned for the opportunity to experience the euphoric sensations the small man enjoyed.

His eyes glazed as he entered a dream-like trance similar to those within the room. The woman released him, and he moved sleepily toward the writhing orgy on the floor. He joined the dancing female, and both fell on a large fur, embracing each other in a sexual frenzy.

* * * *

Tyler left the little man to his escapades. Despite the desire to participate, he was put off by the activity without the dulling effects of drugs or alcohol. It was the addiction he wanted more than physical pleasures and having it so close yet so far only increased his frustrations.

He searched the patrons within the main cavern for any ready to leave the earthly bonds of flesh for the spirit world. But all were healthy, and anger rose to the surface, threatening to send him back into the cosmos. So close—he could nearly taste the smoke that taunted him with the promise of escape.

Hours wore on, and people shuffled out to return to their desolate lives on the desert plains. Tyler followed several for a while but lost interest as they easily made their way back home. He began to sense he’d have to wait days, weeks or even years to find some hapless soul ready to die. It was ghoulish even for an Onyalum, but he wouldn’t be denied the sins of the flesh, even if that meant the loss of an innocent life. Then again, he wouldn’t exactly call these people innocent.

He hovered near the ceiling of the cave as the last of the patrons headed into the night. Only the bar maids remained, cleaning the mess from the evening’s festivities. He was ready to leave, patience no longer possible, when the awkward movements of the strange little man emerged into the cavern from the back passageway.

The old man was unsteady and his eyes wore the lifeless expression Tyler had seen in the room of temptation. Obviously, he was still in the grips of the narcotic as he stumbled into a table knocking over several cups. The woman cleaning the table looked at him with concern and tried to help him stand up as she asked if he were fine. He shrugged her off violently and backed away shaking his head before knocking over another table.

Refusing help, he picked himself up and stumbled once more toward the entrance, waving off the staff who appeared genuinely interested in his welfare. Tyler followed him into the night where the entrance fire now simmered as glowing coals. A cold wind blew through the empty canyon kicking up dust and ash from the dying fire. The little man stubbornly pulled his cloak tight about him as he pushed into the blackness on auto-pilot.

Tyler followed him as he stumbled left and right while continuously making forward progress. Tyler flashed back to his life on Earth and the multitude of parties where he’d stumbled aimlessly into streets or onto beaches. He vividly recalled feelings of invincibility as he’d also waved off help from concerned clients. Extreme intoxication warped the mind, distorting the world around you while turning ordinary people into extraordinary idiots.

Looking down at the helpless man, Tyler felt guilt at his own failings that brought him to that same delirious state many times before. He was disgusted by his past while desperate to repeat it—a dichotomy he couldn’t resolve. Guilt, loss, and an overwhelming sense of unfairness drove him to the self destruction of the man below. He was not able to die, but he could bring the flesh close to the precipice. If only I had flesh! He thought sullenly, watching the man continue the long journey without incident.

The man stumbled and fell to the ground motionless, but Tyler held back hopes. He watched the lifeless body, waiting for the tell-tale signs of the spirit leaving the flesh. If he saw it, he would replace that lost spirit with his own Onyalum essence, bringing back life.

Nothing happened.

His frustration peaked as he desperately wanted to kill the little man by squeezing the life out of him! Damn you, die!

Curses had little effect as the man slept off the effects of heavy narcotics. Suddenly he stirred, moving slowly, but deliberately, raising himself unsteadily before lurching down the canyon stumbling left and right once more. With little else to go on, Tyler followed the man helplessly, his resolve to see him die stronger than his unwillingness to wait.

It seemed like days before the man emerged from the cave onto the ridgeline leading back to his village. The cold night air sobered the old man, and his walk held more purpose and less wobbling. Tyler sighed. The man was clearly not going to die tonight. As was so common with drunks, some watchful force kept them safe when they were most vulnerable, and Tyler was well too acquainted with this phenomenon.

He followed the man anyway, curiosity about his role in the community enough to hold interest. He had no idea when he might find the opportunity to take over someone, but he knew the odds of finding another suitable planet were slim. Better to stay with a known quantity than blindly search the Universe.

The old man finally came to the steep, boulder strewn hillside that descended to the immense building stuck between the desert and the mountains. Unsteady on his feet, the man miraculously climbed the dangerous hill, easily clearing boulders while picking his unknown path. Tyler became bored with the descent and left the man to wait outside the building’s entrance.

The enormous doors remained closed as the darkness indicated the place was empty. Although Tyler was certain he could blindly transition inside, he decided to wait for the old man. The night was clear, and with no moon to obscure the sky, stars burned brightly. Tyler ignored their sparkling beauty as they only served to remind him of his body-less existence.

He stared down at the squalid village where a few buildings leaked light through the small windows cut into the front doors. The chimneys glowed red from interior fires providing warmth for the sleeping occupants. Apparently, not everyone slept. He wanted to abandon the old man and search the village but decided to check on the man’s progress.

He transitioned onto the hillside but saw only boulders and dark crevices. Moving farther up, he was certain the man was hiding in one of the dark shadows cast by the large boulders. Nothing.

Okay, little man, where have you gone?

He swept the hillside back and forth, moving higher as he climbed. Still the old man eluded him. Tyler couldn’t believe he’d disappeared so quickly considering his state of intoxication. Had he gone into the hills? Had he gone somewhere else? Maybe he had a hidden entrance to the building—a back door? Perhaps he didn’t live in the building at all but somewhere nearby?

Tyler was confused, but kept searching, unsure why he was so determined. The man was clearly capable of taking care of himself despite the intoxication, so why try to find him? He figured the best move would be to head into the village, and maybe the old man would turn up having slipped past him in the dark.

He was ready to abandon his search when he caught a glimpse of something light against the black of a boulder. As Tyler moved closer, he saw the man’s body lying motionless, wedged between two large rocks. Was the man sleeping off the orgy yet again or did something more serious happen? Considering the man’s position, Tyler assumed he had fallen from the larger, uphill rock onto the smaller one below.

Tyler couldn’t tell if the man was alive or dead, but he noted a pool of blood forming near the head. That was never a good sign and Tyler assumed he had missed his one opportunity to retake the flesh of a dying body.

A flickering light at the base of the hill caught Tyler’s attention and he spotted two torches dancing through the darkness as they made their way up the hillside. Were they looking for the old man, or had they simply been going somewhere anyway? Tyler couldn’t tell, but they moved with purpose and speed.

He wanted a better look, but a dark shadow moving to his left drew his attention from the people. The shadow darted smoothly in and out of the rocks, moving steadily toward the fallen body. Was it a predator, or some sort of scavenger ready to make a meal out of what remained of the little man? Tyler couldn’t tell as it moved in a blur through the scattered boulders. Its speed through the darkness would bring it to the body long before the searchers below.

Tyler was fascinated by the change in events. The torches moved slowly while the dark shape neared the lifeless body. Tyler couldn’t tell how many limbs it had, but the movement made it appear like it ran on all fours. The shape easily cleared the last few boulders and leapt out of the darkness onto the lifeless body.

Tyler was impressed. Its size was three times larger than the old man, and its body was covered in a black fur lying flat against the body except on the crown where it stood straight in a crest. The body was thin and long, carried on four spindly legs that didn’t match the dexterous movements Tyler had observed. The creature was tall as it rested on all fours.

The head was a large oval with cheeks sticking further out of the face than the chin below. Although the mouth was shut, Tyler thought he could see sharp canines protruding from the black lips. Small ears sat upon its head shifting ceaselessly trying to catch the sounds that might indicate threat … or game.

The dancing lights of the searchers caught its attention, and it turned red eyes towards the two people moving through the boulder field. With ears pricked to the distant torch bearers, the creature looked like a large cat ready to pounce. Tyler assumed it would move to intercept the rescuers, favoring fresh meat instead of dead flesh, but it remained, silently watching the lights dance among the rocks.

Finally, it turned to the lifeless body and reached out a large paw. Claws slid out of hidden sheaths and delicately tore open the man’s shirt, exposing a chest without cuts or signs of trauma. Tyler assumed the creature would rip into the soft flesh, engorging itself on an opportune meal, but it moved closer, dropping its head as if to smell the body.

It sniffed from head to toe before turning the old man over and repeating the process. It was an odd activity that Tyler believed was part of some strange eating custom for that species. Maybe the creature wouldn’t eat dead flesh or was simply trying to determine if any life remained. Then again, creatures often wouldn’t eat diseased flesh and might check a body to ensure disease wasn’t the cause of the untimely demise. Either way, Tyler thought the creature unusually cautious.

A part of Tyler waited for the gruesome feast to begin as memories of predatory lives filled his mind. The thrill of the hunt and the satisfaction of a meal was a powerful sensation, and despite turning bored with it after a short period of time, the memory gave Tyler a momentary thrill. But the creature moved off, leaping to the large rock above as the rescuers finally neared the dead body. The creature stood silhouetted against the starry sky as though it wanted to be seen. The torches stopped, as one person pointed to the dark form poised overhead.

Despite the creature’s ominous presence, both searchers moved deliberately toward it, scrambling with their torches as they climbed over the rocky ground. Tyler was mystified. The creature hadn’t eaten the man, and seemed almost compelled to help the searchers locate his lifeless form. What kind of creature would do that? It was both strange and compassionate at the same time.

The searchers reached the fallen man and quickly moved to his aid. They turned the body back over inspecting the wound on his head while searching for other signs of trauma. They removed the shirt and stared in horror at the tears down the front and back. Both looked up the hillside questioningly, but the creature had quietly disappeared into the darkness.

Up close, Tyler saw small breasts underneath the blouse of one of the searchers, and he assumed it was a woman. The other appeared to be male, and both were much younger than the old man they helped. Tyler couldn’t tell what she was doing, but he assumed she was searching for a pulse. She must have found one as she quickly conferred with the man who moved back down the hillside leaving her with the limp body.

Tyler’s luck may have changed, the man wasn’t dead.

* * * *

It took time before the other searcher returned with multiple torch bearers in his wake. Tyler counted five adults and what must have been two adolescent males. Eventually, the group was able to move the old man’s body down to the village and into one of the small igloos. Tyler followed, uncertain whether an opportunity to take the flesh would present itself.

If the man was alive, it was plausible he might yet die considering the deadly gash on his head. The world didn’t appear medically advanced, so a serious wound might prove fatal. However, Tyler hoped it wouldn’t be so fatal that he couldn’t revive it with his Onyalum essence. His spirit was strong, but even it had limits. Still, there was hope.

The old man lay on a small bed within the tight confines of the igloo shaped structure. The building was small with wall hangings partitioning the interior space into separate rooms. The vestibule opened into a main living room with a small kitchen near a fireplace on the right. The rest of the space was separated into two bedrooms and a small washroom in between. It was an efficient use of the cramped confines and created a cozy feeling.

The woman tended the small man who looked more dead than alive, but she dutifully removed bandages every hour, cleaning the wound and replacing it with a fresh covering slathered in a goopy material she’d mixed in a large wooden bowl. Tyler had been on plenty of primitive worlds to know the goop might contain great healing properties. Still, he continued to wait. He wanted this slim chance to experience the pleasures the old man had, and after following him all night, he even felt close to the lifeless body.

People from the village brought food for the rescuers while tending to the old man. Either he was important, or the village was a tight knit community that pulled together in times of crisis. Tyler wondered if they knew what the man had done earlier in the evening. He assumed their hospitality would not be so generous if they’d seen the drug induced orgy the little man had participated in with men and women far younger than himself.

Light crept through the small window in the front door as the exhausted woman continued her ministrations well into the morning. Tyler believed the woman was either the village healer or a close relative of the old man. Whatever the relationship, she put a great deal of effort into his care, and Tyler began to worry she would heal the broken man.

He hovered by the bed, waiting, watching, and hoping for something he could exploit. Like a fiend waiting to take the poor soul to hell, he watched for his only chance to live. He thought back to the cavern bar and the intoxicating spirits the patrons had enjoyed. That was why he remained, because that was what he needed, a chance to lose himself to the euphoric world of narcotics.

Memories of his former life filled him with nostalgic cravings for the never ending parties that had consumed him. He’d supplied the who’s who of Los Angeles and kept parties going with mixes of narcotics only the rich could afford. He’d loved that life, and enjoyed the prestige, even when he’d been ready for change. No one was a better advocate of his products, and as a regular user, he was well versed in the effects, both good and bad. He wanted that life again, to taste the false pleasures of the next high. If not this poor man, then someone—he wouldn’t be denied his escape!

Loss was his mantra. Earth had been taken away, his girlfriend lost, a world destroyed, and worst of all, a child denied. The losses turned him into a demon, unleashing its anger and frustration on the innocence of the Universe. Now, only shame drove him back to the self abuse he’d once known.

Tyler was suddenly alerted as the old man jerked, arching back in spasms of pain. His body fought against the pending death, and Tyler grew excited as the woman pulled off covers to push him down onto the bed. He writhed uncontrollably as she struggled to keep him from falling off, while yelling to the young man in the other room for help.

Both grabbed the flailing body, forcing it down while sweat drenched the underclothes and bedding. Finally, the body arched one last time before falling limp with limbs splayed in all directions. The young couple, tired from their exertions, leaned heavily on the bedside for support while staring silently at each other, the fear of death written on their faces.

Tyler remained close, watching for the telltale signs of a fleeing spirit. The people would never see that ethereal mist, but to an Onyalum, it was like a beacon in the night. The man’s chest no longer moved, and a glowing cloud rose from the body as his soul escaped the confines of the flesh. Tyler moved close, fascinated by the glowing spirit ready to return to the Universal fabric from which it had come. Though beautiful and mysterious, he was ready to replace it and struggle for life in the dying body.

As the mystical soul fled, it flew through the ceiling into the starry night above. On cue, Tyler felt the familiar pull as the body captured his spirit, dragging it into the dying flesh. He felt the darkness of unconsciousness threaten him, but he fought to resuscitate the weakened flesh. Over the years, he’d become attuned to the various constituents of flesh, detecting a body’s damage, and feeding life force back into the failing parts. Although it wasn’t a precise process, he had some success controlling it, bending it to his needs.

He knew the power of the Onyalum spirit was strong, and it often brought back a dead body. But it, too, had limits and couldn’t always provide the essential forces necessary for survival. So Tyler fought. He fought those limits that prevented him from bringing life into the broken flesh as he sought the darkness that clung to the body like a bruise or sore. Using his will, he massaged the damaged area, feeding the needed life force into the flesh in hopes it would be repaired.

He had varying degrees of success while doing this, although it had failed with River Red in those final moments. Still, he held onto the faith he would succeed, and believed one day he could bring back any body from death. Attainable or not, it was a goal, that if achieved, would assure him an immortal life in a mortal body.

He felt a tingling of success as the flesh responded to his efforts. Life force was being restored, and the damaged body was healing, if only enough to survive. Tyler knew his spirit would bring more than just life—it would bring health and vigor beyond the old man’s years. This was the power of the Onyalum over flesh.

He would survive, so Tyler ceased his efforts and succumbed to unconsciousness. He would sleep a long, needed sleep, while dreaming a mixture of his life, the life he’d possessed, and the lives of all those he’d once been. It wasn’t always restful, but it was an escape from the reality he loathed.

Give Us This Day

The sound of a softly played flute interrupted Tyler’s dinner with Emperor Yooso and his old boss, Raul. Although it seemed odd he would be dining with both people from two different worlds, the conversation had turned to maintaining power, and Tyler was fascinated by the approach each man applied to the problem.

But the damned flute wouldn’t stop playing, and since he alone heard the melancholy notes, he excused himself to track down the melody. Was it Thosolan playing with him again? Tyler didn’t believe the Creator would summon him so soon after his previous encounter and he couldn’t remember any flutes that Thosolan could have resurrected from his past.

The music appeared to come from the back of a dark closet in the rear of the kitchen. While the kitchen staff ignored his investigation, he opened the closet door and felt blindly for a light switch. Of course, there wasn’t one. Despite the darkness, he stepped inside as the sound of the flute grew louder yet more distant. The door suddenly closed with a slam, and what little light there’d been disappeared into the darkness.

“Anyone there?” He asked tentatively.

No reply.

The flute played on, and Tyler was mesmerized by its fluid rhythms and soulful sounds. He was not familiar with instruments, except those in most rock bands, but he thought this sounded Native American or Asian.

From the dim recesses of his mind, he vaguely remembered something similar during a family trip to Utah when he was a boy. His family had stopped at a tourist trap specializing in Native American art and music, and although his memories of those past events weren’t strong, he remembered an Indian playing a flute outside the gift shop. The haunting melodies were designed to pull in tourists intent on discovering the strange and exotic sounds.

The music drifting through the darkness was similar, and he wondered if the same Indian was playing it. A strong sense of déjà vu pulled at his mind, and he desperately needed to see who was playing the haunting songs from his childhood memories. But the damned darkness held him firm. He pushed into the back of the closet, surprised there weren’t any walls. Nonetheless, movement was difficult and he struggled to make progress. But he continued to push, fighting as the music became a quest, a mission to rediscover his past, to rediscover Earth.

The sound drew near, and Tyler pushed one last time against the invisible bonds that held him back, finally breaking free of their restraint. In a sudden rush of light and sound, Tyler was freed from the closet and woke on a hard bed staring at a ceiling made from dirt.

It took a moment to clear his head and remember where and who he was.

The old man. He thought lazily. I’m in a village igloo recovering from death.

Although taking other lives was second nature, he held off integrating the man’s memories into his own. He wanted to lie quietly and just listen to the gentle flute playing in the outer room. Tyler assumed it was either the young man or woman who’d found the old man, but Tyler’s position on the bed hid the other rooms from view.

The music was soft and slow with a hint of melancholy that tugged at his soul. Now that he was awake, he vividly recalled the old Indian playing similar music outside the gift shop in Utah. It brought back a flood of memories and emotions, both good and bad, and Tyler nearly cried with remembrance. Although his childhood had never been harsh, it represented the lone part of his life when his family had been an important part of his existence.

After his parents divorced, he’d begun to drift from the family, seeking intimacy through friendships and drugs. He often wondered whether his parents had thought about him after his disappearance. Prior to the accident, he’d not spoken with either for a long time, and they probably assumed he was already dead. Maybe Linda had contacted them after he died. Since he’d left no remains to bury, would they have held a funeral? Would they have mourned him? He doubted it.

The music stopped and Tyler heard someone leaving through the building’s single entrance. All was quiet, and Tyler relished the sensations life provided once more. He could hear and feel, something you took for granted until they were gone. Was his hatred of the Onyalum existence based on the lack of his senses? It was one thing to see, but to see without sound or touch was like being trapped in a silent movie you could neither stop nor interact with. It was the ultimate loneliness, and Tyler feared it with a passion.

He took a deep breath of the sweet air, but the action brought on a fit of coughing, aggravating the damage to his head. The blinding pain almost sent him back into unconsciousness, but he readily stopped the spasms and eased the pounding.

The Onyalum part of his spirit had clearly restored life to the old man, but he realized a long recuperation would still be required before the body was back to its former glory. At least everything felt intact, and only a dull numbness on the left side of the body coincided with the damage to his skull. Apparently the old man had landed on his left side cracking the head while bruising his arms and torso. Considering the old man’s age, Tyler thought it was a miracle he’d revived the body. He relished the pain, it was something he could feel, and it represented life.

He thought about the old man and his position within the village. Considering the age, Tyler assumed the man probably wasn’t a national hero or warrior. For that, Tyler was thankful. He’d had his fill of strong leaders whose existence dictated whether a world, a village, or a people were safe or not.

Fresh memories of his rampage through the Universe resurfaced bringing shame for the senseless destruction he’d caused. The vision of that female warrior filled his mind, and he thought morosely of Linda and Toosia. The incident had jarred him out of the madness, but his pain and guilt would linger for an eternity.

Whoever the old man was, his life was basic and simple. That suited Tyler just fine. He still desired the guilty pleasures he could lose himself in, and the call of that distant cavern with drug induced orgies beckoned to Tyler with a pull that couldn’t wait for the old man’s recovery.

He was tempted to integrate the memories if only to recall one of those frenzied orgies, but he was too tired and weak and decided to wait to acquaint himself with the man he’d become. For now, it was enough to rest and recuperate.

* * * *

When he awoke again, he felt like he’d been sleeping for months, and the dreadful thirst that pasted his mouth seemed to confirm his suspicions. Industrious sounds drifted in from what he believed to be the kitchen, and he sat up in bed to face his new reality. Despite the thirst, he felt far better than the previous time he’d woke to the sounds of the flute.

Without hesitation, he quickly integrated the old man’s memories into his own. The process took time, especially to become acquainted with the person, their language, and the general circumstances of their life. Most of the memories could wait till needed, but the first order of business was to communicate with those around him.

Once the memories were properly integrated, Tyler scanned through them to familiarize himself. The man’s name was Samil, and Tyler was surprised to discover the he was the spiritual leader of the village.

Tyler grinned. Great, I wanted to escape gods and I become a priest! It was ironic, but he’d become accustomed to irony in his new existence. He wondered if the Universe weren’t creating these situations just to see how he’d react. He was, after all, their new toy and they looked forward to his adventures. Hah!

Samil’s village was named Kidium and was one of thousands of similar villages dotting the northern and southern boundaries between the flatlands and the mountains ringing the equator. It was a strange topography for any planet, but Tyler sensed the hand of a Creator. Despite the generous size of the landmass, and the primitive state of its inhabitants, the entire planet believed in the same religion. Tyler was certain he could sift through the memories and piece it all together, but he put off those details to focus on immediate needs.

Samil was a father to one daughter, Sherim, and he lived with her and her husband, Tress, in their small dwelling. Samil was a widower after losing his wife to sickness when Sherim was just a young girl. After that loss, Samil had steadily lost faith, finally succumbing to the powerful addiction of perneem in his later years. Until recently, Samil hid his addiction from everyone in the village except those who’d rescued him so many times before.

Their world was Gamel, named after the god they worshipped. They believed the planet itself was part of their god, and they worshipped it nearly as much as the deity it was named for. A small preview of the religion showed a complex, large institution spanning thousands of generations into the past. He pushed that aside and focused on the old man’s life.

The large building overlooking their village was a place of worship, and only Samil held keys to it. Traditionally, his spiritual role would have been handed down to a son, but the lack of male progeny forced him to take on an apprentice from another family. The young man’s name was Seram, and he was near the age when he would take over as spiritual leader.

It was Seram playing the flute the time before—a healing song taught him by Samil. On this world, only spiritual leaders were permitted to play music, and Samil was well versed in multiple instruments crudely fashioned from natural materials. The thought excited Tyler with the prospect of playing an instrument. He’d never played in a previous life but liked the idea of being a master without rigorous training.

Satisfied he had enough information, he tended to his burning thirst.

“Sherim,” he called into the other room, “I am thirsty.”

He heard her drop what she was doing and quickly come to his aid. She parted the tapestry and entered with a cup of liquid. She helped him up and held the cup firmly so he could drink.

The liquid was warm and tasted odd. It wasn’t water, but refreshing despite the strange flavors. He likened it to something he’d enjoyed on another world, a brew created from a plant root. It was slightly bitter, but had a very sweet, vanilla aftertaste. A quick dip into Samil’s memories identified it as a mixture of herbs and minerals commonly used in healing. His daughter called it Lim Tea, but the ancient recipe was actually called ‘Limserti’, a word from a dead language no longer spoken. Only religious leaders knew this language to read all the ancient documents written in it.

He quickly drained the cup and was left wanting more.

She pulled away, staring deeply into his eyes, concerned for her father’s health.

“That was too close, father,” she said quietly, “we almost lost you this time.” She put the cup on a small bedside table and grabbed his hand in a loving embrace. “Is living with your daughter so bad that you desire to join mother in Jurane?”

Tyler recalled Jurane as their religion’s after-life. It was the equivalent of heaven and was promised throughout all the documents Samil had read. Tyler could clearly see the pain on Sherim’s face. She’d lost her mother when just a girl and now stood to lose her father from the disgrace of an addiction that tore them apart. Sherim was not capable of having children, and losing her father would leave her without any family other than her husband.

Tyler felt guilt for the selfish reasons he’d possessed Samil, but his desire to escape was much stronger than any sense to please this woman. She had, after all, already lost her father, and Tyler was giving her extra time beyond Samil’s allotted life. He stalled the inevitable, but perhaps during this time he could find ways to make the eventual loss less difficult.

“No,” he began, uncertain how to respond, “I merely stumbled on my way home.” It sounded as bad as he felt, especially since she knew of the addiction.

She smiled knowingly, the expression creasing her face with sadness. “Of course—well, you are healing quickly and should be fully recovered in several weeks, if you rest—longer if you insist on resuming your duties.”

She was referring to the rituals and prayers that were a daily part of the community. As their spiritual leader, Samil provided the guidance the village needed to survive in their harsh environment. He agreed spending weeks resting was preferable to spending months ill and debilitated. He thought about the orgies and realized participation in such activities would have to wait until his health improved. No reason to take chances when he had so much time to waste.

“Fine, I’ll have Seram take over for now. He has learned most of the ceremonies and can handle the daily activities without assistance.”

She smiled weakly. “Yes—well, he has already done that and is performing them quite well. Everyone in the village is quite pleased with his progress … or rather, your training.”

“How long have I been out?” Her reaction seemed unusual if it had only been a few days.

“It has been ten days since we found you on the hillside—at one point we were certain we’d lost you. You had stopped breathing, but then the blessings of Gamel filled your chest, restoring life once more. We are very thankful to Gamel, as you should be.”

Her jibe was intended to remind him of his lost faith. He knew she would have preferred Seram taking over completely since Samil had forsaken it years before. Tyler ignored the bait.

“Yes, thanks to Gamel indeed.” He placed his free hand over hers and smiled with what he hoped was a look of gratitude. “Thanks to my daughter, Sherim, whose meticulous care must surely have brought me back from the brink of death.” He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek, the action releasing a stream of tears from her eyes.

She pulled her hands away and wiped her eyes. “Damn you, father, why must you do this to yourself—do you not understand the pain it causes me?”

“I … I’m sorry, Sherim, I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you will stop this nonsense and seek the help of the God you once believed in!” Her voice rose in desperation, the topic of conversation a sore point.

“I wish I could, Sherim, I wish I could.” Tyler looked away, unable to take the pain on her face.

She made a disgusted sound before leaving, her angry voice trailing off into the kitchen. “I’ll make you something to eat!”

* * * *

Tyler’s recuperation took less time than he’d feared. His powerful spirit feeding life into the old body, bringing an unnatural health and vigor to someone of Samil’s advanced years. Tyler spent much of that time learning more about his ability to sense the physical aspects of the bodies he possessed. He’d was now able to detect what he believed was a cancer inside the old man. With practice and effort, Tyler focused energies on the disease and succeeded in stopping its spread. With continued focus, he even hoped to remove it completely.

He spent hours poring through the religious memories of Samil and was astounded at what he uncovered. Not only did everyone on the planet believe in the same god, they believed that god would one day return to live among them. The historical records were replete with passages that spoke of a god that would visit their world every five thousand years bringing abundance to the poverty they endured during his absence.

Considering what Tyler knew of the Universe, he wondered if this were actually true, or if like Thosolan, their god was too busy creating other worlds to bother with guiding his older creations. According to the scriptures, the time of his arrival was approaching, and Tyler, or rather Samil, was supposed to journey to witness this return as the representative of their village.

Thankfully, the journey to the Holy City of Malane was still months away, but the thought of meeting another god didn’t appeal to him. Regardless of whether the journey ended in a visit with a god, he had plenty of time to immerse himself in the unusual pleasures offered on this strange world.

During his recovery, Samil’s apprentice did a fabulous job with the daily functions required of the spiritual leader. The proper title of the village priest was Pretal, but villagers rarely referred to them with that title. Seram was ready to take over as Pretal, and Tyler looked forward to the freedom that would afford him.

Tyler had to admit, as he got to know Seram, he grew fond of the curious and capable youth. Tyler was pleased to see his progress paved the way for Samil to step into the background. The boy had become a man and was capable of taking over leadership of Kidium. Unfortunately, this did not excuse Tyler from the Holy Pilgrimage to Malane, but at least it removed him from the daily routines.

Tyler was ready to announce his retirement, but before Seram could take the reins, the young man needed to pass the Trial of Gesh by surviving forty days and forty nights in the southern desert with nothing but his faith to sustain him. Memories of Samil’s trial filled Tyler with dread as the old man, young at the time, barely survived his own ordeal. The memories were foggy and Tyler wasn’t certain how the man had survived.

Perhaps it was divine intervention, but nothing in the memories indicated this. They were a hardy species adapted to live in a harsh world where others would probably perish, so perhaps it was nothing more than survival of the fittest. That’s what concerned Tyler. The young man was capable, but Samil’s memories didn’t paint a picture of a rugged youth able to survive in such an inhospitable environment.

Whatever trepidations Seram had, he hid them behind a veil of excitement for his newfound position as spiritual leader. Tyler didn’t question the young man’s faith, but he questioned whether the young man had the intestinal fortitude for such a daunting ordeal. Blazing heat during the days and frigid cold during the nights made even the bravest person shrink into themselves, searching their soul for an escape—or for faith.

Samil’s memories contained countless stories of apprentices that did not survive. For whatever reason, they never returned after forty days and nights, and for the village that sent them out, the process of training another had to begin once more. It was a harsh and unsettling process, but one the villages adhered to religiously.

Seram’s family, though proud of their son, carried doubts and fears about the trial. They knew what was at stake and tried their hardest to fill him with confidence despite their own doubts. Seram was a fine young man, and although Tyler had not trained him, he felt as Samil did, like Seram was a son. He hoped he would survive to free Tyler from the bondage of his position.

Unfortunately, while Seram was gone, Tyler would have to perform the daily rituals. He didn’t relish that responsibility, but was relieved in the knowledge he could travel to the cave and dabble in the non-religious practices. It would sustain him while the youth grappled with faith in the desert.

Tyler pulled a shirt over his head and headed out to meet Seram in the temple. They would discuss the trial and prepare Seram for his journey through prayer and rituals. Thankfully, Tyler could access the whole process through Samil’s memories, but he didn’t like the idea of four hours in prayer. If nothing else, the religion was replete with traditions, ceremonies, and prayers. They were dull to Tyler, but an inner part of him felt it a fitting punishment after the wanton destruction he’d unleashed.

He kissed Sherim and headed up the hillside to the temple overlooking the squalid village. He knew Seram would be preparing for the daily service after his preparations for the trial. The entire village would attend, and fortunately for Samil, Seram was required to perform the entire ceremony as part of his trial. It would be an emotional time for everyone, but Tyler knew it would take all his willpower to remain awake.

He topped the hill near the entrance and scanned the boulder strewn hillside where Samil had fallen. He thought briefly about the strange creature that had visited Samil before death. He later discovered they were called saythers and were mysterious creatures protecting the forests of Gamel. The villages were forbidden to harvest anything from the lush mountains, and anyone who tried either disappeared or was later found dead, a look of horror frozen on their face.

It was said saythers protected the mountains, and killed all who entered. Many believed they were agents for Gamel, and did his bidding during his absence. Although the religion didn’t specifically support this theory, there were many references to the creatures throughout the historic texts. In the old language, they were called ruun dwoers, which translated into the modern language as Forest Watchers. That made sense, but it still didn’t imply they held any additional responsibilities.

The memory of that sayther sent shivers down Tyler’s spine. Considering their size and appearance, he hoped he would never encounter one. Still, it remained a mystery what the creature had been doing with Samil. It had been far from the upland forests, and its interest in Samil was both strange and surreal. There were no records indicating anyone had ever been eaten by a sayther, but then again, for those that never returned from the forest, their fate remained a mystery.

It was an unusual planet with a strange religion, but Tyler believed he could live with it for now. He had valid reasons for staying and he would do his best to survive the other aspects of this life. Memory of the narcotic perneem sent a chill through his body as the addiction gnawed within the now healthy man.

During his recovery, the painful withdrawals had been nearly unbearable. Over a couple weeks, the pain receded, replaced with an emptiness of a dependency that would never go away. Because of Seram’s trial, Tyler had yet to escape to the cavern since his recovery. His mind ached with desire, but he held back until the young man was safely on his way. Soon, Tyler thought, soon.

He pulled the enormous door open and entered the temple with intricate artwork etched into the walls from floor to ceiling. All around, scenes of a distant landscape replaced the desert with flowing rivers and abundant fields. It filled the corridors with hope and desire. Were they real scenes from the planet’s past or a fantasy about a god that would never return? Religion had a way of making people believe anything, especially if it promised paradise in return for selfless suffering.

Tyler walked past the pastoral mosaics and moved into the back of the sanctuary where Seram would be waiting. The main chamber contained pews that held ten times more people than their village possessed. He knew the population had shrunk over the many years as conditions became drier, but most still clung to the belief the temple would one day be filled by the bounty of their god’s return.

Tyler wasn’t certain, but he did know Samil’s daughter was recording the number of successful pregnancies, and over the last few decades, that number had declined rapidly. Those that were able to conceive often lost their child prior to birth. It was a startling and frightening statistic, one held in reserve from the villagers. Though the villagers suspected, their faith would not allow them the luxury of realizing their own circumstance. If babies died unborn, then it must surely be the will of Gamel.

Tyler believed the harsh living conditions were slowly wiping out the people. If that were true, they needed to find some way to survive in case their god didn’t fulfill his promise. Without some change, they were on the brink of extinction.

Tyler opened the door to the zerum, or place where they prepared for the ceremonies. All the ritualistic trappings of the religion were stored in that one room, including the historical scriptures that were an integral part of their services. The room was quite large and extended far beneath the hillside overhead. The room was nearly a perfect rectangle, and Tyler wondered how they’d fashioned the room with the primitive technology he’d seen so far. In fact, the architecture and construction of the entire temple clashed with the simplistic dirt huts they lived in.

The religion forbade new technology as the holy texts taught them to “… build only what you need, take only what you need, and let God take care of the rest.” Tyler thought it cryptic and overbearing, especially in light of their current predicament. Despite this, the people held onto the belief that they mustn’t do anything that would bring down the wrath of their god. It squelched all creativity and innovation.

A small light to the left indicated Seram was dressing in the ceremonial robes as part of the trial he would undertake. Tyler moved to help him and to prepare himself. He hated the large, hot robes that were part of the ceremonies, but considering how little the villagers possessed, he wasn’t going to deny them their religion—it was the only thing that kept them going.

“Ah, Seram, I see you are eager to begin your journey!”

The young man fiddled with a piece of the clothing that was apparently new to him. Tyler recognized it as the strap that went around the shoulder and neck to hold the sacred texts he was to carry with him into the desert.

“Here,” he offered quickly, “let me help you with that.”

“Thank you, Samil, I guess I am too nervous to see how this works.”

Tyler noted a hint of unease in Seram’s voice. A quick jump into Samil’s memories surfaced downright fear when Samil had prepared for his trial. It was an uncertain time, and faith was all that would carry you through. Tyler sincerely felt for the youth.

“Nonsense,” Tyler tried to calm him, “you just haven’t used it before.” He finished tying the sash around properly and stood back to look at the young man in his finery. “Seram, I am very proud of you and know you will do fine. Look to your faith and believe in your abilities to come through the trial unscathed.”

Tyler hoped he sounded convincing, because Samil hadn’t come back unscathed. Although he healed rapidly, he was forever changed by the experience. Perhaps here was the real root of Samil’s addictions, a painful experience suppressed in memories. Tyler knew less serious reasons for turning to drugs.

“Thank you, Samil,” the young man responded with a smile, “you have trained me well. I am prepared.”

“Good, then let us finish dressing and begin the ceremony.”

Seram helped Tyler don his robes as Tyler’s side still stung from Samil’s fall. The boy was helpful and Tyler imagined he would have wanted a son just like him. He thought back to his son on Poolto and wondered what had become of him. Politics probably, it was in the family genes.

* * * *

The villagers finally arrived for Seram’s ceremony. They were scattered throughout the first few pews, whispering quietly to each other while waiting for Seram to begin. As dictated by custom, Seram hung back in the Zerum going through scripted prayers. Tyler left him to his prayers and welcomed the villagers into the service.

Once everyone was seated, Tyler took a seat in the back pew far from the villagers. It was better to observe, or sleep as might be the case. He watched several children running between the rows, playing a game of chase. The parents were attempting to stop the horseplay, but the children were too fast to be caught. Tyler smiled at the brash young boys, too young to understand their world and the problems it faced. One day their wonder and playfulness would be replaced with the burdens their parents carried.

Oh, to be young again …

The thought brought back memories of the Indian playing his flute, and Tyler longed for the innocence he could barely remember. Had he once played like those two boys? Was there ever a time when the pleasure of a simple romp was sufficient to make your day? Tyler felt certain there had been, but the memory eluded him.

Seram finally entered through the side wings and marched slowly to the podium. Everyone grew quiet, even the two boys who’d been chasing each other. It was a solemn time, and everyone in the village understood the dangers the young man would face. Tyler sat up and listened carefully as Seram opened with the proper prayer.

Seram began his service by telling the story of Gesh. As he began the tale, Samil’s memories brought the story to life within Tyler’s mind. It sounded like many other fairy tales, but he was still fascinated considering the impact it had on this world. Samil’s memory of the story unfolded in lock step with Seram’s.

Long ago, when Gamel had lived among his people, their world enjoyed a life of abundance within his love. No one knew pain, hunger, or suffering on their placid world. Food was so abundant you had only to walk out of your house to find something to eat. With this great abundance came complacency and sloth.

Slowly at first, but steadily afterward, the religious customs were ignored or skipped as people spent their time indulging every whim. Sex, slovenly behavior, and substance abuse became the norm, and the holy temples grew empty as people no longer saw the need to worship their God.

Gamel grew angry with his people’s behavior and lack of worship. He saw their sloth as an affront to the bounty he provided. He spoke with the leaders of each kingdom, the Pretarchs, but they pleaded with him that the people were simply happy with his bounty and felt compelled to enjoy his generosity.

Their excuses calmed Gamel, at first, but eventually his heart hardened as rumors of strange new religions surfaced across the world. Those cities far removed from the Holy City of Malane began to question their God’s existence. Again, the Pretarchs calmed Gamel by sending missionaries among the people to renew the message of their God and his love.

But soon after, word came back that those missionaries either abandoned their mission in favor of self indulgence, or were killed by the people they were sent to convert. This drew the ire of Gamel, and he told his leaders during their annual celebration in the Holy City that he would cast them all from his love and let them perish in the harshness of a world they’d been protected from. Even among his followers, Gamel heard of corruption and decadence within the Holy City. It was more than his heart could bear, and he readied his wrath.

During the holy celebration of Madeer, he gathered his leaders together in the great coliseum. Every religious leader around the planet traveled to Malane to hear their God speak. But to Gamel’s shock, fewer than half the Pretarchs, Pretares, and Pretals appeared. His heart sank with sadness and anger as his creations spurned his love in favor of their own indulgences.

He spoke to the few in attendance asking for just one believer who would be willing to give their life to prove to him their world was worth saving. Murmurs ran through the crowd, but no one was willing to forego their wealth and power. They, too, had become accustomed to a posh lifestyle and didn’t want to forsake it for their God. No one believed Gamel would really destroy his own creation simply because they didn’t worship him as before.

Gamel called out one last time into the silent crowd, and a lone, small voice called back.

“I will forego my life, my Lord, if that is what it will take to appease you.”

Gamel, surprised by the young boy, stared at the brave believer that walked through the hushed crowd. With innocence and deference, the young boy walked towards his God, and perhaps his death. His name was Gesh and he was the apprentice of his Pretal father, Gereel. His father, too stunned by the boy’s audacity, shrunk back from the God that had sustained him and the son he had raised.

Gamel looked down at the small boy who knelt before him, head bowed in deference to his Creator. “Who are you?” Gamel asked.

“I am called Gesh, my Lord, and all my life I have wanted nothing more than to serve you.”

“Rise, Gesh, that I may see your face and look into the eyes of he who shall sacrifice his life to save those of his people.”

The young man rose to his feet and stared into the eyes of Gamel, unafraid, and unabashed.

“You are a brave young man, Gesh, but is your faith in your Lord true and honest, or do you hope to gain from your brashness?”

The young man didn’t flinch at the accusation. “My faith in you is honest, my Lord—test me, if you wish.”

Gamel thought about the boy’s challenge. If one child had faith in their God, then Gamel would save the world and use that child to rebuild his church. He thought of a test that would truly see if faith guided the young boy.

“I will test you, young Gesh, and if you survive, I will spare this world my wrath, and make you the Grand Pretarch of my new church.”

The crowd couldn’t believe what their God was saying. The planet, their lives, and their comforts were being judged and held in the balance by the faith of one young boy. They screamed to their God in outrage, pointing out the unfairness of his decree. Surely if they simply held more ceremonies and brought the people back into the temples that would suffice. Why must the actions of a boy be the only way back into their God’s heart?

Their pleas fell on deaf ears, and Gamel quieted their screams with a plague of silence. This caused palpable fear in the young Gesh, and he bowed once more before the God whose wrath he had temporarily restrained.

“Rise, young Gesh, that I may tell you of your trial.”

Gesh rose before his Lord and took a large copy of scriptures from his God.

“Gesh, if your faith in me is truly genuine, then you must travel into the desert with no food, water, or company for forty days and forty nights. Only my book of prayers and scriptures must sustain you. Read from them, and I will keep you alive. Ignore your faith, and read not from them, and you shall perish with this world.”

“But, my Lord, where will I find this desert?”

“Travel south from Malane, and there at the base of the mountains you shall find a desert. Follow that desert south for twenty days, then turn around and return the same way you traveled.”

Gesh was young and not well traveled, but he knew of no desert south of Malane. According to his teachings, a great city lay perched against the mountains south of Malane. It was called Perneer, and boasted the greatest civilization ever constructed.

“My Lord, I am not aware of a desert to the south of your city. Will it be hard to find?”

“No. Travel to the decadent city of Perneer and you shall find your desert. Take help from no one, speak to no one, and rely only on your faith to survive. I will be watching.”

Gesh bowed, thanking his Lord for the chance to save his world. Hefting the scriptures over his shoulder, he walked out of the Holy City towards Perneer.

Travel out of the mountains was quick and easy, and Gesh looked forward to a hearty meal and drink in Perneer before starting his journey into the desert. As he came out of the foothills and onto a plain of dry, barren dirt, the grand city of Perneer, its high walls and towers visible across the dusty landscape, looked as barren as the landscape he crossed. A chill ran through the young man as he understood the true power of his God’s will.

The city was dead. Dried corpses littered the town’s courtyards, streets, and buildings while a dry, ruddy dust covered everything in a blanket of death. Even the famous hanging baskets that once held the flowering treasures of this planet hung empty, dried strings of dead plants the only evidence of their former beauty.

Gesh walked quickly through the desert tomb, his scriptures open, reading and praying as he headed into the deep desert his Lord had created just for him. For twenty days and twenty nights he walked, foregoing food, drink and sleep as he prayed and read from the Holy Book of his God.

Days were hot and dry, while the nights were dark and cold, but Gesh kept walking, amazed he’d not fallen to the misery of the hostile landscape. He held onto his faith, he believed his Lord would sustain him, and as he finally stopped at the end of the twentieth day, Gamel spoke to him. “Sleep, young Gesh, your faith has earned you that luxury, but tomorrow you must turn around and continue your journey. This time, I will not sustain you, and your body will rebel. Have faith that I will not let you die, even as you suffer. Do not stop, no matter how hungry or thirsty you become, or how tired you feel.”

Gesh slept as his Lord instructed, and dreamt of a world where desert covered most of the planet. In his dream, his Lord promised he would return someday, but that they would have to survive without him for five thousand years. Gesh humbly accepted this dream, and promised his Lord he would keep the faith in his absence.

When he woke the next morning, the sun bore down with an oppressive heat like Gesh had never felt before. Hunger ate at his belly and dust consumed his mouth. Still, his faith did not waver as he opened his scriptures and headed back toward the dead city of Perneer.

For twenty days and twenty nights, Gesh stumbled and crawled his way towards the start of the desert. Often he drifted into unconsciousness, only his faith pulling him back, urging him to obey what his Lord commanded.

During the last eight days of his journey, he came upon mirages of water and food offered by ruun dwoers who brought him the bounties of the mountain forests. They tempted him with food and drink, urging him to forget his God and take care of his needs.

But Gesh’s faith was strong and he moved past these temptations, delirious as his body began to fail, wasting away in the dry desert atmosphere. On the fortieth day, Gesh could barely pull himself through the dirt. His clothing barely clung to what was left of his body, and as he looked up from the ground staring at the rising towers of Perneer in the distance, he laughed at the distant mirage that taunted him with relief.

He rolled onto his back and looked into the heavens, searching for the God that he believed would save him.

“Gamel, my Lord, I know the end is not yet near and the distant visage is yet another temptation to fool me into disobeying your commands. But I will not succumb, I will continue, for I believe in you, my Lord, and I know your love will sustain me through this ordeal, making me a better man in the end.”

Gamel looked down at the broken boy and felt pity, for Gesh had lost track of time and was indeed at the end of his journey.

Gesh struggled to his feet, and barely able to stand, marched towards the distant mirage. His progress was slow in the searing heat, and near the end, he crawled through the deadly cold of night. Not realizing the city was real, Gesh pushed to the edge of its outer walls before collapsing in death, his body finally unable to withstand the brutal punishment.

Gamel was so touched by the young man’s faith, he restored life into his body and placed him on a warm bed of clean linens within Perneer. The young man woke to the sounds of birds outside an open window, and though he was weak and tired, the sunlight coming through window was welcome instead of harsh and searing. He struggled to open his eyes, but the burning in the desert left only slits to see through.

Across the room, he saw his Lord, Gamel, looking down at him with concern and caring. Softness replaced the harsh look his God had worn in the coliseum.

“You have done well, my son, and I shall uphold my pledge by sparing this world.”

“Thank you, Lord, your love and benevolence is not deserved. We have strayed from your love and found refuge in the sins of our flesh. I have forsaken my flesh and your spirit has freed me from its bondage.”

“Go, my son, my church is yours, teach them what you have learned from this trial, and show them how they, too, can release themselves from their bondage.”

Tyler ran through the rest of the story just as Seram finished on the podium. Gesh became the Grand Pretarch and established the modern day church, its customs, ceremonies, and trials. Gamel left the world soon after, and with him, his abundance. Most of the world became desert while the lush mountains became off limits.

Now the planet only sustained itself from the flour ground from the hard nuts found in the hostile plant life that grew sparingly in the barren landscape. Whatever else they could scrounge, they could eat or drink. It was a lowly and difficult subsistence, but they survived, their faith carrying them onward, just as it had Gesh.

Tyler watched as Seram finished the ceremony with a long prayer before releasing the villagers to their homes. The last of his preparations must be done alone before heading into the desert to test his faith.

* * * *

It had been several days after Seram left, and although Tyler cared about the boy, he knew Seram would have to face his fate alone. During those days, Tyler spent time performing various rituals intended to help Seram keep his faith during the trial. To Tyler, the rituals prevented him from attaining his own desires. Each day that passed, his body ached for the perneem, but the duties kept him from journeying to the cave and the comfort of intoxication.

Finally, Tyler finished the last of the ritual ceremonies and released the now somber and apprehensive villagers to contemplate the fate of their new leader. Tyler, like Seram, was now on his own and he intended to use it to his advantage.

He ushered the last of the people out of the temple, pleading with them to return to their homes, maintain their faith, and keep Seram in their prayers. He turned back toward the temple, but caught a glimpse of Sherim standing at the top of the path. The look on her face told Tyler she knew what he was planning, and the thought of it was tearing her up.

Tyler waved casually as though nothing were wrong and slid into the temple darkness, glancing back as she turned toward the village and disappeared down the path. Her concern tugged at Tyler, but his need for pleasure was stronger than the bonds of a woman he’d just met.

There were plenty of fatherly thoughts from Samil that flooded Tyler’s awareness, but his resolve to pursue the powerful narcotic brushed them all aside. He locked the temple doors and headed around the large boulders to start his ascent up the hillside. Despite a slight twinge in his side, Samil’s body deftly scrambled up the boulder field and onto the main ridgeline. As Tyler passed the rock where Samil had fallen, he turned back to see the dark stain left on the ruddy brown stone. Tough luck, buddy!

Visions of the sayther filled Tyler’s mind and he peered nervously around the boulder field half expecting one to jump out of a blind crevice. He knew the thoughts were irrational—no one on the plains had ever been attacked. Still, the creatures were mysterious, and you couldn’t predict the behavior of a wild animal, god ordained or not. But, if they only protected the forests, then Tyler was at least far from those.

The journey felt shorter than he remembered, but the awesome sight of the glowing caverns was more intense. He was amazed how Samil’s body practically walked on its own—each step memorized from years of travel. It made Tyler wonder how much of the perneem addiction was physical and how much was simply acclimation to a constant routine.

He didn’t care. As he took each step closer, he felt the cravings grow stronger, consuming him with the desire to partake in the decadent festivities. His mind became overrun with thoughts of abandoning the village, staying in the hills, and losing himself to the drug. He’d often dipped into Samil’s memories of perneem, but nothing tangible came from it. He didn’t really know what the effects were, but he knew he had to experience them.

Why must he continue the charade in the village when something far better awaited him in the hills? They had Seram, assuming he survived, what more did they want from Samil? Could he stay in the hills forever? He didn’t think his position would hold much sway with those in the cavern if he abandoned his village. His position as spiritual leader of the community bought him the perneem and luxuries he enjoyed.

As the powerful desire pulled him onward, he found he had to fight against a desire to run towards the cave. His injured side ached from the journey, and despite the power of his Onyalum spirit, Samil was not a young man. He slowed his walk, conserving his strength for the experience he would soon enjoy.

He walked silently down the empty canyon, the walls lit by the sun high overhead. Coming so early, he felt certain he could make it home before too late. He finally spotted the entrance ahead, but saw no one tending the dead fire out front. Tyler hoped it was open, but Samil’s memories assured him they never closed.

His mind raced at the possibilities this new drug could offer him. He knew from Samil’s memories that the narcotic was powerful, but the memories of its effects were hidden behind a veil created by the drug. He thought back to the various narcotics he’d dealt with on Earth and wondered what drug perneem was most similar to? It had to be something strong, something even Tyler might never have experienced.

Heroin? Opium? These were some of the most powerful narcotics Earth could offer, and Tyler had only smoked opium a couple of times. The market for those drugs were small compared to cocaine, and Tyler dealt mainly in the white powder and its varied forms. Pills, marijuana, and designer drugs made up the rest of his stock, but none of those were powerful narcotics on their own. Deadly, yes, but if you wanted the powerful effects, you had to mix and match your drugs to create new highs—and often new lows. Tyler had it down to a science, and he yearned for those days when he’d had power, prestige, and drugs.

Could you overdose on perneem? Nothing in Samil’s memories indicated one way or another, but Tyler felt certain his Onyalum spirit would prevent that from happening. The thrill of anticipation made Tyler hurry down the rest of the canyon as he ignored the pain in his side.

He stopped in front of the entrance, silently staring at the dark hole carved out of solid rock. His heart beat rapidly as he finally reached the only reason for being on Gamel. Would he like it? Would he have sex? Would they let him? Reason no longer ruled as the power of the unknown drug led him through the dark hole and into the cavern of sin.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dark interior, but as it came into focus he readily recognized it from memory. The walls glowed with the faint light of the lichen while small glowing globes filled the chamber with more light than seemed possible for such a primitive world.

Since becoming Samil, Tyler had learned the glowing globes were actually a light created from mixing two different substances together in proper quantities. The resulting reaction released a near constant light for up to several days before the reaction completed. It was the first sign of technology Tyler had seen on this world, and he understood why no one in the village used them.

Everything about this cavern went against the religious teachings. He thought about Gesh and the sinful city of Perneer, and suddenly realized perneem must have been derived from the name of that ancient city. It was as if the denizens of this cavern wanted to flaunt their disbelief in Gamel and his religion. They lived for the pleasures of the flesh and found their freedom from the inside of a pipe or bottle. Tyler felt at home.

A few customers sat quietly drinking while the working ladies sat against the back wall talking quietly, drinking, and preparing for the evening’s activities. They all turned to see who’d entered and several waved to Tyler, perhaps surprised at the return of their most renowned client. Tyler waved back with a smile and hurried to the distant hallway, wanting to make his way into the pleasure room he’d seen before.

One of the younger ladies separated from the others and made her way to Tyler’s side as he entered the long corridor. Samil’s memories recalled her as Joriss, a regular partner with Samil. Tyler remembered her as the young naked woman dancing to the hypnotic music that only she could hear.

She was from a village far to the West, but had been banished when her desires led to a sinful relationship with the Pretal’s apprentice. She’d truly loved the young man, and her sexual desires stemmed from that love.

Unfortunately, after he’d failed to return from his Trial of Gesh, the Pretal revealed her love for his son to the villagers. Angry at the loss, he blamed her publicly for his son’s death in the desert. The villagers turned on her, banishing her from the village. She’d denied them their new leader, so they would deny her a home and family.

Alone, and saddened by the loss of her love, she’d had no where to go and wandered the foothills until Samil had found her near death. Samil took pity on the young woman, bringing her to the cavern, making sure she was cared for. For a while, he had thought of her like a daughter, but after she succumbed to the pleasures of perneem, their relationship turned into a sexual frenzy neither understood nor wanted to end.

“Hello, Samil,” she grabbed his arm, pulling him close, “I wondered what had happened to you. I was getting concerned.”

She actually looked concerned, and Tyler felt an immediate bond driven by Samil’s memories. The feel of her next to him stirred something inside, and the ache for perneem doubled the desires he felt.

“I have been … busy.” He stuttered absently, his gaze taking in her beautiful features. He’d only been Samil for a short while but already felt an affinity for the people whose strange appearance was squat and unattractive by Earth standards. When in Rome …

She pulled him into the corridor, her own desires apparently exceeding his own. “Busy doing what?” She pouted. “I have missed you—and need you.”

Tyler needed her as well. It had been too long without sexual intimacy, and Tyler felt a longing like never before. Already a rise beneath his clothing signaled his body was responding to the young woman’s scent and touch.

She glanced down at the obvious bulge and smiled. “I guess you missed me, too.” She giggled and pulled him faster toward the distant room and its hidden pleasures.

Tyler noticed the burly guards no longer protected the inner sanctum as they passed through the curtains blocking the entrance. He supposed it was too early to need to keep drunken desires at bay.

The room was like Tyler remembered, but no one was inside. The smoke that normally filled the room with a blue haze was gone, and with the increased clarity, Tyler could see intricate details adorning the walls. They were artistic murals and reminded Tyler of the scenes depicted on the walls of the temple.

Joriss released his arm and ran to the carved out nook in the wall. It was where Samil had inhaled the strange mixture, sending him into a euphoric state of sexual depravity. Joriss launched herself into the cubby hole, quickly grabbing the pipe and the potent concoction.

“I can’t wait to be with you, Samil, it has been too long and I want you all to myself.” She busily placed the contents into the pipe, shaking much of it loose in her haste.

Tyler moved towards her, noting the intricate scenes surrounding the small bed. They depicted a beautiful city with soaring towers and high white walls adorned with hanging baskets of flowers. It was a breathtaking sight considering the harsh landscape currently covering the planet. Tyler thought it looked like a representation of the lost city of Perneer. A voice cut through his thoughts, as though reading them.

“I have been there, you know?”

He turned to the low, sultry voice of the woman who ran everything within the cavern. She was called the Vereen, and from Samil’s memories, it translated loosely into Priestess. She was a believer in an old religion started in Perneer before Gamel destroyed it. They believed a person’s soul was lifted to a higher consciousness during drug induced orgies, and that Gamel was jealous they had discovered something only he possessed. Because of this, he had destroyed their city.

Despite the destruction of Perneer, the cult persisted and spread across the planet. Everywhere there were people, the cult opened caverns like this one, seducing the village men and women by offering sexual pleasures, drugs, alcohol, and an escape from the harshness of their world.

She walked slowly towards Tyler, gesturing at the beautiful scenes on the wall. “It is all that is left of our great city. I have been there and seen the ruins. They stand as a testament to my people’s will to fight a god that oppresses us.”

She moved past Tyler, a hand silkily sliding up his back sending a shiver of excitement through his groin.

“Your god, Samil.” She said it without malice.

Tyler was stunned by her beauty. He didn’t remember her as she appeared now, and a strong desire pulled him towards her, a power he didn’t understand.

“I … I don’t believe in that god … anymore.” He found it difficult to talk, and the bulge that had been starting beneath his clothing grew hard as he stared at the vision in front of him. Was she really this fantastic or was there something else going on? He hadn’t even smoked the perneem yet.

The priestess stared at his bulging clothes with a smug smile. “I know you don’t believe in him, Samil, you believe in me now.”

“I am sorry, great Vereen,” Joriss bowed deeply before her guardian and caregiver, “I only wanted to enjoy Samil again, I didn’t mean to intrude on your space without your permission.”

“Oh, yes, you did,” the priestess smiled at the young woman knowingly, “but I will forgive you if you will share him with me.” She cast a smile at Tyler and his hardness began to throb painfully.

“Of course, great Vereen, what is mine is yours.”

Joriss handed the priestess the pipe and slid out of the woman’s bed to stand beside Tyler. She looked excited at the prospects of sharing Tyler with her priestess, but Tyler felt trepidation despite his body’s obvious excitement. He hadn’t liked how she had said “you believe in me”, and warning bells rang in his head.

She was a true vision and Tyler’s heart beat rapidly at the prospects of carnal knowledge with her. Was that all she wanted? It seemed so trivial for someone in such an ancient religion. Samil’s memories didn’t hold anything but positive memories of this woman, but something about her troubled him.

The priestess led them to the upper part of the room covered in soft furs and pillows. Each removed their clothing and sat upon the largest fur in a circle. Tyler’s obvious excitement stood out in stark contrast to the two women. He stared at each, a longing desire consuming his earlier trepidations. Their curves and bosoms called to Tyler, and he wanted nothing more than to lie between them letting his engorged body enter their warmth.

The priestess lit the pipe, inhaling deeply from its dark, acrid smoke. She passed it to Joriss who quickly followed suit nearly dumping the contents in the process. Finally, the pipe came to Tyler and he stared at it blankly, the moment he’d been waiting for finally arrived. What would it be like? Where would it take him? Sexual bliss he hoped.

He hit hard, a warm, almost burning sensation filling his chest. As quickly as the burning started, it turned to a numbing warmth of pleasure. The immediate effect was physical and Tyler waited patiently for his mind to catch up with his body.

They passed the pipe twice more before the priestess placed it on the floor out of the way. She lay on the fur and ran her hand gently along her body in a sensuous display of sexuality. Joriss followed suit and Tyler wondered if both were feeling the effects in their mind.

Despite a ravenous sexual hunger that gripped his body, Tyler felt no high and began to worry that it would have no effect on his Onyalum enhanced body. He remembered feeling drunk on Poolto, so why not perneem?

The women continued their sensual movements and Tyler grew excited as their bodies responded with swollen breasts and obvious moisture. Unable to control his own body, he felt the moisture that preceded the pleasure. Why wasn’t the drug working? He began to worry, wanting this experience more than anything but feeling like it was not going to happen. Already the tension from his concerns caused his body to recede slightly, desire replaced with fear.

In response, the two women moved next to him, each wrapping themselves around his upper body, hands stroking all over. The feeling was sensuous and he grew once again in response. As he succumbed to their ministrations, he slowly became aware of the room turning a reddish color. It was as if the air were filled with a red smoke from some hidden source.

The reddish hue grew more intense as the walls around him began to undulate in response to the rhythm of the women’s movements. In and out they pulsed, up and down, hypnotically sending him deeper into the pleasure he felt from their touch. He felt enormous and wondered how the women would fit him. Couldn’t they see the largess he now provided?

As if sensing his thoughts, they both grabbed him and rubbed up and down his length, each time sending a pulse of pleasure through his body. He pulsed and moved to the movements around him, caught in a current of pleasure he wanted to ride forever.

His hands reached blindly into the air, searching for the pleasure their bodies would provide. Each hand found a squirming woman, and he plunged deep inside, sending waves of pleasure through their bodies. He was lost in the experience, the world of Gamel drifting farther and farther away.

He watched mesmerized as the two women bent their mouths to him, beckoning with the pleasure of their lips. He arched back in ecstasy beyond that of a mere mortal. He swam through the currents, relishing the peaks and valleys of the waves that coursed through them.

Somewhere during the experience the two women turned into visions of Linda and Toosia, doubling the experience with the pleasure of his lost loves. He made love to them over and over again, the pleasure becoming pain as they could not slow the frenetic pace. Each time he exploded into them, they arched with a pleasure Linda or Toosia had never known. If only they would stay like this forever, stay with him forever. He missed them so much and loved them more than life itself.

He released his essence one last time and with tears streaming down his face, fell to the floor embracing his lost loves as though he’d never let go. He screamed into the darkness. “I will never lose you again—never!”

* * * *

Tyler struggled to open his eyes. He lay on something thick and soft, but his head swam lazily with a dull pain. He felt as if he was recovering from a concussion and couldn’t remember where he was or what he’d been doing.

In the foggy recesses of his mind, pictures of Toosia swam past, and his heart leapt at the prospects of seeing her yet again. But something was different. Toosia was gone, left behind on Poolto with Tyler’s son. After so long, she must surely be dead.

He struggled to make sense of the confusion and within minutes, recovered his true bearings. He was Samil and this wasn’t Poolto. He blinked rapidly in the dim glow as he felt a naked body lying next to him. Although he couldn’t explain it, he suddenly felt repulsed by the squat figure sleeping silently.

It was Joriss, and the sexual frenzy they’d shared came rushing back, filling Tyler with both regret and happiness as he replayed the fantastical effects of the perneem. Both the Vereen and Joriss had changed into Linda and Toosia, and he yearned once more for the deluded state of consciousness. Even the thought of his lost loves urged his body to take action as he craved another taste of that experience.

Was that the power of perneem? Did it bring your fantasies to life? What had it brought Samil? Had he seen his dead wife under its influence, or was his fantasy something different entirely? Tyler would never know, the drug’s effects were too strong for Samil to retain the memories of the experience. Only the special strength of his Onyalum memory made him capable of vivid recall. And with that recall, he was beckoned back to relive past loves and lose himself in the sexual pleasures and desires of those lost times.

He shuddered from the power of the drug—clearly this was something he would never escape. Was this the power the priestess held over her patrons, the power of sexual fantasy? Tyler remembered people on Earth who were utterly controlled by their sexual desires, and although their behavior was deviant, they were classic examples of the power the body had over the mind.

Tyler couldn’t remember sex being such a powerful force in his life, but after the experience with the perneem, he felt certain it soon would be. The memory of it plagued him with visions of Linda arching back in ecstasy as he filled her over and over again. His own body convulsed slightly with the memory, and a dull, nauseating ache gripped his stomach.

He knew the ache was serious hunger, and he wondered how long he’d been out.

“Welcome back, Samil.” The smooth voice called through the dim light.

Tyler followed the sound to the private alcove of the Vereen. Uncharacteristically, she wore a flowing robe of multi-colored fabric. On its exterior, Tyler could make out symbols and lettering that he noted were in the ancient language only the priests of this world could read. He wondered if she could read it.

“Good day.” Tyler responded slowly, unsure what time of the day it really was.

The Vereen slid out of her alcove and walked over to one of the globes on the wall. She poured liquid from a nearby container into the globe that instantly filled the room with light.

“In fact, it is currently night.” She said it casually as she returned to her alcove. “You have been asleep for over a day—well, you and Joriss.”

Tyler couldn’t believe what he was hearing. A day? He couldn’t ever remember sleeping that long except when recovering from extreme injuries. His side ached as a reminder of the deadly fall that killed Samil. How dangerous was this drug? A deep chill swept through his body but was quickly replaced with sensual visions of Linda, Toosia, or both.

“And you?” Tyler asked wondering if she were also affected as deeply.

The Vereen gave Tyler a cool look. “I have more tolerance for its effects, and have been awake for much of that time.” She stared deeply at Tyler. “So I thought did you—but I guess your time away has decreased your ability to tolerate its grip.”

He didn’t like the connotation of grip, but knew it was an accurate portrayal of the power of this drug. Was the Vereen under its grip? Was she addicted or did she have a way to counteract it? What would the addiction do to you over time? Tyler thought she looked extraordinarily healthy considering her age was nearer to Samil’s than Joriss’s.

“Yes,” he muttered noncommittally, “I guess so.”

He grabbed what clothing he could find and began dressing. In the sober light of the day after, he was no longer comfortable and longed for daylight. Too bad it was night. At least the fresh air would help ease his pounding head.

The Vereen continued to stare at him, as though trying to pierce something inside. “You are different, Samil, …” she let that hang as though waiting for a response. Tyler ignored the implied question and continued to dress. “You were like a man … possessed is the word I am looking for.”

Tyler almost froze at the mention of possession. Memories of the Emperor and Regent Sneerd came back to haunt him. Was the Vereen an Onyalum? Were Onyalum something she even knew about? What other demons existed to possess someone? He felt compelled to respond.

“What do you mean?” He asked casually. “I don’t feel any different than any other time.”

“Hmmm …” she hummed thoughtfully, apparently unconvinced by his casual attitude. “It felt different to me.”

“I hope in a good way,” he said quickly, “I truly enjoyed the experience.” He had enjoyed it despite the ill feelings in its aftermath.

“Interesting,” the Vereen said in an accusatory tone, “because the Samil I knew would never admit that. The Samil I knew was always embarrassed and ashamed.”

Tyler didn’t like where this was going and was desperate to leave.

“People change, I guess.” He said it with a casual tone. Inside, he was churning at the implications of her comments.

She looked dubious, but Tyler saw she decided to let it pass. “I suppose they do.” She swung her feet out of the alcove and dropped to the floor gracefully. She moved towards him in a sensuous way that aroused him once again.

Tyler looked away, finding the last piece of his clothing for his trip home. How would his village and Samil’s daughter react to his prolonged absence? The guilt ate at him once more as he thought about Samil’s daughter and the pain he caused.

He stood up to find the Vereen blocking his exit. She stood much too close, and her beauty stirred powerful cravings.

“You were wonderful, Samil, that much is certain. Whatever your change—I approve.” She wrapped her arms around him and he felt his knees begin to melt in her embrace. What power did this woman have? Was this all the drug or did she possess some magic? He was both confused and locked in indecision as his body began to respond to her touch.

“I … uh … uh, have to go.” He said it without force as her touch continued to arouse him with promises of the sexual intimacy he’d already enjoyed. Pictures of Linda and Toosia filled his mind, and he longed to touch them, to feel them, and be with them.

“Fine,” her voice was sultry and seductive in his ear, “but someone else seems to think otherwise.” As she said it her hands rubbed up against his cloak, sending pleasure waves through his body. “But before you go …” she held him in her hand, her grip pulsing slightly, “perhaps you’ll tell me who Toosia is?”

The mention of her name woke Tyler from the hypnotic trance. How did she know that name? Had he said it to her? Fear began to grip him and his body reacted by growing limp in her hands.

The Vereen stepped back and surveyed his face. “I see that name means something to you. Whatever could it mean, Samil?”

Unsure how to react, he quickly pushed past her and headed to the door. “It means nothing, Vereen … nothing.”

His mind raced wildly as he sped through the corridors to reach the entrance and escape. Surely he’d said their names during the orgy, how else could she know? His memories of Toosia and Linda were clear, but he couldn’t remember anything that he had said. Could the Vereen read minds? Did the drug make some people telepathic? Was she controlling the fantasies or was it the narcotic? Paranoia gripped him as he hurried to put distance between him and the cavern.

He feared what it would mean if it were true. She’d be able to see his memories and discover he was a fraud—an alien pretending to be Samil.

As he neared the noisy bar, he dreaded the long, dark voyage home. Suddenly he didn’t feel like being alone—alone to ponder the awful reality if she knew his true identity. He thought about Emperor Yooso and the Onyalum that had possessed him. After being discovered, that Onyalum had destroyed the world he’d fooled for so long. Why had he done it? Was the thought of sharing power or losing control so difficult for an Onyalum that they lashed out in revenge? It was a scary proposition and Tyler hoped the Vereen was not controlled by an Onyalum.

He fled into the darkness of the canyon and hurried past several patrons standing around the glowing fire. Ignoring their salutations, he rushed down the canyon into the night, desperate to return to the village he didn’t like.

* * * *

Several weeks had passed since Tyler visited the cavern and his mind and body physically shook from the withdrawal of perneem. He was haunted by thoughts of Toosia and Linda, and Samil’s daughter noticed the obvious signs but said nothing out of shame.

When he’d returned from his venture so late the following night, she had chastised him until the light of morning filtered through their lone window. By the end of the conversation, she had fled in tears, a steely veneer replacing her earlier look of concern.

Even the people in the village looked at him differently, no doubt wondering what could have prevented their priest from attending his duties when their future priest’s life depended upon it. Did he not desire a suitable replacement to lead their village? Did he wish to bring down the wrath of Gamel on their poor village?

Tyler was guilty for all these things but especially for Seram as he struggled in the desert. Tyler fought his own demons and didn’t have time to fight Seram’s. The boy would either survive or he would die, and nothing the village could do would change that outcome.

Regardless, he tried to lead them in prayer to bolster the young man through his trial. After so much time, Seram should have been on the return leg of his trip. If he were alive, he would return sometime the following week. A week on Gamel was nine days in length, and Seram had already been gone thirty-two days. One more week and he could assume his new role as the spiritual leader of Kidium.

Selfishly, Tyler wanted Seram to return so he could turn over his priestly duties and pursue the pleasures that awaited him in perneem. He’d thought long and hard about the Vereen and her possible Onyalum possession, but decided he didn’t care one way or the other. So what if she were the cause of his fantasies, it was why he had come here wasn’t it? Even if she were Onyalum, what possible damage could she inflict on this primitive world? She was a priestess of a dead cult with nothing more than addicts as followers. Her threat to him or the planet was insignificant at best.

After finally arriving at his decisions, the pull of the cavern and its promise of perneem grew stronger with each passing day. He found it difficult to concentrate and knew he’d lost track several times while performing prayers and rituals. He’d accidentally switched words or phrases, and more than once, strayed into other sermons. He knew the villagers might have noticed, but fervently hoped most were blaming it on Samil’s old age. If they thought him addle, it was better than the truth. Tyler didn’t need additional guilt created by the truth.

Since the argument with Sherim, he no longer lived with her and her husband, but sought solitude inside the temple. It was protected from the villager’s prying eyes and questioning looks and provided him with ample opportunities to duck out unnoticed. Sherim brought food, but she rarely spoke or looked him in the eyes. She knew her father was lost and she longed for Seram’s return so that the grief in her life might finally be consumed by his senseless addiction. Tyler had no doubt she regretted saving his life from that tragic fall. If only she knew she hadn’t been the guardian angel.

He accepted her withdrawal and welcomed it for the freedom it provided. He’d interfered with her world by denying her that which she desperately deserved—her father’s death. He would help widen the gap between them, thus preparing her for the eventual loss she’d already been cheated. Tyler knew he still had to take the pilgrimage to Malane, but he didn’t plan on returning.

He made his way into the Zerum and prepared for bed. Since leaving Sherim’s home, he found the solitude of the temple a peaceful place to rest his drug depraved body. He rarely slept but tossed and turned as the perneem withdrawal consumed his every waking thought. Unlike the previous withdrawal when Samil was revived, this episode sapped his strength and threatened to overwhelm him. It was as if his Onyalum spirit was also addicted to the pleasures denied without the perneem.

He shook beneath the covers as his body fought the power of the drug. Visions of the Vereen, Joriss, Linda, and Toosia naked and receptive filled his mind with temptations while denying the sleep he sorely needed. He felt Samil’s older body wearing down from the painful withdrawal. Even the strength of his Onyalum spirit could not stave off the damage caused by his need for the drug.

He began to wonder whether the old man’s body would finally give out and die from the lack of the deadly narcotic. Tyler didn’t know how much was physical and how much was mental, but he feared the combination could prove fatal if left untended. He searched Samil’s memories for any references of a person beating the addiction or dying from it, but he found nothing.

A sound in the back of the Zerum startled him, and he sat upright peering into the darkness. For a brief moment, he thought he caught a glimpse of red eyes glowing from the ceiling overhead. His body shivered with the memory of that fateful night after Samil’s fall. Was he near death? Was the sayther coming to take his soul? He couldn’t concentrate as his mind rushed with powerful cravings that threatened to pull him from bed and send him running back to the Vereen.

Rivulets of perspiration ran down his forehead, stinging his eyes as more sounds emanated from the darkness. In his feverish mind, he prayed for the sayther to come and free him from the painful bondage that threatened his mind and body. He glanced into the darkness and saw red eyes moving towards him as though fulfilling his wish.

A deep fear seized him as the eyes danced their slow march to his bed. He both feared and welcomed the pending death, dreading the return to silence, yet desperate to end the torture that held him firm. This is a fitting punishment! The thought braced him for the inevitable conclusion.

The eyes grew large and Tyler locked onto them, awaiting his fate. They finally broke into the dim light of his bedside candle, morphing from a sayther into the body of Joriss. He smiled at the hallucination that came to comfort him during his trial.

“He … hel … lo.” He said in a shaky voice.

“Shhh.” Joriss’s sweet voice calmed as she reached out to stroke him gently. “I am here, Samil, I will help you.”

Tyler felt relief and pain at her presence when he realized she was real. She reminded him of the sexual pleasures he desperately needed, but could not have. Was she here to torture him further? Was this a demon sent by Gamel to haunt him? The Demon plagued by demons—the irony was just.

She placed a small bag on the floor and pulled out various vials and containers setting them delicately on the bedside stand.

“I have something that will ease your pain.” She poured the contents of a bottle into a small cup and helped Tyler rise to drink it. “It is a special blend of herbs that the Vereen uses when we are feeling the pain. Even we do not take perneem every day—it might kill us if we did.”

Tyler took the sweet liquid and felt instant warmth spread through his body. With it, his mind was immediately eased as he swam lazily in a drunken stupor. He smiled mischievously at Joriss. “I missed … you.” The words slurred out his mouth slowly, and he laughed at the mispronunciation.

Joriss smiled and took a sip from the cup as if to join him in this new experience. It was wonderful. He giggled uncontrollably, unable to stop himself as he grabbed Joriss when she began to giggle from the same delirious effects.

“Slop it,” she pleaded through laughter as the mispronunciation led them into a new round of hysterics. Tyler’s side flared in pain as his injury was stretched by the uncontrollable fit. This new feeling made him laugh harder, and Joriss joined him, helpless to stop.

He pulled her on top of him and began to undress her as she laughed harder while assisting the removal of clothes, tossing them haphazardly to the floor. In like fashion, she removed his, tickling him in the process.

The two lay naked as hands rubbed each other from top to bottom. They pulled the covers over and clung to each other to spread warmth. Slowly, the giggling abated as the effects quickly wore off.

Tyler held her tightly, brushing back hair from her eyes. Tears fell onto the pillow as she wept in his arms quietly. He comforted her, glad she’d come to comfort him. Tyler didn’t know how long it took, but both fell to sleep dreaming empty dreams with peaceful minds.

* * * *

It had been a week since Joriss had snuck into the temple, and Tyler was still happy for the company. Between the perneem and the herbal concoctions the Vereen made, both enjoyed themselves while feeling nearly normal during the day. Tyler even began to perform his duties without the constant mistakes and the unstoppable shaking.

They were careful to hide Joriss from the rest of the villagers, as her presence would be viewed as nothing less than an evil omen. During the day, Tyler held his services and vigils awaiting Seram’s return, but during the night he spent it enthralled with Joriss, consumed by their addictions. Every night his fantasies would change. One night it was Linda, the next Toosia, once it was even the small jelly-like creatures he’d met so long ago.

He didn’t care what fantasy played out, as long as it did. He was lost in the perneem and spent much of the day in anticipation of the night’s activities. Each morning he sipped more of the herbal remedy to ease the cravings, but it did not stop his insatiable desires. Even Joriss found it difficult to concentrate on anything other than the next time together. It was exactly what Tyler was searching for, and he gave himself wholly to it.

His painful past slid from his mind as he focused on the fantastical illusions created by the perneem. In its grip, he found himself reunited with lost loves and lost pleasures. The painful departures from those distant worlds no longer mattered when locked in a sexual embrace. Although it was Joriss he woke to, the nighttime held true loves.

Samil’s daughter finally severed all communication with her father and Tyler was grateful for the reprieve despite the concerns and fears it caused the rest of the villagers. He sank deeper into the grasp of the perneem, and the further he fell, the smaller his concerns for the villagers or Sherim. This was not his world, their problems were not his problems, and their god was not his god.

He kept up appearances as proper for his position, but his efforts grew minimal as time went by. Even while standing at the podium leading the people in prayers, his only thoughts were of Joriss and the escape they would enjoy that night. This dichotomy of prayer during the day and sin during the night kept Tyler pre-occupied and forgetful of Seram.

Tyler had finished the last of the daily prayers and sent the villagers back to their homes to continue the wait. He closed the door behind them and locked it tightly before rushing through the chapel into the Zerum and the paradise that awaited him.

He opened the doors to the inner sanctum locking them from the inside. He wanted to be certain no one would interrupt them when they went through their ritual intoxication. Considering what they would do to each other, it would have been unfortunate if Sherim barged in. Besides the impropriety inside the temple, Joriss was younger than Sherim.

Of course, after such a hard life, Joriss looked much older than her years. He wondered how the Vereen stayed so youthful considering her own addiction. Did she have some powerful potion that provided her with the fountain of youth? Tyler’s thoughts drifted back to an Onyalum. It would explain her youthful appearance, and seemingly unbounded energy in the face of such a powerful narcotic. He shook his head to remove those thoughts. He no longer cared about those things, he only cared about his daily pleasures.

He found Joriss sitting against one of the large book cases lining much of the room. She sat on the floor holding an enormous text she’d found on one of the shelves. A dip into Samil’s memories recalled the text as one of the newer scriptures written a couple thousand years earlier by a great and powerful Pretarch who’d documented visions of Gamel in the large tome.

A further exploration of the memories recounted a tale in the text about a distant time before Gesh and before the modern church. It was an innocent time when Gamel had finished creating the world and spent most of his time teaching his creations the wisdom and words of his ways. During that time, there were no prayers, no rituals, and no rules to fetter the people. They lived, loved and died under the watchful eye of their Creator.

Tyler thought the story boring and didn’t see wisdom or lessons to be learned from it. If anything, it taught them to see the world as it once was instead of how it was today. Tyler thought it taught the people to hate their god for what he had taken away instead of the promise he held out to tempt them into obedience. It was probably why the church rarely taught from the book.

Joriss looked up at Tyler with eyes filled with tears. “I cannot read what this says, but the pictures show a world I wish we lived in. Tell me what this book and those pictures mean?”

Tyler wasn’t sure if he wanted to tell her the truth. Sometimes it is better not knowing what you’re missing.

“It is called the Book of Terel, a man who had once been the Grand Pretarch of Gamel.” Tyler decided the truth couldn’t hurt anymore than she’d already been hurt. “In it, he recounts dreams that he says were provided by god.”

She looked at the book, confused despite the additional information. “But what are these pictures? Is it a dream of the future and the planet we will once again see, or is it just a dream?”

Tyler could see she was searching for some reason for her world. She’d turned away from the religion after being banned from her village, but like everyone on the planet, she’d been indoctrinated throughout her childhood. Tyler suspected she yearned for the comfort of explanations the religious stories provided. Without them, you were left with a harsh planet, harsh rules, and no future to look forward to. At least through religious doctrine, you could wish for the lush paradise living side by side with your god.

Tyler was silent in indecision. He wanted to lift her spirits if for no other reason than to get high, but a small part of him felt sorry for the poor girl. She was a simple person trying to cope in a strange and complex world. She was conflicted by her feelings and desires that had cost her a home. Now, all she had was a life of decadence and sin.

“It is just a dream, Joriss.” He felt guilty he couldn’t provide more comfort with his lie, but he didn’t think she would understand an idyllic past taken away by a vengeful god. He didn’t know what beliefs she still held, but considering what little else she had, he didn’t want to take those away.

They ate dinner in silence, the incident decidedly sending Joriss into depression. He ate quietly while his mind raced through ways he could get her to his same level of desire. He hated this world and he hated his existence, to him this was only an escape, an escape from the lives he’d unjustly lost. Visions of Linda and Toosia still haunted him and he desperately needed Joriss to provide him their illusory pleasures.

He pushed his plate to the center of the table and sat back. Joriss stared solemnly into her food, mostly untouched. How could he cheer her up? He had no words of comfort to provide. This was a world of sacrifice and suffering, and nothing he could do would change that. Their only pleasure was that which they found in each other. Perhaps it no longer was enough for Joriss, perhaps she was searching for something more—something spiritual.

“You’ve barely touched your food,” he said quietly, “are you feeling all right?”

She looked up with a blank expression, tears welling in her eyes. “I do not know if I am all right.” Her head sank again, tears falling onto her plate.

Tyler knew his chances were quickly dissipating unless he could find a way to comfort her. “Come, sit on the bed with me and tell me what is bothering you.”

He moved to the bed and sat with his back against the headboard patting the space next to him. She smiled weakly before getting up from the table to lie in his arms.

As soon as she’d nestled in, the tears poured down her face. He rocked her gently, waiting for the stream to subside. He remembered a time long ago when Linda had done the same thing. At that time, she’d been crying about something she’d seen at work. Tyler never understood why it had upset her, but looking back, he began to suspect that she, too, had recognized that which she had lost—her family.

Joriss finally controlled her tears and looked into Tyler’s face with questions he feared he couldn’t answer.

“Tell me of Gamel.” She pleaded. “Tell me why our God has forsaken us and left us to live this terrible existence.” She wiped her eyes, a look of angry resolve filling the sadness that had been there before. “Tell me why I must lose my village and my life because I loved a man, a man I was to marry.”

Tyler was afraid to answer. He didn’t care about Gamel or this world, and felt exactly as she did. Why did the god turn against them and force them to live in such harsh conditions while withholding the bounties the mountains held? What could he say? What did she want to hear? He let the essence of Samil answer, something he had done many times in debates with his daughter.

“Because we had forsaken him, he wanted to show us his love by punishing us, as any parent would an unruly child.”

Anger filled her face at the accusation that all of this was a parental dispute with its child. “This is how he shows his love!” She spat the words unable to contain herself. “This is our God? A God that forsakes his people because they misbehave? What parent would do that? Why would a parent do that?” She sat up next to Tyler, her fists clenched ready for battle against this parent who took punishment to the extreme.

“I do not understand it myself, and I have spent my life studying it.” Tyler had to admit, neither he nor Samil found understanding in the religious tenets of this world. Pain and suffering were not the beliefs either wanted in their life. It was one reason why Samil had lost faith.

“I lost everything because I loved a boy—a boy that loved me back. We were to be married after his trial—after he took over the temple. We were so happy then—and we believed in Gamel. We believed he approved and looked over us with blessings.”

Tyler saw a brief smile cross her face when she mentioned her lost love. He thought about Linda and Toosia and realized that Joriss must see her lost love when they made love under the influence of the perneem. Tyler felt a pang of jealousy even though he did the same.

“What was his name?” He asked wanting to prolong her brief happiness.

“Mineran, and he was … wonderful.” She stared longingly at the ceiling as though he hovered overhead. “Why did Gamel take him during the trial? Why would he deny us the real love we had for each other? Mineran worshipped Gamel but was prematurely taken from this world while his love was banished from their village. What kind of God is that?”

Tyler thought back to Samil’s trial, but nothing he could recall would answer her questions. “It is a harsh trial, Joriss, and many do not return. Do not think it was because of you—he simply didn’t have what it takes to survive. It takes more than faith to survive in the desert.”

“How did you survive?” She asked accusingly, as though he had some unknown secret to beat the system.

“To this day, I do not know.” It was at least the truth. Samil never understood why he had survived the trial. At the time, he'd assumed like everyone else that Gamel had watched over him and his faith had saved him from the desert death. But after losing that faith, he looked back at the trial with a sense of awe and mystery. If he didn’t believe his god watched over him, then how had he survived?

“He is a mean and harsh God, and I wouldn’t worship him even if it meant my life.” She snuggled back into Tyler. “I have more perneem, would you like some?”

Finally, she said the words he had been waiting for. Like him, the power of escaping to her lost love was too strong to be overthrown by the depression she’d felt earlier.

“Yes.” He thought about Linda and hoped she would fill his experience with her beauty.

Joriss jumped from the bed and pulled out the pipe from her bag, running to the bed excited. Tyler felt the same and his body responded in anticipation of the pending pleasure.

Joriss noticed his excitement and giggled like a girl. “Don’t get too far ahead, I want this, too!”

Tyler smiled embarrassed. “Sorry, sometimes my body moves faster than my mind.”

“More likely the other way around.” She teased gently.

After loading the contents, they both took deep inhalations that burned Tyler’s lungs despite his steady use. Almost instantly, the room pulsated with a red glow as the narcotic entered his system.

Both knelt on the bed disrobing each other in preparation for the sexual frenzy that would come. Naked and sweating, he rose to her, searching for her warm embrace. Likewise, she opened up, grabbing him to fill her as both became lost in the euphoric effects. Consumed by the drug, Joriss changed from the squat girl of Gamel into the elegant woman of Earth, Linda. Once again, Tyler lost himself in the fantasy, happiness filling him as his Linda took care of his every desire.

Both were lost in their fantasies, making love again and again as if for the first time. Tyler was certain Joriss saw Mineran when she looked at Samil, but he didn’t care as long as Linda entertained him.

Tyler didn’t know how long they had been at it, or how many times they’d reached the zenith, but he began to tire as the perneem slowly wore off. He arched in ecstasy one last time before falling to the side exhausted. Both lay naked, sweat gleaming in the pale candlelight as their breaths slowed from the demanding exertions. Sleep threatened Tyler, and he welcomed the new escape nearly as much as the perneem.

A sound in the back of the room startled him from his dozing and he stared into the blackness searching for the cause. There it was, this time closer.

He squinted into the gloom to see what was coming. As though confirming his worst fears, glowing red eyes peered into the room, bobbing up and down as they made their way toward the bed. Tyler was helpless, as his body was spent after the sexual activities.

He envisioned the sayther coming into the light, its dark claws and sharp teeth ripping into their naked flesh, tearing them apart while they lay helpless. He tried to move or scream to awaken Joriss, but he was held immobile by the drugs he could not escape. He was paralyzed by fear and exhaustion. It didn’t matter, they were both defenseless.

The eyes drew nearer as Tyler shook with fear of the inevitable. He knew he couldn’t die, but he didn’t want to give up Samil’s life … at least not yet.

The eyes and body of the sayther entered the dim circular glow of the candle and was every bit as horrible as Tyler remembered. The creature moved silently next to the bed, its long limbs carrying it lightly with glowing red eyes focused menacingly, prepared for the attack.

Tyler lay motionless as the beast hovered overhead, sniffing gently to determine what they’d been doing. Tyler knew it was obvious to anyone, even he could smell the pungent odors of their bodies after the sexual exercises. But he couldn’t move, he couldn’t scream, and he couldn’t escape the danger.

Slowly the sayther unsheathed a large claw and gently began tearing through Tyler’s chest, blood spraying through the ripped flesh. The sayther pulled the claw down from the top of Tyler’s chest to his groin. The claw burned as the tearing sounds were etched deep into Tyler’s soul.

The creature stopped short of his genitals, satisfied with the gaping wound it had created. Grabbing each side with both clawed hands, it pulled open his chest, tearing muscles and wrenching bones not intended to open in such a manner. Tyler screamed silently from the horrible pain he was helpless to stop.

The sayther turned its red eyes towards Tyler and smiled as it sank a clawed hand deep into the gaping wound. Tyler felt the claws raking inside, the pain unbearable as fear seized his mind. But still he couldn’t move. He felt the claws latch onto something inside and felt the sayther slowly pull it out. It did not come easily and Tyler felt a wrenching tug as the sayther tried to extract it against its will.

Finally the hand surfaced in a fountain of blood, clutching what looked like a head. As the head oozed from his chest, it turned towards him screaming through a very human mouth. It was Tyler’s Earth face staring back at him. As though giving up the battle, the Earth Tyler was wrenched from his chest, screaming as the sayther roared into the night.

The missing body left behind an emptiness that was more than Tyler could bear. He screamed while he struggled with consciousness. The sayther opened its mouth and tore into the bloody Tyler. He watched the horrific feast as Samil’s life faded with the loss of his Onyalum. Tyler clung desperately to life, trying to feed energy back into the shredded body. But try as he might, he could not stop the inevitable death that awaited him. Darkness filled his mind as the nightmarish vision faded and he was plunged into oblivion.

* * * *

Tyler bolted upright in bed, his startled scream echoing across the vast room. Remnants of the nightmare clung to his mind as he shook with fear. He clutched at his chest and was relieved to find it whole and complete. Nonetheless, a burning sensation ran from his throat to his groin, and in his mind, he felt the ripping claw tearing at his flesh. He lay back down trying to calm himself. Joriss slept quietly, nightmares apparently not plaguing her rest. He reached for their scattered covers, and was stopped by a sound at the nearby table.

“I see you’ve been busy while I was away.” The voice was eerily quiet, yet easily penetrated the gloom.

Tyler tried to pull covers over he and Joriss, but couldn’t quite cover them all. Who was at the table? He vaguely recognized the voice, but through his drug dulled mind, he struggled to put a face to it.

“I … uh … I guess.” He didn’t know how to respond to the faceless body eating quietly.

The voice continued. “The will of the flesh is strong. I understand that now.”

Finally it came to Tyler and he was wracked with guilt at the realization. It was Seram, he had survived his trial and had returned to find his master desecrating their temple. Tyler didn’t know what to do; he was caught red handed. What would Seram do? What could he do?

“I … I am glad to see you, Seram—you survived.” It sounded lame, but his mind was reeling with the implications of his situation. What if they banished him as Joriss’s village had banished her? Where would he go? Would the Vereen look after him?

“Perhaps you are glad to see me, but considering your current state of affairs—I doubt it.”

Seram remained calm and ate quietly as Tyler got out of bed quickly donning his clothes. It took more than a moment as he searched for them scattered about the room.

He tried to make small talk, the distant back of Seram unnerving. “How did the trial go?” He regretted the question as soon as he had asked.

Seram turned around and stared darkly into Tyler’s eyes. “How do you think it went? You’ve been there, why must you ask?”

Tyler fell silent as he looked back at a changed man. He expected to see a swollen and burnt face, seared by the desert heat. Instead, a tan face, determined and serious, stared back. He looked even better than before he’d left.

“Your … your face is so … smooth.” Tyler finished quietly, unable to believe anyone could return from such an ordeal with so little damage. It had taken Samil nearly a month to recover from his trial, but Seram appeared none the worse for wear—except those eyes. They stared from a face that looked years beyond the boy who’d left not long ago.

Seram ignored the comment and continued eating. “Do you intend on marrying this girl?”

The question caught Tyler off guard, and he stopped while considering what the question meant. Marry her? He had never even considered the possibility. Their age difference was too extreme, and their world would never accept such a situation.

“No.”

Seram turned back once more to stare at Tyler. “Then why are you with her? Why do you defile her with your perversions?”

Tyler had not been prepared for the attack and he felt a twinge of anger at the impertinence. “I am not defiling her—we have a mutual need.”

Seram took in his words and looked up and down as though searching him for the truth. Tyler felt exposed but let anger rise up to protect him.

“I will not be judged by you, Seram—you have never known love and lost it. She and I … well … we have lost love and mourn its absence everyday.”

Seram returned to his food. “I have known love—just not the love you speak of.”

Tyler’s anger cooled. The young man clearly had faith in his god, and his ordeal in the desert apparently strengthened that faith.

“I know all about you, Samil.”

Tyler grew nervous from the comment. What did he know, and how?

“What do mean?” He asked quickly.

“I know of the love you lost—the love you have betrayed—and the faith you have forsaken.” Seram paused as though debating whether to add to the laundry list of Samil’s faults. “I know of your addiction to perneem, and the orgies you partake in. You have fallen far from your God, Samil … perhaps too far.”

Seram put down his spoon and turned back once more. The look on his face was dour and Tyler waited for him to say he knew about the Onyalum inside.

“I know about the sins of the flesh—I am not as naive as you assume. In the desert I was tempted by those sins, and they were hard to deny—hard to deny a mind that screamed to stop the torture and partake in the worldly pleasures that I forgo. But my faith kept me alive … kept me … pure.”

What did he mean tempted by the flesh? Did he mean the hunger and thirst that was the trial or did he experience more than that? The words ‘worldly pleasures’ and ‘kept me pure’ had specific connotations, and Tyler wondered what trial this man had undergone.

“Perhaps I have fallen, but it is my own choosing and not your concern.” Tyler didn’t like the way this conversation was heading, and he quickly wanted to remind Seram of the positions they held in relation to each other.

“It may not be of my concern, but it will be yours when you meet my God.” Seram’s voice, though calm, held a nasty note of warning.

Tyler thought about the pending pilgrimage to Malane and wondered if the tales of their god were true. Would he return as predicted? What would he do to those without faith? The holy texts didn’t paint pretty pictures for the wicked. Tyler thought of Thosolan and of the angry god who had wanted Adanni destroyed and he wondered which one Gamel would be like. He hoped Thosolan.

“I will cross that road when the time comes—if it comes.”

Joriss woke to the sounds of their conversation and she seemed embarrassed that Seram had seen her in her current state. She dressed quickly, not saying a word as the two men debated.

Seram watched her finish dressing and addressed her by name. “Joriss, I see embarrassment in your eyes.”

The accusation stung Tyler and he watched as tears fell from Joriss’s eyes. Considering her delicate nature from the night before, this incident didn’t make her situation any more bearable.

“I … I should go.” She grabbed her bag and moved into the back of the Zerum towards the secret passageway that had let her in a week before.

Seram’s voice stopped her. “Gamel loves you, Joriss.”

She turned around and stared in disbelief at this man she had never met. Through the tears that fell down her face, she retorted in anger. “What do you know of Gamel—or love?”

“I know that he is sorry for taking Mineran.”

The statement caught both of them off guard. How did Seram know about Mineran? How did he know Joriss’s name? Tyler saw the same thoughts surging through her mind as she stared blankly.

“I … I … I don’t care that he is sorry … he ruined my life and I cannot forgive him!”

“But he forgives you, Joriss. He knows he ruined your life. He loved you both and never wanted to take Mineran away, but Mineran’s faith was not strong enough to get him through the trial.” He paused as though considering his next words carefully. “He did not have enough faith because his heart belonged to you.”

It was more than Joriss could take and she fell to her knees crying as she relived that terrible loss once more. Tyler didn’t know whether to comfort her or let her be. He couldn’t believe Seram could say such things to her—such hurtful things.

“He still loves you, Joriss, and he has plans for you when he returns. He knows that he doesn’t deserve your faith, but he recognizes that you still have it—despite your anger.” Seram stood and moved towards the sobbing woman, passing Tyler as though he didn’t exist. “He knows you deserve better than this, and you shall have it and more when he returns to show his love.”

Joriss looked up at Seram, tears moist on her cheeks, as a quiet calm spread across her face. “He will?” She asked meekly, taking Seram’s hand as he helped her from the floor.

“Yes,” Seram said gently, helping her gather herself before heading toward the secret door, “you will help him save our world.”

She smiled meekly at the thought of being wanted by their god. Did he really want her to save the world? Tyler could see the thought swimming through her mind. All that she had lost could once again be found if only she turned back to the God she had forsaken. Tyler felt sick with the implications. How could she fall for such an outright lie?

“What are you saying, Seram? How do you know what Gamel has planned for her? Or for anyone for that matter?” Tyler rushed to Joriss and freed her from Seram’s grasp. “Can’t you see she has suffered? Why would you torture her with these false promises of a better world? At least with me she knows what she is getting.”

Seram smiled at Joriss before giving Tyler a warning look. Tyler ignored him and helped Joriss to the door. He said goodbye and told her he would come see her soon. She grabbed his hand before leaving and thrust the pipe and the drugs into it.

“Here, you need these more than I do.”

With that she turned and disappeared into the dark passage, only the glow of the lichen lighting her way.

Tyler stared at the paraphernalia she’d handed him. What did she mean he needed it more than she? Was she not also addicted? Didn’t she, too, yearn for the escape perneem provided?

He shoved them into his pocket and walked back to Seram. “Well, thank you for your titillating testimony, apparently your trial fed the word of god into you.”

“Do not seek her again, Samil.” Seram’s voice was low and serious.

“Or what? You’ll bring down the wrath of god on me?” Tyler was fuming. Who was this young upstart come back to preach to him? “My needs and my business are just that, mine!”

Seram stared calmly. “You have been warned.”

Tyler returned his look unflinching. “Fine, I am warned. Now what? Do you plan on kicking me out of the temple? Taking over as is your right?”

“You will not kick you out of the temple, Samil, but yes, I will take over as is my right.”

Tyler thought about that, a part of him wanted to get kicked out, but concern for where he would go overrode his resolve. “And will you tell the village of my indiscretions?”

Seram stood up and walked towards the door. He turned before leaving and responded quietly. “They deserve to know the truth, Samil, but I won’t do that to them.” He paused before grabbing the door and unlocking it. “Besides, I would not do that to Sherim—she has suffered enough.”

Tyler couldn’t respond before Seram shut the door. His emotions ran the gamut of anger, to guilt, to shame. He had wanted this life, wanted the addiction that kept him from the truth, but it was costing other people too much, and causing him far more pain in the process. He thought about ending Samil’s life, but a vision of Toosia in ecstasy flooded his mind, and he knew he was too weak to take the easy path.

Visions

It had been several months since Seram had returned, and Tyler’s life had not improved. It was only weeks before the pilgrimage to the Holy City of Malane, and although Tyler desperately wanted to leave the village and the people who treated him like a doddering old fool, he didn’t look forward to the prospects of traveling with so many holy men.

To worsen his situation, he’d not seen Joriss since that fateful night Seram had caught them together. Although his interest in Joriss was purely physical, now that she was gone, he found he genuinely missed her. Her disappearance did not prevent him from pursuing his pleasures in the cavern, but Joriss had filled a gaping hole in his life—a need for intimacy.

Tyler settled into a routine pattern where he assisted Seram during prayers and rituals, but disappeared for his debauchery several times a week. Seram disapproved of Tyler’s habits, but he did not ask Tyler to leave or preach when Tyler returned. That suited Tyler fine.

The trips to the cavern held less enjoyment, and the increasing nightmares of vicious saythers weighed heavily on his mind. He rarely slept and when he did, the dreams were horror movies where he was hunted. These dreams aggravated his waking hours and pulled him further into the fantasy perneem provided. He knew he was on the roller coaster ride of addiction, and the longer he rode, the faster it would go. You could never get off, and eventually, you would crash.

Fanciful thoughts of quitting perneem periodically ran through his mind, but the bonds of its erotic effects were too strong for Tyler to break. He would remain addicted until Samil’s body finally gave out from the regular abuse.

Unfortunately, Samil’s health became a constant worry as Tyler felt chest pains on his regular trips to and from the cavern. His Onyalum spirit had yet to find a way to fix the damaged old man and an unhealthy life caused further damage to his failing flesh. He often pondered the pending death, wondering what he would do and where he would go.

Would he find another on Gamel, leading it into the same pit of darkness? Or would he seek out another world, one that offered even more exotic drugs to dull his mind and lose his soul? He’d cross that bridge when the time came. For now, he was content to abuse the body he had.

Powerful images of his pending sexual pleasures preoccupied him as he made his way through the dim glow of lichen in the lonely cavern. Samil’s body automatically traversed the well trodden path from memories of a hundred trips. Tyler rarely paid attention to the surroundings as his mind danced with delicious illusions of Toosia or Linda.

Despite the nightmares plaguing his sleep, the pleasurable experience he’d first found in perneem only increased in intensity. Regardless of the partners he chose, he always envisioned Linda, Toosia, or both, and forever tried to recapture the emotional feelings he’d had for both women. He knew his sexual exploits didn’t match the real Linda or Toosia—he’d never enjoyed such debauchery with either of them. It was simply fantasy—a fantasy he couldn’t ignore. He wanted more, and nothing would stand in his way.

He neared the small passage that opened into the final cavern when he heard something slide on the dirt back along his path. He turned to see who was following, and in the gloom, he spotted a dark figure moving toward him. It was difficult to make out their shape, but considering their difficulty traversing the path, he assumed it wasn’t a sayther. The demons were far more agile than the squat people of this world.

He stopped in indecision and ran through a short list of people who might follow him. Then again, he realized they might not be following him at all. One more lone traveler making his way to the cave of inequity? It was as likely an explanation as any. But it could be Seram wanting to follow him to the cave to preach to all the lost souls consumed by their hedonistic desires.

Tyler discounted that quickly. Seram had changed, his faith clearly stronger than ever, but his actions rarely indicated he was an evangelist looking to save the unbelievers. As far as Tyler could tell, Seram’s only concern was for the people of their village.

Tyler heard the distinctive sound of another foot slipping on loose dirt and watched as the dark figure temporarily disappeared below the rocks bordering the path. Tyler was uncertain whether he should confront the person or continue his journey. Something tugged at his consciousness—was it guilt? Perhaps the person was injured and needed assistance? What if they were dying? Could Tyler just leave them to suffer? What if they died in the cave? How could he walk past the corpse later and not feel extraordinary guilt?

Tyler could tell they were having trouble with the path. Samil’s memories gave him a definite edge navigating the dim corridor, but this person’s difficulty seemed incongruent with the relative ease of the walk.

Damn! Tyler cursed the stranger. They were probably in distress, and he would have to help. What were they thinking navigating this cave when in trouble? They should have stayed on the ridge and followed it to one of the villages dotting the desert floor. He could no longer ignore their progress and decided to confront them.

“Hello?” He called into the gloom, the sound reverberating off the cathedral ceiling like music in a concert hall. “I am Samil, do you need help?”

The dark figure stopped, and Tyler thought he saw an arm wave in response to his query. He listened for a voice but only heard the shuffling of feet against the loose earth.

Damn them, why don’t they answer?

Tyler’s impatience almost forced him to turn away and let them fend for themselves, but guilt held him fast. He gritted his teeth and decided he would wait for them to catch up. Considering their distance, he would have to climb a considerable part of the slope to reach them.

He could still see them struggling along the path, but making very slow progress. He thought he saw their arm wave once more, but he wasn’t quite sure as they disappeared behind a large stalagmite. He waited for them to clear the obstacle before calling out, but they never re-appeared. Now what?

He waited another minute before deciding they’d stopped for some unknown reason.

“Are you all right?” He called into the silence.

No response.

Indecision gripped him. Should he see if they needed help or forget them and move on? Maybe it was some game, and they wanted him to come back for some nefarious reasons. A part of his mind cried “flee” while another demanded “help”.

Help won out, though Tyler wasn’t certain why. He had to see who it was and what was wrong. If it was Sherim, or someone else from his village, he couldn’t leave them alone in the dark cave. What was the worst that could happen? He could die? Big deal, he’d done that before.

He trudged up the path when he thought he heard a small voice cry out. He couldn’t hear words though he thought “help” may have been part of it. He quickened his pace and deftly moved through the darkness toward the large stalagmite.

Minutes later, he rounded the immense column and saw a figure sprawled face down in the dirt. Although their face remained hidden, up close, he could tell they were female. Their clothing was ragged and looked as if they’d crawled most of the way to the cave. The hands were red and swollen as if blasted by a blow torch, and the hair was a stringy mess plastered to their head. Dirt covered the body from head to toe, and the exposed feet looked raw and bloody.

Tyler knelt to turn them over, but the body was limp and pieces of clothing came off in his hands as he tried to grasp the lifeless form. Finding a firm grip underneath their arms, he rolled them onto their back.

The face that rolled into view startled Tyler with dark blisters obscuring much of the features. Red and swollen like their hands, the eyes were swollen shut from the blistering that could only be caused by exposure to the desert sun.

Was this a survivor of the Trial of Gesh? Tyler wondered, but was confused by their sex. How could a girl be a Pretal? It went against all religious tenets, although there weren't any specific laws banning it. He tried to revive them, but they remained unconscious. He had no first aid and nothing to eat or drink. Clearly he had to get help, and from the look of their condition, fast.

He was about to leave and make his way back to the Temple when he noticed a shape beneath the lifeless form’s shirt. It was a pendant attached to a string, and as he pulled it out, he instantly recognized it. He’d seen that necklace somewhere before, on someone he’d shared perneem with. Did he know this person? His brain searched wildly for an identity before he froze in realization.

Joriss? His mind fought against the dreadful despair he felt for the poor woman. Could it be her? How had this happened? He brushed the plastered hair from her face and looked deep into the swollen face, trying to glimpse the beautiful young girl beneath. He was almost sure he could make out her visage beneath the blisters, and tears welled in his eyes as he felt helpless to save her.

“Joriss, what has happened—who did this?” He cried to her lifeless form, unable to control his emotions. He hugged her gently, embracing her as if to feed his Onyalum spirit into her failing body. He thought about taking her back to the Temple, but remembered Seram’s warning. Bringing her back would not sit well with either Seram or Sherim. They were still far from the cavern, and he wasn’t certain he could carry her. Could she wait for him to return with help? He didn’t think so.

He kissed her cheek gently. “Hang in there, Joriss, I am taking you to help. Don’t you die on me—you are too young to die on me!” He gently wrapped her clothing around her and tried to lift her in his arms. She was too heavy and bulky for him to carry that way.

Damn it! He cursed Samil’s old body and its inability to handle something so basic. He sat on the ground cradling her head and thought about what he had with him. He had the large cloak that all Pretals wore, but he couldn’t imagine dragging her all the way to the cavern. The rocks and gravel would destroy his garment before they made it half way.

As he thought about the cloak he had an idea. A sling!

He removed the cloak and tied the bottom of it into a knot before tying together the arms to make a loop that went around his chest. He laid it out on the ground and gently moved Joriss’s body into the makeshift sling. He slipped the looped arms around his right shoulder and over his chest before grabbing the knotted end with his left hand. He pulled hard until he held the knot in both his hands at his abdomen. Her weight was now distributed across his shoulders and back, and it was much easier to carry her, although it took a great deal of effort to get her off the ground.

With her body wrapped around his back inside the cocoon, he slowly began making his way down the path towards the distant cavern and help.

His chest burned from the exertions, but he fought against it using his Onyalum spirit, refreshing the life force as best he could. It was a long road ahead, but Tyler was determined to get her to safety. He wasn’t going to let her die—even if it cost Samil’s life.

* * * *

It took a couple hours for Tyler to get Joriss to the cavern, but he finally succeeded, collapsing outside the entrance to a crowd of shocked patrons. Tyler’s chest pounded with the pain of a heart near breaking and his eyes saw through dark spots that flashed in and out as he tried to recover from his exertions.

He felt hands grabbing him, removing the sling and carrying him inside the cavern. There were familiar noises and glimpses of light as they carried him through the bar into the back corridor. Voices yelled across the room, but Tyler couldn’t make out what they said as he barely clung to consciousness. His chest burned as if from the inside. He thought about River Red and was overcome with despair.

They carried him into one of the many rooms lining the corridor, but he could no longer cling to awareness as he succumbed to the cooling darkness that took the burning away. He was certain Samil’s body was dying, but he was willing to leave it if it meant Joriss lived. He waited in the darkness for the pop that would signal the release of his spirit, but nothing happened. He floated quietly in the darkness, a cool sensation washing through his mind.

It was similar to that distant meeting with the Universe. It, too, had been pure black except for the pieces of his essence swirling around him. He tried to sense them but felt nothing. It was as if he were only a consciousness, floating in a dark sea, no sense of touch, sight, or sound. After so much pain, he embraced the soothing blackness.

He let his mind go, releasing the tension, the anguish and the stress. He concentrated on floating through the void, urging the blackness to rock him on gentle waves. If this was real death, he welcomed it. The nothingness was peaceful and relaxing.

Like a baby disturbed from its lullaby, Tyler felt something pull harshly. He fought it, wanting only peace the darkness provided, but the pulling wouldn’t stop. He struggled but realized he was losing the battle as an unknown force dragged him from the cool darkness into a hot fire of chaos.

Intense sounds and sensations invaded his consciousness as he thrashed in reaction to the rude awakening. Strong hands gripped him, trying to force him down on a soft bed. Voices yelled at Samil, but Tyler ignored their pleas. He wanted peace and oblivion, but they would not let him return.

His chest pounded and burned, but began to subside as his body adjusted to the life force his spirit poured into it. He stopped thrashing and stared into the faces of strangers. Sweat poured from their exhausted expressions, and their eyes took on a look of desperation. Slowly they released their grip and stood back in obvious relief. Another face leaned into view and Tyler recognized the Vereen, her beauty unmarred by the violent episode he’d just survived.

“Are you back, Samil?” Her voice was sultry and soothing, the pain in his chest eased by its lyrical tones.

What magic did this woman possess? “I feel bet … ter.” The words were hard to speak, but his body slowly returned to normal. It must have been a heart attack, what else would have caused such pain? How had he survived? He wasn’t certain he was happy he had. He grabbed the Vereen’s hand and looked into her eyes. “Jor … riss?” Was all that came out.

The Vereen smiled, satisfied he was back with the living. “She is fine, Samil, you saved her life.”

She lifted his head and made him sip a foul substance. He trusted her implicitly, and as the liquid brought sleep, he once again felt the beckoning darkness and peace. The world around him faded as he smiled at the Vereen one final time. “Thanks.”

* * * *

Tyler was inside a large temple, old and deteriorating. It was nearly dark except for a soft light entering from high in the center of a domed ceiling. The light from outside the temple pierced the gloom like lasers. Where it hit the floor, a raised platform stood in stark relief to the emptiness of the surrounding room.

Tyler was confused. Where was he? What was this place? He had difficulty remembering what had happened or why he was there. He felt a pain in his chest, and a burning sensation ran from his throat to his groin.

His life as an Onyalum was crystal clear, but what or who he currently had become was not. A name rose out of the depths, and with it memories of a stark world. Samil. He was Samil and he was on Gamel, a world abandoned by their god, struggling to survive.

But where was he? What had he been doing? He vaguely remembered the cavern and the Vereen. Had they been making love? Was this a hallucination brought on by perneem? He wasn’t sure why, but it didn’t add up.

He looked around the strange temple and wondered whether this were actually Gamel or somewhere else in the Universe. It was larger than any temple in the villages. Was this an inner part of the Vereen’s cavern? Perhaps this was Malane? Had they made their pilgrimage? That didn’t add up either.

He was thinking of it as a temple but he didn’t know why. Where am I? He was both confused and frightened. The room was eerily silent, and he felt like he was locked in a mausoleum—a crypt from which he could not escape.

He yelled up to the domed ceiling, hoping someone outside would hear. “Hello, is there anyone out there? I need help.”

Only silence answered his pleas, and he was left pondering whether there were passages that led out of the large room. The dark edges around the light gave no indication of exits, and without some form of light, he was apprehensive to explore.

He suddenly spun around looking for the source of the sound from behind him. “Hello?” He called tentatively, not certain he actually wanted to meet anyone inside this dank chamber.

The words echoed off the ceiling, but the silence remained. He edged closer to the light, no longer comfortable near the darkness.

There it was again, like a sliding sound, or a slither. He grew nervous from the thought of anything slithering. He turned his ears from side to side, trying to pin down the location of the sound. Only silence. Damn! He was already regretting coming to this world but still felt anchored by the perneem’s grip. The stark creepiness of the planet was becoming more of a nightmare than an escape. Where am I?

Desperation rose to his throat as he searched wildly for an escape. A click from behind startled him, making him jump nervously. Was that a door opening? No light revealed a passage.

There it was again, this time from a different direction. Suddenly clicking sounds emanated all around the dark edges of the room. He was surrounded, and they drew closer. But what?

“Who are you? What do you want?” He screamed like a madman as he backed onto the raised platform. His chest beat wildly and the burning sensation intensified. He gripped it, bending over as a sudden pain took his breath away. What was happening? Was he dying? Was Samil’s heart finally giving out?

The ominous sounds grew louder and Tyler fell to his knees staring blindly into the blackness, searching for the cause of his distress. Like evil Christmas lights, hundreds of red eyes lit the darkness with a menacing glow that promised death.

“Oh, god, no!” His pleas did not stop the eye’s persistent march towards him.

They moved into the light, and with them, the white fangs and claws of the saythers glowed menacingly. Their claws raked the hard floor, filling the silence with the awful clicking he’d heard before. Their faces were black grins baring sharp fangs dripping with saliva hungry for the taste of Tyler’s flesh. He had no illusions they wanted him.

The pain in his chest caused his breathing to burn in his lungs as he scrambled toward the center of the platform. He stood beneath the angelic beams of light and faced his doom grimly. What had brought him here? Why did they want him? What had he done to deserve this? Did they know he was an impostor and this was their revenge?

He stood shakily in the center of the stage as saythers drew near. Their red eyes pierced like knives seeking to tear out the Tyler within. He raised his fists in anger. “What is it you want? You cannot kill me?” He screamed hysterically. “You cannot destroy me. I will still go on!”

He felt Samil’s heart giving out, the last bits of life surrendering to the ravages of old age. The saythers sensed his escape and sprang onto the stage rushing in a black frenzy. As they reached him, he felt the ripping of claws as they shredded the old man’s body. Tyler watched the gruesome scene as it faded into bloody redness from the violent rending.

A voice cut through the melee, and Tyler opened his eyes to see the Vereen shaking his shoulders lightly.

“Samil, wake up.” Her voice was comforting after the nightmare he’d been through. “Are you all right?”

He lifted onto his elbows as the Vereen sat down on the bed next to him. “Yes, thank you. I was having a nightmare.”

“I’ll say.” She scanned him up and down, and it took Tyler a moment to realize he was soaked from the hellish ordeal. Had he been acting the nightmare out?

His chest burned slightly, but the pounding had gone. “I dreamed I was dying, and my heart was giving out.”

She smiled weakly and grabbed his hands. “You nearly did. I was able to save you, but just barely.” She stroked his head easing his frayed nerves. “What else do you remember?”

He searched his memories, and Joriss came rushing back. “Joriss, is she all right?” He suddenly needed to see her, to verify that she was alive.

“She is fine, Samil, perhaps better than you.” The Vereen assured him.

“But … where is she?” He asked weakly, exhaustion overcoming him.

“She is here, same as you, in a nearby room. She is resting as should you.” The Vereen reached for the bed stand and grabbed a small bottle. “Here, take some of this, it will help you sleep.”

“No way!” He pushed her hand aside. “After the last nightmare, I’d rather stay awake.”

She pushed the bottle forward again. “Please, Samil, you are very sick and must rest. Do it for me?” She deployed her beautiful smile, and her eyes grew larger as she stared deeply into his.

Tyler felt the effect melting away his resistance as his eyes grew dreamy with wondering about the curves beneath her robe. He felt a sensation between his legs and smiled as he imagined them together. Damn it, what power did this woman possess? He couldn’t resist and drank from the bottle.

She tucked him under the covers and wiped the sweat from his brow. “You must rest, Samil, if we are to be together again.” She smoothed the covers over him, her hand stopping on top of his lap. He felt a hardness grow at her touch, and she smiled as she felt the rise.

Sleep fogged his mind, and the vision of the Vereen changed into a vision of Toosia as he fell under the spell of her powerful narcotic. He didn’t know what he’d taken, but he liked its effects. He drifted to sleep and imagined making love with his long lost Toosia.

* * * *

The sound of a slamming door woke Tyler. The room was dark except for the glow of a dying candle across the room. Tyler pushed the covers off and swung onto the cold floor. The coldness was a welcome sensation after so much sleep.

He wondered how long it had been since the Vereen had given him that drug? He looked at the bedside table and noted there were no medicine bottles, only a small cup with what looked like water.

He drank heavily, thankful as it cleared his parched throat. He was becoming accustomed to waking after such long periods, but wondered what that said about him and his health. This time, he recalled everything, Joriss, carrying her, and the heart attack he had barely survived. Even the ghoulish nightmare of the saythers came back in painful relief, and he shuddered from the memory.

He was partially dressed but quickly located his clothing across a chair in the back of the room. The garments were clean and folded neatly. Obviously, one of the Vereen’s girls had taken care of them. He quickly dressed but sat down heavily as blackness threatened his senses.

It took a moment to recover, and he realized Samil’s body was far too old for the exertions he continued to place on it. What did he care? If Samil died, he could find someone new.

Hollowness growled deep within his belly, and he knew he needed to satisfy the hunger quickly. It felt like he’d woken from a round of perneem, except his head was clear and fresh. Apparently, the sleep had been necessary.

He opened the door in time to see one of the cavern’s women carrying a heavy tray of food and drink to a room two doors down. He quickly followed and prayed she was going where he hoped. He walked through the open door and spotted Joriss sitting up in bed, her face a swollen mess.

Although they had cleaned her up, it would take weeks for her face to fully recover. She looked at Tyler and smiled through cracked lips.

“Samil, thank Gamel you are alive!” She tried to move out of bed, and Tyler rushed to her side forcing her back.

“Please, Joriss, don’t get up. You need to rest.”

The woman who’d been carrying the tray admonished both of them. “The same could be said of you, Samil. Why are you out of your bed? You both need rest.”

Joriss raised a hand in protest. “It is all right, Pherem, we will not talk long. Can you please give us a moment?”

Pherem looked dubious, but pulled the table next to the bed before heading to the door. “Fine, just eat something while you talk.”

Once they were alone, Joriss grabbed Tyler’s hand, cuddling it to her face while tears fell from her cheeks. Tyler felt the blisters and cracks against the back of his hand despite the heavy salve they’d applied.

“Thank you for saving me, Samil, I am glad you didn’t die.” She let go of his hand and wiped her eyes with the blanket. “Are you hungry?”

He looked at the full tray of food and felt sick from the intense hunger. “Yes, I am famished.”

Both ate quietly for a while, although Tyler ate more than his fill. He didn’t know how long Joriss had been out, but he felt like he hadn’t eaten in weeks. He washed it down with a pint of their version of beer, and despite the heavy bitter taste, he welcomed the calming effects of the alcohol.

He set his cup down and looked into Joriss’s eyes. “What happened to you, Joriss? Where have you been?”

“On the Trial of Gesh.”

He couldn’t believe what she was saying. She had purposefully went on the trial? What was she thinking?

“What do you mean you have been on the Trial of Gesh? Why? It is only for men … men who are to become Pretals.”

“I know,” she looked down at her ruined hands, turning them over as if seeing them for the first time, “I didn’t want to survive it.”

Tyler fell silent from her admission. She didn’t want to live, and he knew that feeling all too well. Unfortunately, he couldn’t die. He drank from his cup, draining it before refilling from the pitcher. He drank more before setting it on the table.

“Why, Joriss?” He felt her suffering and thought back to Seram and his painful words. “Do not listen to Seram, he knows nothing about our suffering.”

“I know that, it wasn’t him who made me do this … it was … you.” She frowned and turned away from him, fresh tears flooding her face.

Tyler was caught off guard. Why was he to blame? What had he done? Samil had always been there for her, helped her, shared her pain, and loved her.

“What are you saying, I made you do this? How?”

She turned back towards him. “Not you, but your presence, and our …” she hesitated as if trying to find words that wouldn’t sting, “our relationship together.”

He sat back disbelieving her confession. Had she not enjoyed their time together? Why had she persisted in maintaining the relationship? He had never forced her. If anything, Samil had always been reluctant. Was it Tyler she did not like—the new Samil?

“I am sorry if our relationship was painful. I never forced myself upon you—I thought we enjoyed each other’s company.”

“Yes, we do—I mean.” She stopped, obviously uncertain how to explain her feelings. “Samil, I love you, you have given me more than anyone except the Vereen. I did enjoy our time together and still desire them. It is just that … well, it is just that every time we are together … you know, after the perneem … well, I see Mineran, and it is that which has kept me coming back time and again.”

Tyler thought she looked relieved to get it off her chest. How had she been able to remember her episodes? Samil had never remembered his forays into the sexual pleasures of perneem.

“How is it you remember so clearly?” He asked more than curious. Was there something special about her? Maybe women didn’t forget their experiences like the men?

She looked confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean … I mean I have never remembered the experiences until recently. I always woke with a memory of sexual satisfaction, but not of who I was with.”

“Oh, I see.” She stared at her hands. “I have always remembered, since my first time. My visions are different, but with you, they are always the same. I assumed you saw visions of your dead wife—but I guess not.”

He did now, and he assumed Samil had, too. Samil simply never remembered. Something must have remained of the experience. Why else had he continued to come back to Joriss?

“Recently, I, too, have had visions of my lost love.” He smiled, hoping to ease her pain. “I understand your feelings, Joriss, I feel it, too. But why try to kill yourself?”

“I don’t know. I just couldn’t stand the thought of not having Mineran in my life. The perneem only gave me an illusion of Mineran, not the real love we had. I was alone, and despite your friendship, I was empty inside. I needed something—I needed Mineran.” She started crying again, and wiped tears gently. “I have no family, Samil—I only have you and the Vereen. I love you both, but I miss my real family. I wanted to escape to join Mineran in Jurane.”

Tyler thought about reminding her that suicide would not gain her entrance to Jurane, but thought twice about it due to her fragile state of mind. He understood her loneliness, and he felt genuine guilt that he was unable to provide her what her soul needed.

“Why the trial? Why go that way?” Memories of Samil’s ordeal fed Tyler with the painful reliving of the desert agony.

“I don’t know—I suppose I thought it might help me see Mineran again … you know … since he died that way.” She wiped her eyes again. “I know it was foolish, but I am not happy I survived. In fact, I don’t know how I survived.”

“What do you mean? I brought you here.” He wondered how long she had been in the desert.

“Yes, I know that, but I walked for twenty days like the trial says, but I never turned around to return. I was far from here … and from you. How did I get back?”

She was obviously confused, and Tyler assumed she had walked back, but simply didn’t remember. “You just don’t remember—you must have turned back.”

“No!” She said it so loud it startled Tyler. “I did not walk back! After twenty days I simply sat on the desert floor, waiting for Gamel to take me. I had no faith in him and wanted only the death his trial could provide. But it never came. I remember saythers—hundreds of them tempting me with food and drink, urging me to turn around and return, but I refused. At first I couldn’t understand them—they spoke in some strange language. But after a time, their language became clear. It was strange, but I was determined to die in the desert.”

When she mentioned saythers, Tyler froze as he remembered his nightmare in the temple. What were these creatures? And what was their purpose?

“I don’t understand—you simply sat down and waited to die?” He couldn’t believe someone could actually do that.

“Yes … but the last thing I remember was inside the cave … seeing you in the distance. I thought you were a mirage. Then I woke up here.” She wasn’t happy, and Tyler feared for her life. Would she try something even more drastic?

“Surely you don’t really want to die, Joriss? Please tell me you want to live—I couldn’t stand seeing you die.”

She smiled and grabbed his hand. “No, Samil, I do not want to die. Perhaps I was returned from the desert to serve a purpose?”

He pulled his hand away. “Surely you don’t believe what Seram told you, do you?” He remembered the prophetic statement Seram told her about saving the world. Would she now become a crusader, evangelizing around the planet trying to save it from damnation?

“No … well, not really … no.” She was uncertain and Tyler grew concerned.

“Please, Joriss, don’t listen to his religious nonsense! He just returned from the trial himself. It does stuff to a person, makes you believe there is some powerful force guiding your every step, when in reality only you determine your path. Don’t choose that way, Joriss. It will only lead to disappointment. Trust me, I know!”

“I won’t do that, Samil, that is not what I meant. I feel I am meant for something else, something special. I believe I am meant to have children and raise my own family.”

Tyler was relieved and more than surprised. “But, I thought you couldn’t have children. I mean all those times, surely something should have happened, if you could?”

“Yes, something could have happened, if I had wanted it to. We … we have ways to prevent it.” She looked embarrassed by the admission.

Of course, the Vereen would surely provide some pharmacological substance to prevent pregnancy. He felt stupid for not considering it. He supposed with all the trouble women had with pregnancy, he assumed it affected them all. Why would anyone consider birth control when birth rates were steadily dropping?

A thought shocked him. “Are you …?” He didn’t want to finish the question, fearful of how she might answer.

“No, Samil, I am not. Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I want my children’s father to be someone … younger.” She looked sad for having to say it, but Tyler was relieved.

“Oh, no … no, you deserve someone younger and … better than me.” A part of him hoped she were only lying about wanting children, but another part of him wanted her to be happy. He would lose his faithful lover, but then she needed a family, while he was trying to flee one.

She grabbed his hand. “No one is better than you, Samil, no one.”

Into The Valley Of Death

Tyler stayed a couple more days at the cavern until his strength returned. When he finally showed up at the Temple, Seram remained silent about his time away. Tyler felt like telling him about the ordeal but knew Seram would react badly if he knew Tyler had been with Joriss. It would be better to keep his ordeal to himself.

They spent the last week preparing the village for their departure on the pilgrimage, and it was an exciting and nervous time as they would be without their spiritual leaders for so long a period. The journey would end with the arrival of their God, and even those whose faith held doubts, couldn’t help but be excited with the prospects of Gamel’s return. Seram was certain their suffering would soon end, and he reassured them on a daily basis.

Since no one from the village would have access to the Temple, they cleared all perishables out and cleaned the Zerum before packing what they needed. As prescribed in the sacred texts, Pretals could only bring the food they could carry, and one religious text to read along the route.

Tyler packed dried roots, grasses, and the hard cakes that were a mainstay of the people’s diet. He wrapped it all in a small cloth package that could easily be carried over his shoulder. On the other shoulder, he carried the text that Joriss had found long ago, the text about the dreams of a Grand Pretarch and a world long dead. Tyler couldn’t care less what text he brought; this one simply reminded him of Joriss.

In a hidden pocket inside his robe, he stashed an ample supply of perneem and other pharmacological potions the Vereen had recommended. No one was certain how long the journey would last, but everyone assumed they would be gone the better part of a year. It was too long for Tyler, especially without the pleasures of the cavern. He hoped he had plenty of perneem to satisfy his addiction, otherwise, the journey would be more like hell than a trip to salvation.

No one had taken this journey in over five thousand years, and although the texts were explicit as to how it should be done, Tyler held doubts. The planet’s entire religious community would embark on this long journey to a distant city most had never seen, and many believed no longer existed.

The church had a very rigid hierarchy with Pretals in the villages, Pretares overlooking regions, and finally the Pretarchs overseeing everything from Malane. The problem was no one had been to Malane for thousands of years, and Samil held no memory of a Pretarch ever leaving Malane during that same period.

Pretares were elected by the Pretals from within their own ranks, so the Pretarch’s role in the everyday life of the people was non-existent. Only occasional texts, like the one Tyler carried, were evidence the Holy City and its Pretarchs existed. But even those had not been seen for hundreds of years. Tyler wondered if Malane still existed.

Either way, they would find out. As the date drew nearer, Tyler thought about backing out. He didn’t really want to go regardless of the outcome, but the Vereen had convinced him by arguing how it would look if a holy man remained behind. Tyler imagined it wouldn’t look any different than a holy man partaking in unholy sexual pleasures while under the influence of narcotics, but her power to sway him won out.

He was baffled by this power but fell in line nonetheless. He was certain Seram would not have cared if he had remained behind, although how that would look to the other Pretals might have concerned him a little.

All the Pretals were to meet at the village of the regional Pretare. Once assembled, they would journey together into the mountains onto a path that was supposedly carved out of the dense forest for just this purpose. Tyler found it hard to imagine such a path still existed. Surely it was overgrown and impassable after so long without travelers.

It was said the path followed the mountain range around the planet before meeting up outside the lost city of Perneer and the trailhead to the city of Malane. Tyler imagined the travel past Perneer was intended to remind everyone of Gamel’s wrath. However, Tyler was interested in this lost city of decadence. The Vereen had said she’d been there, but she had never said why. He supposed her cult treated it like their holy Mecca, a symbol of past glories they tried to relive.

Regardless, he looked forward to seeing something so ancient, so large, and so desolate. It was the only part of the journey he was certain he would enjoy. A mountain walk through the forest was not his idea of fun, and the temptations of the abundant fruit they could not partake in only made it worse. The texts explicitly forbade taking the forbidden fruit on penalty of death. But they were unclear as to how you would die. Tyler envisioned saythers and was filled with trepidation.

The texts also assured them that those who stayed on the path would have safe passage, but those that strayed would be dealt with harshly. He thought about taking care of the basics, like relieving one’s self, but decided he’d wait until the Pretare gave instructions.

When they finally set out to their first stop in the village of Manseer, all the villagers were present to see them off. Most ignored Tyler who stood quietly behind Seram as they prayed for safe passage. Tyler met Sherim’s eyes only once, and she quickly looked away, pain obvious on her face. She knew he would not be returning, but she couldn’t bring herself to show the emotions this caused.

Tyler was relieved. He’d wanted to avoid a confrontation. Most would be happy if he didn’t return, and he knew Sherim would be doubly so. The pain he caused was too great for her to bear any longer, but his departure would be bittersweet.

The day before, Tyler visited the cavern one last time. He was upset Joriss had disappeared without telling anyone. Even the Vereen was worried by her absence. Nonetheless, it did not prevent Tyler from saying goodbye in a most inappropriate way.

Those sweet memories sustained him as he followed Seram along the ridgeline towards Manseer. He clung to the fading vision of Linda straddling him in ecstasy. It would be a long time before he would enjoy that again, if ever. The thought made him morose, but he was determined to see this through, if even alone.

They marched steadily for the better part of a day with only occasional breaks. Fortunately, Manseer was close to their village and they expected to arrive before nightfall. They would stay in Manseer a day or two to organize before setting off into the mountains. Tyler thought back to the cavern and wondered if something similar existed near the distant city. Unfortunately, if it did, its location would be somewhere high in the hills, inaccessible to anyone not familiar with the area.

Tyler was filled with regret, but he steeled himself for the realization that his debauchery would be put on hold. The addiction was strong, and he constantly wondered whether he would survive the journey. So far, Samil’s body held up against the stress, and considering the recent heart attack, he was surprised by its unusual stamina.

He looked at Seram as he suddenly stopped. Tyler watched the young man remove his packs and sit down on a nearby rock. He signaled Tyler who slowly caught up and sat down next to him. Their breaks were silent affairs, and Tyler was happy for the lack of conversation. He liked Seram, but the change in him made him too difficult to speak with. Everything was about Gamel and his return, and Tyler was bored with the topic.

They sat quietly staring at the desert below. Only sparse plant life broke the reddish brown landscape stretching south into the desert toward the distant ocean. Based on Samil’s memories, no one had ever tried to make it to those distant seas. The texts spoke about them, especially during the times when the seas had provided food for the bustling world. Cities sprang up all along the shoreline, and the bounty they provided was traded freely for the fresh fruits and grains of the mountain and plains.

There were ample references about these cities, but no one knew what had happened to them after Gamel turned the plains into a desert. Had those fishing villages been destroyed like Perneer? Did the people flee the encroaching desert and return to the villages dotting the base of the mountains? No record of their fate was written, and Tyler wondered if they still existed independent from the rest of the planet.

He could imagine an entire civilization living along the seas, happy, carefree and free from the constant struggle to survive. The only thing separating them from the rest of the world was a vast desert too hot and too dry to cross. It was speculated that it would take a man on foot about a year to cross the desert to the oceans. With the ban on all things technological, building a vehicle to shorten that distance was unlikely. Whatever was out there, it would remain separated from the people for a long time.

Tyler watched Seram stare into the distance, unfocused. He could imagine the young man thought about Gamel and his pending return. As if sensing his thoughts, Seram turned to Tyler.

“I know what you did for Joriss.” He admitted slowly.

It was flat and emotionless, and Tyler wondered if he meant saving her life.

“What do you mean?” He asked curious.

“I heard about her … trial … and you saving her life. Thank you.”

Why was he thanking him, most would have done the same thing under the same circumstances. What was a prostitute to someone as holy as Seram? The way he had treated her by bringing up painful memories still stung Tyler.

“Who told you?” He asked accusingly.

“I have my sources—some may even surprise you.”

Tyler hated the secrecy but didn’t really care who Seram’s sources were. “Whatever—it was nothing.” He wanted to leave it at that, but something inside burned to get out. He turned to Seram and confronted him.

“Why do you care what happens to her, Seram? Isn’t she just a lowly whore whose pain and addiction you’ll never understand or forgive? Her village Pretal didn’t care about her when they forced her to leave her life after losing the one thing she loved!”

“I … care.” Seram put no emotion in the words.

Tyler countered. “I see. When she is just a whore and Gamel has no interest in her, then you don’t care. But now, after your wonderful journey into the desert she has become something important … something your god wants.” He stared into Seram’s eyes, anger pouring forth. How dare Seram judge her and then suddenly care about her welfare. “You are a hypocrite, Seram.”

Seram turned back to the desert vista and didn’t respond to the accusations. Picking up his packs, he slung them over his shoulder to leave.

“We should keep moving—night is coming.”

Tyler shook his head in disgust. At least they weren’t going to say a prayer before starting. He picked up his own packs and slowly followed Seram. It would be a long journey, and Tyler couldn’t wait to join the other Pretals so he didn’t have to spend these moments with Seram. He was ready to leave everything about Samil’s life behind, including his apprentice.

* * * *

They made Manseer before nightfall, and Tyler was tired from the exertions. Fortunately, Samil’s constant ventures to the cavern had kept him in reasonable physical condition, but his failing heart made every step that much harder to take.

They first met with the Pretare and were assured they would leave in a few days after waiting for the arrival of the remaining Pretals. Tyler was happy for the rest, but bored with the circumstance. Everything about Manseer was identical to Samil’s village of Kidium. The temple was the same, the village was the same, and the people were the same. The forest path they’d travel also sounded boring, but at least it would be in contrast to the sameness of the desert floor.

After eating and resting, Tyler quietly slipped out of the temple into the night. He walked far from the Temple and found a large boulder where he could sit and relax. He wasn’t in the mood to spend the night discussing religion with the rest of the Pretals and was more interested in getting high to forget everything about this place.

He prepared the perneem, using sparing quantities to save it for the journey. The effects were immediate and he desperately yearned for the Vereen or Joriss to join him. This was would be the painful part of his addiction, getting high alone, denying the release of sexual pleasures. Despite being alone, his body responded to the drug, readying itself for the pleasure that would never come.

He leaned against the rock and tried to push the erotic thoughts from his mind. He thought about their journey and the trip through the forest. Would they see saythers? He hoped not, but felt certain they would come. He thought about the distant city of Perneer and wondered if anyone took up residence in that dead city. It was forbidden, but Tyler thought that was a trivial threat on a world without police, armies, or enforcement of any kind. The fear of god was the enforcement here, and Tyler laughed at the implications.

On Earth, you would rarely get domestication from only the threat of a god. Humans were too adventurous, self-serving, and violent to keep peace from an imaginary threat. He knew there were pockets of people whose beliefs were strong enough to control their lives, but overall, the human race dictated its own rules and its own future. They couldn’t even agree on what god to believe in.

Tyler stared into the dark desert at the myriad stars filling the moonless sky. Visions of Toosia overlaid the calm scene and Tyler’s body once again yearned for her presence. Damn it! The thought held little force as he fought against the insidious drug that controlled his life.

He thought about the nearby village and wondered if anyone would accommodate him. The thought sounded as ridiculous as he knew it was. Who in their right mind would take in an old Pretal for sexual pleasures? Only someone who was similarly addicted, but they would never do it in their own village. The community was too closely bound and word would spread too quickly.

He surveyed the ridgeline that circled their world. He pondered where the local den of inequity might be located. He thought about wandering the hills looking for it, but realized that was both dangerous and stupid. The odds of finding it were quite low, and the search alone could take days.

He turned back to the desert and settled in to his high, unable to satisfy what his body craved, but content to dream about it. He lay against the rock and closed his eyes. Toosia waited for him in the darkness, and he let her lead him off to a sensual experience. Real or not, it was better than the alternative.

* * * *

Tyler woke stiff on the hillside as the light of the rising sun crept over the eastern horizon. He’d spent the night against the boulder and was stiff from the cold, uncomfortable position. Memories of Toosia faded against the light of day, and Tyler’s head pounded slightly with a hangover.

He dreaded their journey, but decided the occasional forays into the night would be sufficient to sustain him. It would be hard to slip away once they were in the mountains, but he would find a way to pursue his pleasures.

He stretched the ache from his bones and headed toward the temple. He knew many would wonder where he’d been, but he could simply play the doddering fool and let them imagine anything they wanted. There were some advantages to old age, being eccentric was one of them. Seram would know the truth, though he wouldn’t reveal Tyler’s secret to the rest of the Pretals. It was an embarrassment Seram was content to keep hidden.

He found the entrance to the temple open and entered the darkness to the sounds of praying inside the main chapel. All the Pretals were being led in prayer by the Pretare. His name was Minish, and Samil’s memories of him were positive. He was a pious man indeed, and fit the position of Pretare better than any other Pretal. That was why he had been elected to the position by his peers.

Tyler didn’t feel like praying and quietly crept around the edge of the chapel towards the Zerum. Unfortunately Minish saw him enter and called out to him.

“Samil, come join us in prayer before we eat.”

Tyler hesitated but decided it was too early to offend. “Well, yes, I suppose I will.” He moved into the chapel and found a seat to kneel in prayer. He caught a glimpse of Seram on the other side of the room and noted a look of disappointment, or perhaps it was disgust.

His knees hurt from the hard floor and his back ached from sleeping against the rock, but Tyler dutifully ran through the prayers with everyone else. It took half an hour to finish, and Tyler found it difficult to stand up after kneeling so long. At least now they would eat.

It wouldn’t be a grand meal, but more than they would enjoy on the long journey ahead. Tyler was ready to eat his fill that he was certain the village would provide for the traveling holy men. He was not disappointed and was pleasantly surprised at the large mug of ale they also provided. It was not a common thing for people to drink alcoholic beverages, even less so for the religious. Nonetheless, it was provided and Tyler made generous use of it despite raised eyebrows.

As Tyler poured his third mug of the bitters, a Pretal across from him made a comment.

“I see you are thirsty today, Samil. Was your journey last night so hard?” The man smiled as though knowingly, and everyone around the table stared at the interesting turn of events.

Tyler ran through Samil’s memories of the young Pretal who was only two years into his service and was outspoken about abstinence of all kinds. He was looking for a platform to preach against the alcohol and feast before them, but Tyler wasn’t certain he wanted to provide it.

“When you are my age, young man, all journeys are hard.” Tyler stared coldly at the brash upstart.

The young man was apparently not prepared for such a hostile reply and sat dumbfounded before the Pretare took over the awkward silence.

Minish smiled broadly to lighten the mood. “Indeed, it is the young who are better suited to this undertaking, but we all must sacrifice if we are to see our God return. Isn’t that right, Samil?”

Tyler removed his glare from the young Pretal and glanced down at Minish with a smile. “Yes, we all must make sacrifices to see our god return, Minish … some more than others. I, for one, am not ready to take such a long journey in this failing body without ample sustenance. Forgive me if I seem to take more than my share.”

“No need for forgiveness, Samil, it is provided for that very purpose. Please eat and drink as much as you like.” Minish looked satisfied he’d diffused the situation despite the grim look on the young Pretal’s face as he left the table. Tyler knew how difficult it was for young men to be admonished in a group of their peers. He was glad this planet was so peaceful.

Seram shot Tyler a look, but Tyler ignored it and sat back drinking more ale.

“Tell me, Minish, have you or anyone else for that matter actually found the path we will take on our journey?” Tyler wanted to see what this man knew about their trip. Did he have inside knowledge or was he just as blind as the rest of them?

Minish didn’t flinch from the question, but took a moment to answer. “Well, I myself have never seen the path, but I trust it is there as the texts describe.”

“I see, and you have communicated with Malane recently? They are preparing for our arrival as spelled out in our holy texts?” Tyler knew he was treading a thin line, but he was curious how much of this was on faith.

Minish seemed uncomfortable with the questions but refused to back down in front of the Pretals. “No, I have received no communications from Malane, but they are surely preparing for our arrival.” He said it with authority, but Tyler guessed he, too, wondered at the outcome of this pilgrimage.

Another Pretal jumped into the conversation to save the Pretare from defending his faith. “Why do you ask these questions, Samil? Have you no faith Gamel will clear our path and prepare for his faithful to return?”

Obviously, Tyler had struck a sore note. “No, no, I have faith, I am just uncertain how much he has cleared. What if we reach the mountain forests and find no path to lead us? What do we do then? Enter the forest and search for it? That would be a dangerous thing indeed—faith or no faith.”

Minish took charge once more. “I am certain we will find the path, Samil, have no fear. Our God will not abandon us on the eve of his return. Hold to your faith, and we will all be led into the Holy City of Malane to meet Gamel.”

Tyler could here the finality in his words and let the conversation drop. Most around the table sided with Minish’s faith, but Tyler thought he saw doubt in several of the younger men’s faces. They, too, had thought of these things, and even surviving the Trial of Gesh could not remove the fear they felt. Many who entered the forest never returned, so Tyler hoped the path would be there.

* * * *

The following day, the remaining Pretals arrived in Manseer to begin the journey. They were given a day to rest and several good meals to prepare them for the arduous trip. In all, there were Pretals from twenty villages, and since many were recently promoted to Pretal, the total count was thirty-three including the Pretare. It was a large group, and Tyler could imagine thousands of such groups embarking on this long awaited journey to their Holy City.

Tyler was comfortable with their numbers, but he was worried about the difficulty feeding his addiction with so many prying eyes around him. He would find a way, somehow.

After their final day of rest, the group gathered at the front of the temple for one last prayer with the villagers. At that time, the Pretare gave each of the Pretals a small flask of water hung on a chain. It didn’t take a genius to figure out it was much too small to support them through the long trip, but Minish assured them the ancient texts promised the flasks would never run dry as long as they stayed on the path and kept their faith.

The faith part concerned Tyler, because he had no faith in this or any other god. He silently wondered if Gamel was listening to their thoughts. It disturbed him to imagine the god discovering his false identity. He’d have no defense and would certainly be killed outright. If that was the worst that could happen, Tyler believed he could handle the ordeal. That assumed his flask didn’t run dry long before they reached Malane.

After prayers, Minish instructed them on the rules they must follow while on the path. They must never eat any fruit along the path, but only that which they carried with them. They must never sample water from the mountains, but drink only what was provided by their flasks. They must stay on the path at all times except to relieve themselves, and at those times, they must not venture far into the forest or face possible death.

Every warning was ominous, and Tyler wondered how much of it were true. Was there really a path or was it simply an illusion created by the ancient manuscripts? Although Tyler had his doubts about any religious mumbo-jumbo, he decided it was prudent to follow the rules anyway. He knew enough about the Universe to realize there was more than meets the eye. If Gamel were real, then everything in the texts could be true. He knew the saythers were real enough.

It was estimated they would reach the path in several days of hard travel through the mountains. Tyler had no idea how far they would ascend, but he assumed several thousand feet across multiple passes. They had no protection other than the clothes on their backs, and Tyler hoped the weather wasn’t similar to the mountains on Earth. Back home, the weather often moved in unexpectedly, temperatures dropping precipitously.

He had asked Minish about bringing a blanket to protect against the cold nights, but Minish assured him there was no need for such comforts since Gamel would watch over them. Tyler didn’t share the same confidence as Minish and feared Samil’s old body would freeze underneath the thin cloak.

Perhaps that was part of the journey. Like the Trial of Gesh, it was meant to test the faithful and weed out those not fit to meet their god. Tyler believed he had at least one advantage over the others—the strength of his Onyalum spirit.

As he ran through the various ways he could die on this venture, he blindly followed the person ahead of him up a steep slope through a boulder strewn field similar to the one in Kidium. It was the first of many large mountains they would cross before reaching the path, and all the Pretals followed their Pretare in single file up the slope. Thankfully, the ground was dry or they would have had great difficulty maintaining footing. Despite this, Tyler heard an occasional slip ahead and behind.

Samil was adept at this type of terrain, and Tyler found the going relatively easy. He knew it would not stay that way and didn’t look forward to the more difficult stuff ahead. What if they encountered rain or snow? None of these people had seen snow and most had only seen the occasional rain that came to the desert far too infrequent. How would they handle a slick white substance making their ascent virtually impossible?

Tyler decided he needed to stop dwelling on the unpredictable and turn his thoughts to something more pleasant. He pushed the morbid concerns aside and pictured the Vereen straddling him in ecstasy. Though the thought cheered him slightly, the frustration that he would never see her again was more difficult than the journey.

Damn this planet! He thought angrily as he crested the top of a ridge and sat down to rest while the others behind him completed the climb. His back hurt and his legs ached, but overall he felt reasonably decent.

He scanned the surrounding hills and realized there was a steady change in the ecosystem as they climbed higher. Instead of the dry, nearly barren landscape of thorny plants, this mountainside contained small patches of what Tyler assumed were some type of grasses. He wondered if taking anything from this area would result in death or was that only when they reached the path. This certainly wasn’t the forest, so he assumed he could try anything he found.

While the remaining Pretals completed the climb, Tyler walked along the ridgeline to explore some of the new plant life growing around them. He found a small patch of a grass-like plant with tiny blooms and wondered if it was edible. He wished the Vereen were here to help him avoid the poisonous plants. More than once she had alluded to the abundant and deadly plant life that existed higher in the hills. Much of it was used in her products.

Even Samil’s daughter, Sherim, had been well versed in these plants. She had warned others in the village to never attempt collecting plants that they didn’t know about. It was probably a good warning, but it put the onus of knowledge in the hands of a single person and never solved the problem of what to do if that person became ill, injured, or killed. Like the Pretals, the healers would pass their information onto an apprentice, but the role was strictly forbidden for men and they had only very young girls to select from—too young to train.

Tyler took a chance and broke off a small piece of the grass. It smelled earthy, something he missed in the arid environment of the desert. It was still dry up here, but clearly received more moisture if only from the nighttime dew. He put the piece in his mouth and chewed. The taste was initially bitter and Tyler nearly spat it out, but it changed just as suddenly into a mild licorice flavor he enjoyed after the bland food this planet offered.

He put the rest of the blade in his mouth and chewed vigorously like a child with candy. It felt like candy—a treat after his exile in the desert. With the wonderful flavor came a feeling of contentment and vigor. Tyler likened the effect to certain uppers he’d dabbled with on Earth. He approved and quickly stowed as much as he could find into his food pack.

The rules clearly stated you could eat whatever you could carry, and Tyler figured he could carry of lot of the lightweight grass. He rejoined the group after they were rested and ready to begin the next climb.

Tyler surveyed their next stretch and decided the enhancing effects of the grass would be a good thing. They would descend the backside of the ridge before traversing another mountain slope. He had no idea how many of these up and down traversals they had, but the slopes were increasingly steeper the further into the mountains they traveled. He would have to pay attention to footing from here on out. One slip on some of these slopes and you could easily slide or fall to the bottom.

Tyler placed another blade in his mouth and fell in line as they began the descent.

* * * *

The first day was relatively easy as they traversed several mountain ridges. The second day was even easier as they traveled through alpine meadows of grass and flowers. Tyler discovered the grass he collected earlier grew everywhere in the meadows and he gathered it often to give him the strength to continue.

Unfortunately, the end of the second day ended the easy ascent. They just completed cresting another soft mountain meadow and stood beneath a towering cliff of craggy rock shrouded in dense clouds. The gray clouds hugged the dark rock in a wet embrace while obscuring the tops of the towering mountains. All were stunned by the daunting climb that loomed overhead.

This was not a hike but a real climb up a nearly sheer face of rock. They had no ropes, no climbing gear, nothing to aid their ascent or their safety. Tyler heard several gulps as some of the young Pretals realized their journey was about to change for the worse. Tyler knew this would try their faith if nothing else did.

As far as he could see, both east and west, the cliff stood guard against the distant forests hidden beyond the cloud tops. Up till now, the weather was mild, but at this altitude, the temperature dropped noticeably, especially at night. What would it be like high on the cliff when they entered those clouds? Damp, cold, and slick. The Pretals probably didn’t realize it, but Tyler knew from experience.

He had a couple of clients who had once gone on a day hike near Yosemite. They’d gotten half way up when a storm materialized. Out of their group of six, two were struck by lightning but survived, three suffered mild hypothermia, and one died when he lost his footing and slid down a steep slope off a cliff.

Tyler remembered the newscasts after that incident. Search and rescue had helped many stranded, injured, and lost climbers that day. At the time, Tyler had been glad he’d never pursued such dangerous hobbies. He smiled inwardly as they moved toward the base of the imposing cliff.

Minish instructed them to rest while they spent the night at the base before making an ascent the following morning. Tyler didn’t think Minish appeared confident about the climb, but he reassured the men that after this final ascent, they would find the path to their God. Tyler imagined many might find their path to their god was a steep fall from a scary height.

With the cloud cover, Tyler couldn’t estimate how high they would have to climb. Just to reach the bottom of the clouds was at least a couple thousand feet. The people of Gamel were small and their stubby limbs made them excellent climbers, but this looked nearly impossible for anyone but the youngest. Tyler saw concern on several of the older men’s faces, clearly this was more than they had bargained for.

Still, to meet one’s God who you served all your life was a strong motivator. He knew they would attempt the climb, but wondered how many would survive. With no experience, Tyler wasn’t certain he would. One slip and you were dead.

Tyler forced the challenge from his mind and noticed that for the first time since becoming Samil, he saw real trees lining the base of the cliff. They weren’t particularly tall, but to see them was amazing after life on the barren desert. The trees looked like pine, and Tyler watched as several flying creatures and furry climbers moved through the tops. It was unusual to see wildlife on a planet that appeared so lifeless near the villages.

It made Tyler imagine what it would be like as they passed through the clouds into the forest beyond. Although Tyler never hiked or camped, several times he’d been talked into traveling out of Los Angeles into the mountains. He’d been to the Redwood National Forest and still found it amazing something so big and so old could live on Earth. It was an incredible spectacle to see the immensity of those old giants that had withstood fires, earthquakes, and humans.

Would the forest above have trees as large? The texts spoke of fruit and abundant plant life, but what about animals? Other than saythers, what else dwelled inside that pristine forest? Were there other intelligent creatures? Tyler looked forward to the expedition despite the hellish climb that separated them from the distant paradise.

He placed his packs underneath one of the trees and walked off to relieve himself and partake in supplies. Many gave him an unusual look as he neared the trees. He supposed they’d never seen one before and were naturally leery. But after seeing Tyler’s apparent bravado, many began to explore these new forms of plant life, feeling the texture of the bark and picking up the cones that littered the ground.

Tyler left them behind to explore far from the other Pretals. It was only two days into their journey, and he was already tiring of their company. If it was to take months to reach Malane, Tyler would have to start using products more regularly to withstand the boredom. He couldn’t understand why people thought climbing mountains or hiking in forests was so appealing. Clearly there were impressive views, but what did you do when that got old?

Relieved and comfortable, Tyler found a nice patch of grass underneath a dense stand of trees. He pulled out his paraphernalia and loaded the pipe with the powerful substances. If he had to be sober for the climb tomorrow, he would be high the night before. He leaned against a tree and inhaled the acrid smoke, his mind drifting to the far off cavern he’d never see again.

* * * *

Smoke burned Tyler’s eyes as he blinked into the darkness. The smell of burning meat or flesh was overwhelming and Tyler grew ill from the stench. He held his hands out as he moved through the darkness attempting to find his way out of the hellish environment. He knew it was another nightmare haunting his sleep, but the knowledge did not make the situation easier to cope with.

He’d fallen asleep and dreamed of this awful place reeking with burnt death. A distant glow lit his path, and he quickly recognized a corridor made from the stone used in the village temples. His mind replayed that awful nightmare in the large temple of saythers, and a deep chill spread through his body. Was this the same place? What ghoulish scene would he have to endure this time?

The glow came from a doorway that opened into a larger area Tyler immediately recognized as the large temple from his nightmare. The glow came from the raised platform and a fire spewing the sickening smells that choked his throat and burned his eyes. It was difficult to tell what was burning from his position, but the foul scent told him it wasn’t wood.

Realizing he had to play the dream out, he moved toward the fire while searching for the saythers he knew were there. His side of the fire was empty, but he understood it was only a matter of time before the nightmare really began. The fire roared high into the dark air, hissing and popping from the mysterious fuel that fed its flames.

As Tyler neared, the intense heat generated nearly overwhelmed him. Though it felt like an oven, he moved closer to see what fueled the flames to their dizzying heights. He drew near and could just make out individual pieces that burned white hot. As he feared, various body parts fed the immense blaze, and he quickly turned to vomit on the cold floor.

Why did he have to see this? He moved farther from the flames, covering his mouth to filter the horrible smoke. As he slipped back into the dark edge of the room, he heard a chant from somewhere on the other side of the flames. It was too distant to understand the words, but Tyler was drawn to its rhythmic sounds.

He inched around the outer edge until he spotted movement. A young woman stood with her back to the fire, chanting in the ancient language. Samil understood some of the ancient words, but Tyler couldn’t hear all of them over the roar of the fire.

As the woman chanted, dark saythers threw dead bodies onto the flames. In the light of the gruesome fire, the saythers appeared evil, and Tyler kept his back against the outer wall to hide his presence. He continued inching along the wall to see the face of the chanting woman.

As the flames grew higher, her volume and tempo increased. She cried into the darkness as if the end of the world was near and only she could stop it with her voice. Finally in position, he rubbed his eyes to erase the visage screaming in the ancient language. Joriss stood with arms outstretched wearing a blank look as she urged the saythers to continue feeding the flames with the dead bodies.

Neither she nor the saythers saw him as he quietly watched the horrid event. Why was Joriss with the saythers? Was this another nightmare or was he seeing a vision? Some said people saw visions of the future while using perneem, but Tyler assumed that was only imagination. Still, the nightmares persisted, and he was haunted by the realization they may yet come to pass.

Joriss stopped suddenly, turning to stare directly at Tyler. He froze as her dark eyes pierced him, devoid of compassion or recognition. She pointed at Tyler while speaking to the saythers in the ancient language.

Two saythers broke away and moved in Tyler’s direction. Crap, he could never outrun the beasts. Still, it was only a nightmare, and he would wake once again though his psyche might not come through unmarred. He willed himself awake, but the oncoming saythers pre-occupied his every thought. He backed away from the pending claws of death, his chest burning as they neared. He fell to his knees covering his head as if to ward off the dreadful demons.

“Joriss! It’s me, Samil … call them off!” He pleaded as they were on him. In response, she resumed her chant, this time her words clearly signaling them to place Tyler in the flames.

They grasped his arms and legs dragging him toward the fire. Tyler became desperate. “Hey, no … no, I’d rather get torn to shreds … no fire please!”

He felt the intense heat as they neared the edge of the towering pyre. The saythers smiled with toothy grins as they lifted him off the ground like a sack of potatoes.

“Joriss, no … don’t do this … it’s me, Samil!”

He screamed as they launched him into the flames, his cloak catching fire instantly from the intense heat. He was quickly engulfed by the white hot flames and felt his flesh peel and crisp with an intensity he’d never experienced. The blackened skin curled back from his muscles as his eyes boiled in the furnace of dead flesh. He tried to wake up, but the pain would not abate.

He pulled his body feebly across the bones of the others trying to find the outer edge of the inferno, but his useless legs trapped him as they tangled with the fleshless corpses. The searing pain tore through his soul while he waited for the eventual release from his nightmare. He opened his mouth to scream, but only white hot agony poured forth from his consumed body.

* * * *

Tyler’s screams woke him as he rolled onto his back shaking with sweat. Damn these nightmares! He was beginning to find the sleep world as desolate and horrible as his waking one. What escape was perneem really providing?

He watched the night sky as millions of twinkling stars laughed at his predicament. He could always return to the life of an Onyalum, wandering aimlessly without purpose or body. Would it be better to suffer silently alone, or continue to endure the hellish nightmares? Nobody answered his troubling question.

Though the dream disturbed him, he tried to find meaning. Why was Joriss the one that had condemned him to the fiery hell? Why did she speak the language of the ancients and communicate with those awful saythers? Was it real or was it some amalgamation of his life on Gamel? Or was it only an evil side effect of the powerful narcotic? He knew heroin addicts were often plagued by horrible nightmares, but they were usually relieved after taking their drug. His kept getting worse.

He prayed he hadn’t missed the ascent to the holy path, but was certain it was still the same day. He trudged back to the rest of the Pretals who’d become used to his periodic absences. He knew many disapproved, but none were bold enough to confront him.

He entered the clearing where most of the Pretals lay, rolled in their cloaks asleep. He found the tree with his pack and drank some water from his flask. Amazingly, it hadn’t run dry, and Tyler was beginning to think there was more to the mumbo-jumbo than he’d first imagined.

Tyler made a makeshift pillow with his ancient text and food pack, laying down wrapped in his cloak. He didn’t think sleep would come after his nightmare, but the nighttime cold was more than he was prepared to experience awake.

A voice whispered through the darkness and Tyler sat up. One of the young Pretals had apparently seen him return.

“Samil, where have you been? Did you find another way up the cliff? A way that is safe?”

Tyler couldn’t remember the young man’s name, but understood his fear. Why did he think Samil would look for another route? To date, Tyler had clearly acted with only his own interests in mind. This young man was naive.

“No, I didn’t find another route up.”

“Oh.” The young man sounded disappointed. “Do you think we will make it to the top?” His question was tentative, and he was clearly concerned about showing doubt in his faith.

Tyler wanted him to shut up, but felt compelled to help quell the man’s fears. “Our faith has brought us this far, it will carry us the rest of the way. Sleep—you will need your rest.”

The man fell silent at Tyler’s words, but Tyler suspected he would not sleep. It was a daunting task they faced, and even Tyler had doubts all would survive—faith or no faith.

* * * *

Minish roused everyone early, and Tyler was surprised he’d fallen back asleep. Thankfully, the nightmares had receded, and he felt surprisingly fresh.

They were to prepare for the ascent based on a non-stop trek up a sheer face with no breaks until they reached the top. Minish made sure everyone understood that once they started, it would be virtually impossible to stop to rest. It would be a difficult ordeal, and Tyler was certain no one in their group had ever attempted such a feat.

They gathered in a large group to discuss their preparations as Minish confirmed he’d scouted a crevice that stretched high into the clouds. He believed they could fit inside the crack and climb safely within its confines.

“As I have already told you, I believe this crevice will be our best route to reach the top. It is large enough to accommodate our size, and with protection on two sides, we should be safer when we reach the clouds.”

Minish sounded confident, but Tyler could detect a note of concern, especially when he looked at the elder members of the group. Tyler was one of those elder members, but he felt surprisingly up to the task. Not fearing death had upsides.

One of the younger members voiced concerns about packs. “What are we to do with our sacred texts and food packs? Won’t they get in our way around our neck and shoulders?”

Minish looked confused. “Well … yes, I suppose they might get in our way. Perhaps we should tuck them inside our cloaks so they don’t swing or accidentally drop.”

Tyler realized they were lost. He was no expert, but it was clear their cloaks would be just as cumbersome as the packs. He quickly offered advice.

“Pretare, if I might make a suggestion?”

Minish was relieved someone was going to come to his aid. “Yes, Pretal Samil, please share your wisdom with us.”

Tyler looked at the scared faces around him and decided he better take charge. At least he had the experience of the Admiral at his beck and call; it was more than the clergy around him could offer.

“I believe we will find it difficult to maneuver with our cloaks on, especially while our packs are underneath. We should remove our cloaks and use them to bind our packs to our back.”

A younger Pretal countered in disbelief. “But we will freeze when we reach the clouds! I am already cold, and we haven’t even started!”

Tyler saw heads move in agreement as they pulled their cloaks tighter.

“I understand your concern, but it is far more dangerous with them than without. The climb is very long and will tax every fiber of our bodies. I promise you, unless you stop, you will not be cold.”

Minish looked convinced and jumped to Tyler’s aid. “Very good, Samil, I agree with your assessment, we must all bind our gear with our cloaks.”

Most would listen to the Pretare, but Tyler saw many who were unconvinced. One such man spoke up irreverently. It was the same one Tyler had put down at the dinner before leaving Manseer. Apparently, he was still angry from that exchange.

“And what makes you an expert, Samil?” He asked with malice in his voice. “Have you been cliff climbing every time you disappear?”

It was too early to argue with someone so young, so Tyler ignored the bait. “I am simply stating common sense.”

The faces around them looked nervous at the turn in events. Even Minish was confused by the volatile atmosphere. But he wasn’t going to let the division ruin their journey. “Please, Juril, let’s not argue about it. Samil is kind enough to share his insights. You may either take his advice or not. I can’t make you do it.”

Juril wasn’t appeased. “Then I won’t! The rest of you are more than welcome to freeze on the climb!”

Tyler thought Juril was crazy, but sometimes the young would only learn through mistakes. Tyler thought this experience might be his last lesson. He made a mental note to make sure Juril was behind him. Without ropes, if a person fell, everyone behind him was at risk.

Minish looked undaunted and relieved the tension was averted. “Very well, Juril. Any of you may prepare as you see fit.” He paused as if to think about what else they needed to do. “Ah, yes, well, we must prepare by eating well, and drinking fluids. We will not likely have an opportunity to do that once we start climbing. Also, make sure you empty yourselves beforehand. I, for one, don’t relish the idea of needing to go when I am thousands of feet above the ground. Let’s meet at the crevice in a short while after we have prepared.”

He signaled to the east, and Tyler spotted the crevice they would take. It was a fairly defined fracture in the cliff that snaked its way high into the clouds.

“For those who wish to bind their gear to their backs, please see Samil or myself when you are ready.” Minish shook his head in confirmation, and Tyler responded in kind. He didn’t relish teaching them how to do it, but then he didn’t want the men to die. It was a small contribution he could make to the journey—he hoped it would be his last.

* * * *

An hour later, everyone gathered at the base of the crevice snaking into the cloud tops. Up close, it was clearly the ideal path to take, and Tyler thought parts of it looked more like a ladder than sheer rock face. He felt confident they could actually complete this leg of the journey despite the rigorous ascent. Some of the men who’d been scared earlier looked more at ease when confronted with the actual task.

Tyler had eaten his fill and drank down a handful of the licorice grass with water from his never ending flask. After a long break behind some trees, he felt ready to begin. He was still a bit jittery from the grass’s effects, but he knew he would need the powerful substance if he was to have enough strength to complete the climb.

His Onyalum spirit was ready and able, but Samil’s body wasn’t. He thought about another heart attack but decided there was nothing he could do about it. If it happened, c’est la vie.

When everyone finally gathered, Tyler took fifteen minutes to describe the best way to bind their gear. He had them spread out their cloaks on the ground and place their packs and texts at the bottom of the cloak in a straight line. Grabbing the bottom of the cloak, they rolled the entire contents up to the arm pit of the sleeves. It was simple, yet effective.

By pulling one sleeve underneath one arm and one over the other shoulder, you could tie the entire bundle to your back in a relatively comfortable way. At least nothing would be loose or interfere with the climb. Losing either your food or your flask would be a death sentence.

Tyler noted Juril and several others he’d recruited ignored the bindings and simply moved their gear beneath their cloaks. They would be warm, but their movements would be hampered by their cloaks. He hoped they were lucky enough to make it. Once started, they couldn’t change their minds.

Everyone seemed content with their bindings so Minish lined them up for the climb. Tyler fell in the middle and was relieved to see Juril and his followers at the back of the line. They’d complained, but Minish admonished them that their cloaks obscured the handholds for others behind them. They were unhappy but not prepared to go against their Pretare. They moved to the back of the line grimly, and Tyler gave them a tiny smile as they passed.

With Minish leading the way, they started the climb one by one. Tyler began his ascent and found the crevice filled with adequate foot and handholds. It was like climbing a ladder and they made good time to the base of the clouds.

It was impossible to see through the dense fog, and Tyler didn’t relish the final leg of the climb. It would be blind, cold, and wet, and no one knew how high they still had to go. He watched as Minish disappeared into the thick white ceiling, and braced himself for the experience.

So far, the exertions kept Tyler sufficiently warm. The crevice protected them from much of the wind, but Tyler knew the damp clouds would soak them quickly. It was one more reason not to wear their cloaks. When wet, the cloak would become extremely heavy and dangerous. At least bound to their back, they would remain mostly dry, so the extra weight would be minimal.

So far no one had difficulties, but Tyler heard more than a few slips, and each time, the person quickly recovered before disaster took them to their god earlier than planned. Despite the easy holds, Tyler felt the stress taking its toll on his fingers and joints. Samil was not young, and his body protested against the unusual exertions placed upon it. He ignored the pain as best he could while eating more grass to steady his nerves and give him energy.

He watched the person enter the cold clouds ahead of him and tensed in anticipation of the temperature drop. As expected, the cold, thick mist obscured everything except the person directly ahead and behind. Even sounds became muted, and Tyler was uncertain if anyone would have heard Minish if he had called out.

The moisture clung thickly to his skin and soaked him thoroughly. It felt as if they’d been climbing for hours, and he was tiring as he steadily lost strength. Even the extra grass didn’t ease the difficulties of the climb. The person ahead began slowing, and Tyler welcomed the new pace despite the increasing cold.

After a while, his movements became routine, and he climbed on auto-pilot while his thoughts wandered to perneem and the pleasures it provided. He thought about Joriss and yearned to have her near him, warming his body against the bitter cold of the clouds. Though it was only fantasy, the diversion made the time go faster.

At one point, Tyler thought he’d heard something far below. It had sounded like a rock slide, and although he couldn’t be sure, he may have heard a scream. But the clouds were eerily quiet, and he couldn’t be certain if the sounds had been real or just his imagination running wild. He ignored the incident and continued moving higher up the cliff.

They finally came to a particularly dense patch in the clouds, and Tyler noticed the person ahead suddenly disappear. Were they at the top? What happened? He quickened his pace and was rewarded by a set of hands reaching out to help him up. Darkness was descending, and the fog was so thick he couldn’t make out the faces offering hands. He grabbed them nonetheless and pulled himself out of the crevice onto a rock ledge.

It didn’t feel like they had reached the top. Could this be the road? A voice called from the fog and the hands urged him towards the edge of the cliff. Tyler walked tentatively towards the voice until a dark opening materialized. He entered the welcoming shelter and was quickly ushered by a young Pretal who’d been calling to him.

Inside the cave, the cold sank into his bones and Tyler moved as far from the entrance as possible. Most of the others sat around the small cave with their packs unbound and cloaks wrapped tight against the cold. Tyler joined them with great relief. His body shook mildly, and his joints ached from years of abuse.

He found a spot next to another, older Pretal who Tyler knew as Samesh. Quickly unwrapping his cloak, he pulled it back on, relieved to find it nearly as dry as his gear. He curled into a ball and leaned against Samesh.

“We made it, Samesh, perhaps we are not as old as we feel.” Tyler shivered but smiled at the Pretal.

“You are right, Samil, I never thought I would survive that part of the journey. Perhaps Gamel is watching over us and ensuring we make it safely.”

Tyler doubted it, but held his tongue. Samesh was a good man, and like Samil, he’d recently retired after his apprentice completed the Trial of Gesh. Tyler spotted the man’s apprentice across the cave talking with another Pretal. He wondered about Seram, but Samesh commented he was helping others onto the ledge.

Tyler was glad they had young Pretals capable of helping. In his current state, his assistance would likely be more of a hindrance.

He took out a small bottle from inside his cloak and drank a tiny sip of the thick liquid. Instant warmth spread through his body as his mind yielded to a calming numbness. It was one of the Vereen’s miracle drugs Tyler normally reserved for his withdrawal symptoms. It was a mild narcotic, but Tyler found he could function quite well under its influence.

He held the bottle out to Samesh. “Here, drink this. It will make you feel better.”

“What is it?” Samesh asked dubiously.

Tyler lied. “It is something my daughter, Sherim, made for me. It takes away the aches in my joints.” Samesh knew Samil’s daughter and would trust anything she made. Tyler felt guilty for the lie but he knew Samesh would thank him later.

“Only take a small sip.” Tyler warned as Samesh put it to his lips. “A little goes a long way.”

Samesh handed the bottle back and looked surprised as warmth spread through his body.

“Thank you, Samil, I feel better already.” Samesh hugged himself into his cloak and leaned back, relaxing.

They silently watched as more Pretals poured through the opening, arranging themselves in any open space left within the cave. Finally, Minish and the others entered, and Tyler noted their numbers seemed smaller than the original party. Who was missing?

Minish answered his unspoken question. “I have some bad news. We fear Juril and the other Pretals did not make it.”

Tyler remembered the sounds he’d heard. Perhaps they’d been real. Tyler understood how the men would have struggled with their wet cloaks weighing them down. If the lead man slipped, the others would never be able to stop his fall. Like dominos, all would plunge down the face of the cliff to their deaths below.

Tyler shuddered when he thought about it. It could have easily been any one of them. He was relieved Minish had forced them to the end of the line; otherwise, many more might have perished. He hadn’t liked Juril, but he would never wish that kind of death on anyone.

The mood in the cave was somber and few spoke in the awkward silence. What could be said? The young men had been warned, but they didn’t heed the advice of their elders. Often, you could survive that rebellion, but sometimes, you did not. Tyler thought back to Earth and The Darwin Awards. He’d said it himself many times when describing the periodic overdose of a client. He felt bad about their deaths, but he also felt relieved it hadn’t been him. Somehow, their deaths made him feel invincible, as though something made him special.

He knew it to be false, but the feeling persisted even as he sat shivering in the dark cave. Better them than me!

A stricken Minish knelt on the ground, apparently his own strength drained by their loss. It was never easy losing the young, especially during a pilgrimage to their Holy City. It felt wrong and once again raised doubts in one’s beliefs.

“Let us pray for their souls so that Gamel will welcome them into Jurane, despite their folly.” He said as he bowed his head.

Everyone bowed in deference and followed Minish in a long funeral prayer. Tyler prayed absently as numbness spread through his body easing him to sleep. He noticed Samesh beginning to fall asleep and hoped he hadn’t given the older man too much. It was a powerful drug, especially if you’d never taken it before.

The prayer finally ended and Minish rose to his feet.

“I have found a path that leads up the cliff face. We will not have to climb, but the path is narrow, so we must all be careful. At least we should be able to wear our cloaks. We should stop here for the night to sleep before continuing.”

Tyler saw exhaustion written on everyone’s face and figured they’d all sleep like the dead. He would at least try. As he prepared a place to lie down, he spotted Seram near the entrance. The young man wore a look of anger, and Tyler wondered if it was directed at him or at Juril and the other idiots who hadn’t listened.

For a moment, their eyes locked, and Tyler thought he detected a look of regret that he’d made it while the others had not. Do you want me dead, Seram? That is not very holy! You think it would have been better me than them? Tough luck!

Tyler laid down and tried to make the best of a cold, damp bed. Completely exhausted, he fell into a hard sleep.

* * * *

Tyler woke to someone curled behind him. At first, he imagined he was in the cavern with Joriss, but as his eyes adjusted to the gloomy light, he quickly remembered where he was. It was odd to have Samesh curled into him, but he knew the shared body heat had made their night bearable.

It was cold and very little light shone through the dark opening. Tyler spotted others waking, so he got up to relieve himself. He picked his way through the scattered bodies and went out into the cold gray that hid their destination. Cautiously, his back against the cliff, he inched his way slowly to the left of the entrance. He felt his way with an outstretched foot.

Finally convinced he’d found the edge, he relieved himself of what little fluids remained in his body. He hurt from lying on the cold ground but felt remarkably well considering the difficult climb they’d completed. At least they wouldn’t need to do that again—he hoped.

He went back inside the cave and found Seram standing at the entrance snacking on dried cake.

“Good morning, Seram, or is it evening?” Tyler wasn’t certain. Considering how tired they were, they could easily have slept an entire day.

Seram looked at him blankly. “I don’t know. I think it is morning.”

Tyler kept walking. Clearly Seram didn’t want to talk with his mentor. The death of the young men was still too fresh. Tyler spotted Minish and walked over to help him from the ground.

“Thank you, Samil, I truly feel my age today.” He admitted sullenly.

Tyler could imagine the loss of the Pretals hung heavy on the man’s shoulders. He was certain Minish blamed himself for their deaths. He could easily have ordered them to bind their gear with the rest, but that wasn’t Minish’s style. He was no great leader of men, but a great spiritual leader who had great compassion for the people he led. Tyler decided Minish would carry the scars of this journey till the day he died.

It’s a harsh Universe, Minish. Tyler thought coldly.

Eventually, everyone woke from their sleep and took care of immediate needs. While they prepared to depart, the clouds began to clear, and rays of light occasionally broke through the gray, spreading false warmth that was a welcome change from the damp mist. The periodic shafts of light raised everyone’s spirits despite the difficulties they’d sustained.

Most accepted the fate of their fallen comrades and held onto the belief that Gamel would take them into Jurane to spend eternity by his side. Tyler wondered whether such a thing existed. Why make heaven if you could simply create a perfect world?

Tyler never understood religion, although he was the first to admit he had never studied it. It seemed illogical to create a heaven that could only be attained by living in a hell beforehand. What was the purpose? To weed out the unworthy? Then why allow unworthy people to be created? It was a puzzle he’d never solve.

He felt certain Thosolan didn’t have such a system but knew many religions back on Earth had. He had his own problems to contend with and didn’t need those associated with a mythical after-life. As far as he was concerned, this was his after-life.

By the time everyone was prepared for the next leg of the journey, the sun was fully out. Each man took turns looking down the cliff face, hoping to see signs of what had happened to Juril and his followers. Unfortunately, even though they were in the clear, clouds still obscured the ground below. It was a strange and unique feeling being so far above the cloud tops, looking down on their misty carpet. As far as Tyler could see, unbroken clouds stretched from the mountains to a distant horizon towards the sea to the south.

The sun quickly dried their clothing, and everyone was ready to find the ancient path to the Holy City. Minish led them up the narrow ledge, and they could finally see what must be the top. For Tyler, it was a blessing to get back on more solid footing.

As they reached the top, they were stunned by the perfectly carved path cutting through the mountain forest. It wrapped along the mountain heading east while occasionally dipping out of sight because of the dense vegetation. Tyler could only describe the surrounding forest as jungle.

The trees and vines hung heavily over the path obscuring the sky, while leaving the ground remarkably clear. Nothing littered the actual road despite the encroaching vegetation uphill and abundance overhead.

Everyone was dumbstruck by the obvious bounty they could not partake in. It was a paradise compared to the barren desert they’d come from. Tyler thought back to River Red and had a momentary urge to run through the dense vegetation, free and wild. He held back his enthusiasm while remembering Minish’s warnings. saythers dwelled in the forest, and that was enough to keep him on the path.

Minish gathered them for prayer and final warnings before they traversed the mysterious path. As the thirty men fell in line, Tyler smiled at the bizarre thought of the Wizard of Oz. We’re off to see the wizard! He put another blade of grass in his mouth and fell in line.

* * * *

They traveled for over two weeks, and the path remained as boring as it was mysterious. Forest debris never littered the path, and the contour of the ground remained exactly the same regardless of where you were. Periodically, they heard or saw rain in the forest, but it never penetrated the overhead canopy protecting the path. Tyler found it truly remarkable but was pleased they would remain dry throughout the journey.

Many of the Pretals already ran low on food, and Tyler noted more than a couple eyeing the low hanging fruit overhead. It was certainly tempting, but Tyler rather enjoyed the new, more vigorous Samil that had been created from the rigors. Not only did he feel better than before his heart attack, he’d lost weight which made the going easier and his step lighter.

A side benefit was the extraordinary highs he experienced while enjoying his private stash. He often partook nearly all day and still found he could easily keep up with the younger Pretals. It was the surest way to avoid the monotonous boredom the never ending path provided.

Most eyed him warily as he smiled and laughed along their trek. Everyone else wore somber expressions, apparently fighting their own inner demons of faith. As hunger became more real, he imagined many of the Pretals began to question their god’s protection. What would happen when they ran out of food? Could they continue indefinitely with only their faith to sustain them? It would be like the Trial of Gesh, a part of their life most wanted to forget.

Only the newer Pretals seemed unaffected by the rigorous journey as their memory of the trial was still so fresh. Without the searing desert sun, it was like a brisk walk in the park. With their faith recently renewed, their experience on the trial would carry them unto the very brink of death.

Not so the older Pretals. Apparently they’d grown soft and complacent over the years, and this journey was refreshing their memories of the unpleasant realities of their religion. What remaining faith they possessed would soon be tested as food ran out.

Tyler smiled inwardly. He’d seen death often enough and was comfortable with the stark existence they endured. For Tyler, the monotony was far worse than hunger. Fortunately, he’d prepared.

He even began reading from the text he’d brought, fascinated by the world that had once existed. Apparently, Gamel had once possessed thriving societies that included technology, at least more than today, and trade was the basis of that ancient economy from the highest mountains to the ocean coastlines. It was strange to read about something that had been so wonderful but now looked like a never ending purgatory.

In Tyler’s drug clouded mind, he wondered what god could bring his people down to such a place. Why would a god want to punish his creations and take away the very pleasures that made life worth living? What could heaven or Jurane as they called it offer a soul that had foregone all pleasures during life? A spiritual uplifting surpassing anything the body could experience? After speaking with Thosolan, he could not imagine such a thing existed.

One thing was certain, their barren subsistence was destroying their ability to reproduce. He was convinced the drop in reproduction was not generalized to a particular region but was widespread around the planet. Their diet was particularly poor, and Tyler imagined the harsh plants lacked vitamins and minerals essential to a healthy body. They were alive, but on the brink of extinction.

He thought about the Vereen and her ability to prevent pregnancy despite the hedonistic propensity towards sex. It was counter to the rest of society, and they were clearly far outside the religious tenets prescribed to the rest of the population. If they could modify the body to prevent pregnancy, could they modify it to cause pregnancy? Considering their detailed knowledge of the pharmacological properties of the planet’s plant life, Tyler thought it was not outside the realm of possibility.

But would they ever use that knowledge? Tyler wasn’t versed in the inner workings of their cult, but neither he nor Samil had ever seen anything to suggest a desire to propagate. Surely there was more to their religion than simple pleasures? Did they desire the extinction of the existing culture so they could replace it with a new religion espousing health and prosperity? Clearly they possessed the power to change the course of history with narcotics, but had they already been doing that for the last five thousand years?

But what about the pilgrimage to Malane? He knew the Vereen believed in Gamel, but did she believe he would return to the Holy City? If she did, how could their way of life continue in the face of such power?

They were difficult questions, but Tyler found himself seduced by the intrigue. If the old text contained real dreams about a distant reality before Gamel had abandoned his people, then the planet had once been a paradise. Their religion espoused a belief in a paradise that would come with the return of their god. Did the followers of the cult believe something similar? He wished he’d asked more questions when he’d been with the Vereen. But during those encounters, his mind focused on only one thing, and it wasn’t religion or intellectual conversation.

No one knew for certain how long they would follow the path, and Tyler was surprised to discover no detailed maps existed. None of the ancient texts provided as much as a single diagram, so he was likely the only one who knew the northern and southern hemispheres were mirror images of each other.

He thought about thousands of villages circling the mountains and was curious why no other groups, or signs of other groups, were seen along the path. It was the only path mentioned in the texts, and by Tyler’s estimates, there were thousands of such groups making their way to the Holy City.

Would they all meet somewhere along the way, or was Malane the only place they could congregate? It was an odd feeling to know so many people traveled along the same route but never saw each other. Was this just another mystery of this path? He likened it to the yellow brick road, wondering what new surprises they might uncover around the next bend. But each time they rounded the next bend, it was the same as the previous one.

The group finally stopped for the day, and each man picked a spot on the trail to bunk down for the night. Tyler always selected a place on the left side of the path where a small embankment provided a reasonable back rest. The ground was uniformly hard, but Tyler found sleeping at an incline took much of the stress off his upper body’s pressure points. Considering Samil’s age, this was a necessity.

Tyler sat down and took stock of his supplies. He was disappointed to discover he was nearly out of the licorice flavored grass that had sustained him for so long. The plant didn’t grow anywhere along the path, and he assumed it was strictly local to the foothills at the base of the cliff. What would he do when it ran out?

Since everything surrounding the path was technically part of the forest, they were forbidden to remove any part of it. Tyler had spotted hundreds of varieties of plants peeking out of the forest and assumed many provided a rich ability to sustain the travelers. However, Tyler wasn’t yet ready to tempt fate. His newfound interest in the planet and its future kept him on the golden path of righteousness, for now. Well, at least righteousness as he defined it.

He still had a majority of his food, and his stash of narcotics was surprisingly full. He felt like the drugs were a never ending supply like the mysterious water in their flasks, but he knew they would eventually run out. After that, he would truly be at a loss. Samil’s body hungered for the drugs, and without them Tyler would go through a hellish withdrawal.

He forced those thoughts from his mind as he re-packed his supplies and settled into the embankment. The path wound its way along the cliff’s edge and Tyler stared across the vast foothills stretching into the misty horizon. Somewhere below, villages dotted the edge of the desert as people, bereft of their spiritual leaders, moved on with their lives as best they could

It was a scary time for the common man. Would their god return? Would their religious leaders return? If they did, would they bring back the promised bounty? So much rode on the backs of these Pretals, Tyler was glad Seram took over Kidium. Tyler’s position was like a consultant, there if needed, but not required.

He didn’t plan on returning anyway, god or no god, but he wished the villagers well. They treated him warily after Seram took over, but he had never experienced open hostilities. They were simple folk wanting a simple life. He wished they would be granted their prosperity and be given the opportunity to thrive. But unless their god returned, they would never thrive unless they found a way to take advantage of the forest’s forbidden bounty.

Considering the Vereen’s rich cupboard of plant extracts, he often wondered whether the cult harvested plants from the forest. The Vereen never admitted such a thing, but it seemed unlikely everything they used was found in the lower foothills and desert. Samil’s memories of Sherim’s medicines indicated a far smaller stock than the Vereen’s. Granted, the Vereen sought plants that produced narcotic effects for ritual orgies, but she was also a wonderful healer. Tyler doubted he would have survived the heart attack under Sherim’s care.

He looked at the canopy overhead and spotted at least four different fruit. Flowers on the trees tempted with exotic perfumes beckoning with the sweetness of the fruit they provided. Sitting idly below this cornucopia made it all the more tempting, but Tyler held onto his resolve. Better to ingest his narcotics.

He slid one of the small bottles from his inner pocket and took a tiny sip. He felt an immediate warming sensation as the drug spread through his body. Like back in the damp cave, it eased his aching joints and numbed him to the constant boredom.

He knew Minish would soon lead them in prayer, but Tyler had some time to kill beforehand. He opened his text and began reading where he’d left off. The current passage described a dream in which people of the ancient planet built beautiful temples to their god. Back then, the world was filled with skilled artisans who erected monumental shrines and filled them with wonderful mosaics.

Tyler read, numb, fascinated, and glad he didn’t have to be sober for their journey. In his dull mind, he began to imagine the journey might just end well after all.

* * * *

Another three weeks passed, and even Tyler’s drug stash failed to prevent the overwhelming boredom consuming them. Tyler spotted desperate looks on some of the Pretal’s faces, and after a while, some even got short with each other over trivial things, like where to bed down.

Tyler ignored their exchanges but knew many were close to cracking. Five weeks on the path and there was no indication they had made any significant progress towards their goal. Tyler thought their villages might easily be on the other side of the planet from Malane and realized with horror they could have many months ahead.

None of the religious texts mentioned extraordinary lengths of travel to get to Malane, but Tyler understood the scope of a planet’s size and wondered. The date of the god’s return was well known, and each Pretare was given a specific date to leave on the journey, so apparently the distance and time had been calculated. If that were true, then they still had a couple months before the actual return of their god.

Tyler didn’t think they would make it if they weren’t yet half way. He knew many of the Pretals were running low on food, and the hanging fruit overhead taunted them as they passed underneath. Tyler still possessed half his food, but he noticed the hunger pangs grew more intense each day. He was lean, muscular, and more fit than Samil had ever been, but that only put additional demands on the body for sustenance.

Although he had never experienced an increased appetite from drug use, he often found some of the Vereen’s drugs created a powerful hunger. He’d since limited their use or stopped altogether. He knew he would get through the hunger, but the never ending lack of change was taking its toll. Even Minish was affected by the long and tedious journey.

They had stopped on one of the parts of the path where the forest surrounded them on both sides. It was dark despite sunset being far off, but the long stretch through the forest forced Minish to stop for the day. Tyler sat against the embankment and listened to the forest around them.

He’d finished his book and found it difficult to sit idly while waiting for the next day. Sleep was easy enough, but the nightmares were increasing in frequency. More than once he woke in a sweat while ghoulish images of bloody massacres filled his mind’s eye. After each episode, he found he could not return to sleep. He was feeling the effects of sleep deprivation, and it only added to the tortuous passage.

The forest hummed with the normal sounds of animals and what Tyler assumed were birds. It was strange how the forest was often filled with a cacophony of animal cries while at other times it was eerily silent. During those quiet stretches, Tyler peered warily into the dense foliage, expecting the red glow of sayther eyes. Thankfully, the saythers were still only in his imagination.

He spotted Seram talking with Minish and wondered if the young man was plotting to gain rank within the church. Tyler never imagined Seram as ambitious, but his constant discussions with Minish were beginning to get suspicious.

Seram walked away as Minish called them to order.

“Gentlemen, we must hold ourselves together through this trying journey. Our good friend, Pretal Seram, has given me a suggestion for how we might spend these late day periods in a positive way.”

Minish looked hopeful, but another Pretal spoke up belligerently. “Has he a suggestion for what we’ll do when our hunger is too much to bear?” The young man looked about defiantly, trying to rally others to his cause. “Perhaps more prayer will satisfy our hunger!”

Minish’s face drooped as he was forced to combat the growing division in their ranks. “Please, Manit, this won’t help us complete our monumental trip. Gamel tests us and we must not fail if we are to succeed. Think about your village and the hopes your people have.”

Manit would not back down. “Yeah, I’m thinking about my village all right—I’m thinking about a nice warm fire, some ale, and a full meal. I can’t take another night on this damned trail of boredom with an empty stomach.”

“Please, Manit, you can share some of my food if you need it.” Minish pleaded with the young man to no avail.

“I don’t want your pity Pretare. I want to know when this will end!”

Tyler noted other men nodded in agreement. They weren’t willing to voice their opinions audibly, but they clearly held similar grievances.

“I don’t offer you pity, Manit, I offer you faith. Did that not sustain you on your Trial of Gesh?”

“Sure, when I was young and stupid! I have faith, Minish—I have faith we are all going to die out here.”

The comment stung as the Minish realized he was losing his flock. Their faith was being tested, and many were no longer up to the challenge. Tyler thought Manit was premature with his complaints. If they weren’t even half way, what would happen in another three weeks? Mutiny? Would the Pretals succumb to their bodily desires and take from the forest?

A part of Tyler liked the exchange, at least it wasn’t boring. But would it come to blows? Normally, the people of Gamel were peaceful and non-violent, but under such stress, Tyler imagined anything could happen. It was one thing to be pious and faithful inside Temple walls, but another out in the open, exposed to the harshness of their world.

“We will not die, Manit, as long as we all take care of each other and maintain our faith in Gamel. Please, let us try Seram’s suggestion. It may help overcome our doubts.”

Manit was disgusted and threw his hand up in front of him. “You try his suggestion. I want no part of it!”

Manit turned and walked back along the trail from where they’d come. Another Pretal, apparently siding with Manit, followed him down the forest corridor until they went around the bend and disappeared.

Tyler wondered if the two men would try to make their way back home. Tyler wasn’t certain he could find the spot where they had come onto the path, so how could two men with little food and no faith?

Minish was concerned but tried to get the rest of them past the incident. “I hope they will return—I understand their frustrations. We all understand them. Please, everyone, let’s gather around in a circle while Seram leads us in discussions about our faith and our circumstance. Sometimes the release, well, a healthy release at least, can restore our faith and keep us strong.”

They moved into a circle, and Tyler reluctantly joined them. He had infused himself with drugs and was willing to participate if for no other reason than to break the monotony. Fellowship was not a strong suit for Tyler, but it beat staring at trees.

* * * *

When morning came, their small group was rudely awakened by the scream of a Pretal. Tyler had been in a deep sleep without nightmares and was upset at being roused so early from a much needed rest. The Pretal pointed wildly at the ground while speaking unintelligibly about “they got them”. Minish ran to the young man and stared in horror at the spot.

Since Tyler was awake, he decided to see what the problem was. What could happen on this never ending path? He moved toward the center of the group and looked at the ground. Two sets of clothing were laid in a jumble with obvious signs of being shredded. Tyler froze as he remembered nightmares of ripping claws and gnashing fangs. Was this what had happened to the two young men?

Tyler stared at the frozen faces around him and realized the clothing belonged to Manit and his fellow dissenter. Was this their punishment for losing faith? It seemed unlikely, but what else explained it?

It was eerie to see such a violent rending with no bloody traces. It was as if the sayther had simply unwrapped a present to take into the forest. Tyler couldn’t even see tracks in the dirt.

He knelt beside one of the cloaks, and a half eaten piece of fruit fell to the ground when he picked the cloak up. Everyone stared in horror. It was true; partake in the forest’s bounty and you would pay a price. He held up the cloak and stared at the multiple claw marks which tore it apart. He shuddered in remembrance of similar nightmares.

The faces around him grew panic stricken, and the Pretals began huddling closer together as they stared mortified into the dark forest. Tyler could read their thoughts, Will I be next? If nothing else, few would openly argue with Minish again.

Minish took charge. “Okay, everyone, move back so we can gather Manit’s and Salmed’s gear.”

The Pretals hesitated as they feared further sayther attacks but finally moved from the grisly scene. Tyler doubted they were in danger. After all, they could have been attacked at anytime during their journey. It was clear you had to break the rules to meet such a fate.

Not even half way and they had already lost five men. The twenty-eight Pretals packed their gear in silence before performing prayers for the fallen. They had a long way to go, and it weighed heavily upon the small group. Tyler wondered how the other groups around the world were fairing. How many would actually make it to Malane? It was a sobering thought.

* * * *

Hours turned to days, days turned to weeks, and weeks into months. The never ending sameness of the path took its toll, and even Tyler found it hard to stay on the seemingly endless walk. He tortured himself by imagining they were walking in circles, covering the same ground over and over because of some twisted joke played by a cruel god.

Tyler noted even Minish looked weathered and without hope. Was this the purpose of this trip? Like the Trial of Gesh, were they to walk unbelievable distances through bountiful temptations while resisting the urge to indulge? The difference here was the lack of a burning desert sun, and they already walked far longer than forty days. When would it end? When would the ancient walls of Perneer come into view and signal they neared their final destination?

At least Tyler brought his own indulgences, but even he found it difficult to continue perneem without the sexual release of the Vereen or Joriss. His other drugs were running low and he felt his body rebelling against the constant boredom and withdrawals. He would soon have no choice but to partake and suffer the painful effects the hyper-sensitizing drug created without a sexual release.

Erotic dreams would probably be sufficient if he had dreams. However, the nightmares of saythers interrupted his sleep, and the gory details of each one ran through his mind as they continued their steady march. Were they just dreams or something more sinister? He felt the effects on his mind as he eyed the surrounding forest warily. Sleep was harder to achieve despite his pharmacopoeia, and he’d often hallucinated red eyes on the trail, although he wasn’t certain they weren’t real.

What were these saythers and why did they haunt him incessantly? Clearly they played a role on this world, but was it only to kill all who took from the forest? Were there other reasons more demonic and deadly? The nightmares showed vast hordes of the dark creatures ready to destroy anyone, or anything, opposing their god. Were they angel equivalents to Gamel? Tyler didn’t think angel was the right fit—they seemed far from angelic.

After losing Manit and Salmed, everyone was more cautious when venturing off the trail. Some reported strange growling sounds in the distance, described as emanating from something large. Others found dense foliage hiding thorny plants that entangled a person and were virtually impossible to remove.

The forest held bounties galore, but it also hid things Tyler feared they didn’t want to meet. How many of the plants and animals were poisonous? How many were predators? Despite the ancient assurances they were safe, Tyler and many of the others constantly glanced from side to side as they continued the trek. Everyone was nervous, and the intense monotony magnified those fears.

They currently sat quietly on the path, preparing for sleep, and Tyler was actually happy after the evening fellowship that surfaced fears and concerns. It made it easier to suffer when you realized others suffered with you. Although he was often high during these discussions, he was actually enjoying them.

Seram had become the leader of these campfire sessions, and Tyler had to admit he was good at it. He was the rallying strength keeping everyone moving forward. He called to their faith and gave them the fortitude to look beyond their current circumstances to the end goal of fellowship with their god.

Tyler didn’t much care for the religious aspects of the discussion, but he found the break in the boredom always welcome. They took turns reading from their texts, and despite the clear sermons buried within the ancient documents, Tyler found many of the tales exciting. It was better than the alternative—nightmares.

Most laid warmly within their cloaks while Tyler leaned against a tree looking through a rare opening in the canopy at the brilliant stars overhead. On Earth, he’d never seen stars so vivid. Too much light from the city and moon obscured the distant galaxies and worlds. He’d been there among those heavenly bodies and despite his wonderful vantage on Gamel, he decided they were still seen best from space.

He debated whether he should partake of perneem. His body ached with desire, but would he have dreams of Toosia and Linda, or would it be nightmares of saythers ravaging bodies in a gross carnage?

Tyler knew he’d wrought his own carnage during his rampage through the Universe, but something about the saythers disturbed him. They seemed almost mindless, without pity, and without purpose. It was as if the killing was pleasurable for the dark creatures, not an instinctive need to feed or defend. Because of that, they were like the Onyalum—destruction for the sake of destruction.

As Tyler relived his own atrocities, he felt an overwhelming pang of guilt and reached for the pipe to dull the pain. Many were still awake, so he would have to move into the trees to consume his precious drug.

As he rose from his seat, a scream pierced the trees to his left. It was one of the Pretals, and from the crashing sounds interspersed with cries, Tyler knew the young man was being dragged through the undergrowth deeper into the forest. Something had caught him, and they were running away with their prize.

Tyler shivered with memories this invoked, both good and bad. Everyone froze as they listened to the crashing through the heavy undergrowth. His screams echoed through the trees until suddenly stopped short. Tyler vividly remembered the death strangle that was a common technique with large predators. It suffocated the victim while silencing the screams that might give away your position to other predators.

The man was dead as the forest fell eerily silent. Everyone held their breaths, waiting for a sign the he had yet survived. It would not come, the creature had sounded quite large.

Tyler placed his pipe back into his inner pocket and backed away from the forest. He suddenly lost his craving for perneem and stared into the forest expecting a monster to come barging through the trees. He didn’t think it was a sayther. It was much too noisy. Saythers were silent.

Someone broke the quiet. “Minish, we must help save Samrane, he can’t be too far off!”

Tyler recognized the man. He’d been close with Samrane and clearly wanted to help him. Too bad Samrane was no longer alive. Tyler knew it, but held his tongue.

Everyone stared at the young man, a look of disbelief in their eyes. The fear was a palpable fog drifting through the camp. Even Minish was frightened. He turned to the young man, uncertain how to respond.

“And … and what would you have us do?” Minish knew no one would willingly go into the dark forest looking for a dead body, or remnants of one.

On Gamel, there were no predators on the desert floor, just the villages and their stark existence. This was something new and frightening. Tyler could do it, but he knew he wouldn’t return. What would the purpose be? Samrane was gone and nothing would save him. By now, only scraps remained from the meal he’d provided.

As if on cue, a blood curdling roar shook the forest as the creature howled success to the rest of the denizens. Tyler shook in reaction to the startling sound. As River Red, he’d become accustomed to those roars, and judging by the deep tone of this one, the creature was enormous.

Tyler’s current thought was whether Samrane had been a sufficient meal, or whether the creature would come back for more? Tyler felt like telling Minish they should move on, but Minish beat him to it.

“Okay, everyone, grab your belongings, we will move further down the trail tonight and rest in the morning.”

No one argued, not even Samrane’s friend. With eyes peering cautiously into the dark woods, they moved silently down the path toward other unknowns.

* * * *

After Samrane’s brutal attack, Tyler refused to go into the forest. Instead, he would walk back along the path until he faded into the darkness or around a bend. Considering nothing had been seen on the path, he felt relatively safe to be alone. It was enough to continue his drug use, a necessity on the never ending trip.

The trail began to take a noticeably downward slant, and Tyler felt they were moving farther inward away from the cliff. It had been at least a week since they had glimpsed the distant horizon, so they clearly entered the mountain’s interior while moving lower in altitude.

Like everyone else, Tyler hoped they were nearing Perneer and the final leg of their journey. Although he had adequate food and water, he was convinced he would go crazy if they were forced to stay on the interminable path much longer. He felt claustrophobic and snapped angrily at fellow travelers over minor things. He wasn’t the only one. Everyone grew edgy after Samrane’s death.

Tyler plodded near the back of the line and was surprised when an opening on their left showed they were moving down towards a valley floor formed between two mountains. Surely they neared the end, why else would they be going down? He stared across the valley and noticed its summit was obscured by a thick veil of clouds. He remembered the climb up the cliff and hoped they would not have to climb to the other side, even if it was the easy path.

Others in the group murmured to each other about the new view and obvious descent. Clearly, they were excited by the prospects of nearing the end of the journey. Unlike Tyler, most had little food left, and hunger took its toll on their bodies and spirits. Tyler knew they would not partake of the forest after what happened to Manit and his friend, but their eyes constantly darted to the trees overhead and the fresh fruit hanging there. Tyler knew what hunger could do, and he saw many of the Pretals donning desperate faces that meant they’d kill for food.

Now, however, their spirits were buoyed by the hope the end was near, and their pace quickened in anticipation. Even Tyler was excited to reach the bottom by nightfall.

* * * *

Unfortunately, it took two more days before they reached the bottom and out onto the desert floor. Their path merged with four others leading to different parts of their world. There were no signs anyone had recently traveled them, but Tyler felt certain many must have crossed this point.

The trails merged just short of the desert, and as they moved out of the forest, the trail itself disappeared into the dry, barren landscape. Tyler had never seen so little life. It was as though they had passed an invisible line demarcating the lush forest and the sandy dunes that disappeared to the south in a shimmering haze. Tyler was thankful they would not have to cross that stretch of nothingness.

Already the dry heat stole what little moisture they’d built up along the mountain trail, and Tyler found his unlimited supply of water gone. Others around him discovered the same thing, and Tyler understood why they could not have made the journey walking along the base of the mountains. Apparently, the path was enchanted in some fashion, and now that they were off it, they would have to sustain themselves as best they could.

Fortunately, they were well suited to the desert environment, and everyone put their flasks away as they moved off to the left, following the base of the mountains towards the ancient city still hidden from view.

Tyler always wondered what Perneer would look like. It was supposedly a huge city in its glory days, and to listen to the Vereen, it sounded like most of the structures still stood intact—empty and untouched by all but the sands of the desert.

They made slow progress through the loose footing, and Tyler felt the heat draining the energy he’d maintained in the mountains. How far to the city? Would they make it before nightfall? Minish told them they were forbidden to enter the ancient dwelling, but would camp outside its walls if needed. The final trail to Malane was just behind the city where the walls backed into the mountains.

Tyler surveyed the landscape ahead but spotted only shimmering browns of desert sand reflecting the sun. They still had farther to go. The journey had truly been a test of faith. What would they do if Gamel didn’t re-appear? It would shatter all of the holy men, and he doubted most would make it back to their villages after such despair.

What would he do if Gamel did return? As they drew closer, he felt uneasy with the prospect. What if Gamel could tell Tyler was a fraud? What if he demanded proof of their faith? Tyler had no faith and felt certain he couldn’t fake it. He was a severe substance abuser, and he had no illusions their god would not smile upon that.

He stared into the distant heat and worried the destination might be far worse than the journey.

Fear No Evil

They walked several more days on the desert floor before Perneer’s walls finally rose above the shimmering horizon. Everyone was mesmerized by the vision of something they’d only read about in holy texts. Considering the distance to its great walls, Tyler estimated the city’s size was considerable—especially for such a primitive world.

Tyler saw hundreds of large towers and buildings thrusting high into the sky. Against the barren landscape, the white walls gave the impression of dried bones from some ancient beast. Tyler saw no life and wondered how many other groups had already passed.

Minish greeted the ancient city with a clear sign of relief. He informed the group they would camp outside its walls that night, and that increased everyone’s pace. The city represented a major landmark. After Perneer, the final leg was relatively short, therefore, the end was near.

Staring at the great walls, Tyler wanted to explore the empty streets and buildings of this ancient city abandoned thousands of years before. He’d never been anywhere with buildings so old. For that matter, he’d never left the United States, and although it had a rich history, it was only hundreds of years old.

Perneer was like the pyramids of Egypt. He wondered what the city had been like before its fall from grace. What technology had they employed? Plumbing? Electricity? Were these things developed during those early times under the grace of their god?

Ever since leaving Poolto, Tyler rarely enjoyed such comforts, and even now, he did not long for them, although he was curious of their existence. The city had been called the greatest on the planet, and since it directly competed with the Holy City of Malane, Tyler understood its downfall. If this was the competition, what must Malane look like?

As they neared the towering walls, they located a spot to camp beneath the foothills leading back into the mountains. Everyone remained silent as they settled down beneath the shadows of the massive monument to a lost time and culture. Tyler could only imagine what ran through the Pretal’s minds. Was their god really responsible for the destruction of something so massive? How many people had been destroyed?

The legend became myth, yet here it stood before them, real and tangible. Considering the huts of their villages, the enormous city was both strange and frightening. Like someone from a rural America visiting New York City or Los Angeles for the first time. The sight would be both wondrous and daunting.

Under their current circumstances, he believed many would wonder how so many people could have been fed within such a great city. For those well versed in the ancient texts, they would know of the vast plains that once stretched from the mountains to the sea. Food was not only abundant, but varied. They’d had fruit and nuts from the mountains, grain from the fields, and seafood from the oceans. A true economy had existed, and with it, a massive population had been sustained within these white walls. Perneer had been the New York City of Gamel.

Now, only timeless sand stood watch at the gates of the fallen city. Their economy destroyed, and with it, the abundant food. Except for Tyler, none of the Pretals even knew what seafood was. Fish, fruit, and grains were no longer a part of their diet. Now it was a meager subsistence on what could be coaxed from the harsh desert. It sustained them but decimated their population with meager nutrients.

What had it been like?

Tyler mulled the idea of entering the forbidden city and touring the ancient past. Although his absence from the group would not be questioned, the hour was late, and Tyler had no light with which to search the dark streets and buildings. He was certain Minish would want to leave at first light considering how close they were to Malane. For most, this ancient city was a monument to corruption and evil—a beacon of the sins that had brought the planet to its knees. He understood if they all wished to leave its presence as quickly as possible.

Tyler found a quiet spot on the fringe of the group, staying close while others foraged for fuel and food. After leaving the mountains, they could once again pick from the meager food available within the desert and use what little resources were available. They had been so long on the road without a fire, Tyler looked forward to the light and heat it provided.

Thankfully, as a senior member of the group, he was exempt from such chores, set to the younger Pretals. For that, he was grateful. He sat on the ground and stared at the white walls stretching toward the open desert. He tried to imagine what it must have been like for Gesh walking into the great city after Gamel had destroyed it. Hundreds of thousands of people would have been turned to dust, and a bright young man like Gesh would have realized this. How would he have felt? How had he kept his faith in a god that had destroyed so many? Was fear what kept him strong or did he have a genuine love for his angry Creator?

Tyler had no way of knowing if the story were even true. Ancient texts were notorious for creating mythical magic out of tragedies that were simply a natural evolution of a planet. Floods, drought, and famines were often attributed to angry gods and sinful societies rather than natural consequences of living on an active planet. Tyler vaguely remembered his science classes and Mr. Thornton explaining the ancient world of the dinosaurs. Earth had been warm, lush, and maintained a huge and diverse population from the bounty of the planet. He even recalled a television show that explained how dinosaurs had once roamed freely on Antarctica. But all that changed millions of years before man even appeared.

Was this desert caused by the wrath of a god or was it a consequence of natural climactic changes? Since arriving on Gamel, Tyler had never felt an earthquake, a regular occurrence in Los Angeles. Was the planet cooling? Was the core no longer active enough to cause movement on the land above? For Tyler, the planet seemed extraordinarily sterile, unless you were in the mountains. But those rich forests were forbidden, so the people continued to perish on the desert floor. God or no god, life was constrained to living around the equatorial belt of rich mountains ringing this world.

Was there still life in the oceans? Tyler yearned to be an Onyalum and move in a blink of an eye to the distant shores and poles. At the time he’d first found Gamel, he’d had no interest in its ecology or history. Escape was all he’d wanted, so he’d ignored the strangeness of the planet turning slowly below him. Was the planet tilted? Did they have real seasons? At the equator, he’d never know while daylight and darkness were equal. The air temperatures and weather never varied from one day to the next.

The only weather he’d seen was in the mountains, but they’d been sheltered from even that while on the holy path. Clearly it rained in the upper altitudes, but the temperature remained constant. He could not remember feeling cold at night or hot during the day. The lush vegetation was a strong indicator of mild temperatures and ample moisture. Were the mountains the only place on the planet with weather?

His recollections while circling above the world was a clear view of the northern and southern hemispheres. That meant little cloud cover, thus little weather. Only the equatorial mountains were dotted with white cloud tops surrounding the mountain peaks.

The smell of smoke brought Tyler from his reverie and he moved closer to the crackling warmth. Although wood was scarce on the desert floor, the people of Gamel had long since harvested an abundant cactus-like plant from the craggy foothills for fire. The meat of the plant burned slowly, like coal, and provided steady warmth during long cold nights.

Tyler grew accustomed to the bitter smell of the smoke from these fires and even enjoyed the exotic scent, especially after so long without. He settled next to the fire with the older men who’d waited for its fabulous heat. The younger men readied a meal from the grubs and plants they’d successfully foraged out of the dry landscape. Tyler looked forward to something other than the dried food in his pack.

The sun set in the west, and its warm glow lit the walls of Perneer in a blood red display. The effect was both fantastic and surreal. In a rare moment of reflection, Tyler missed the beautiful sunsets of Los Angeles. He and Linda would occasionally stay home, sitting on their deck as the sun sank into the Pacific, igniting the Los Angeles basin in a warm red glow. A dull ache grew in his stomach as he remembered that previous life. He held back tears for that loss. It had been a small and insignificant world, but it had been his.

* * * *

After their meal, Seram led the group in fellowship as their destination drew near. For once, Tyler declined the religious fervor. He walked back along the foothills to a secluded spot to enjoy his own personal fellowship. The memory of Earth had revived his desires for perneem.

What was more fitting than to partake of its sweet smoke outside the walls of the city for which it had been named? Perhaps they had invented the drug or at least made it a staple of the economy. Did they have drug dealers like Tyler had once been? He doubted the drug had been illegal. If the city were truly decadent, then orgies and narcotics would have been a mainstay for the people within its walls.

Even by starlight, the great white walls glowed through the moonless dark, beckoning to an intoxicated Tyler. He yearned to be within its walls, intoxicated, naked, and pursuing his fantasies with others lost in the enchantment of the powerful drug. He sat against a large boulder dreaming of the mythical city. He imagined Toosia and Linda smothering him with their warmth, inviting him to partake in the earthly pleasures their bodies would provide.

He became lost in the dream and fell asleep under the starry skies of a distant world.

* * * *

It was late when Tyler made his way back to the camp and the warmth of the fires that would still be burning. The night had grown cold and Tyler was particularly vulnerable after using perneem.

He moved toward the towering walls and spotted the glowing fires through the darkness. Everyone appeared asleep, so Tyler would have to be careful not to wake them. As he neared the light, he caught movement against the distant city walls. Was the city really abandoned? Perhaps there were actually people who ignored the ban and lived in its confines.

He entered the light of the camp and noticed something odd. The camp was deserted, and Tyler felt a sinking feeling as he watched the shadowy figures in the distance. Was Minish taking them into the city? That would be very odd, and Tyler’s instincts told him something was wrong.

He ran to catch the dark figures rounding the corner of the walls toward the north entrance. In his condition, he quickly ran out of breath from the fast pace. The stubby body and strange waddle made progress slow and difficult. He finally reached the corner of the wall and rounded it to darkness stretching east into gloom. No movement, shadows, or figures crept through the blackness. A part of him wanted to turn back and return to the camp to await their return. But he knew he couldn’t leave. He would have to follow them into the city. He ran along the wall as it sloped down along the uneven ground. In the distance, he spotted the glow of a fire reflecting off the high walls. Surely, that was the entrance.

As he crept closer, dark figures moved in and out of the large break in the wall. It was too dark to get a good look at who they were, but Tyler felt certain it was not his fellow Pretals. None of the figures looked to be wearing religious robes.

Tyler slowed and lay back against the wall to assess the situation. Although the planet did not know violence or conflict, Tyler reasoned it was possible for people to inhabit the dead city after many thousand years. What would they think if thousands of religious people suddenly appeared outside their walls? Would they be gracious and invite them in for a meal or would they be defensive and protect their city from what looked like an invasion?

He’d never know skulking along the wall, so he moved in closer to see the people moving near the entrance. So far, no one noticed him, but he felt a sharp sting on the back of his neck that nearly made him yell.

His hand reached for the area that had been bit, and he wondered what insect could deliver such a painful sting. As far as he knew, Gamel had no blood sucking insects, at least he’d never seen any up till now. The spot of the sting grew intense, and he suddenly felt weakness overcome him. He staggered toward the wall, trying to keep upright, but his swirling vision made it difficult to keep his balance. With a flailing grasp, he lurched toward what he thought was the wall, but found only air.

He fell to the ground hard while black dots blurred his vision. He rolled onto his back and stared blankly at the smear of stars undulating overhead. It was as if a white paint brush had wiped them haplessly onto a black canvas. As the darkness overtook him, a strange face blocked out the stars. He wanted the face to move despite the mesmerizing colors obscuring its features. It looked more like a painting than a real face, and Tyler laughed. At least he thought he laughed. He wasn’t sure, and it didn’t matter as the darkness enfolded him in its restful embrace.

* * * *

The acrid smell of a fire woke Tyler. His eyes slowly adjusted to the flickering fire light as myriad shapes moved throughout the cavernous room. It was the temple from his nightmares, but instead of saythers, he saw real people in colorful masks building pyres from enormous logs. Many of these pyres burned while others smoldered as piles of ash.

Tyler tried to sit up but was bound to a large log like those in the pyres. His head felt fuzzy and he wondered if this were yet another in a long line of nightmares. He was completely naked as were other men also tied to logs.

Were they burning the men on the logs? It matched so many of his nightmares he felt certain this was yet another in the infinite chain of restless nights. By arching over the log, he spotted people discussing something toward the back of the light. He wasn’t certain, but one of them reminded him of the Vereen. Why would she be here? She had never appeared in his nightmares before.

In front of the group, another pyre was just finished and they were tying men to the teepee like logs. The men appeared drugged and seemed oblivious to the dire situation they faced. Tyler could clearly see women watching the masked people loading each log with a helpless soul.

Surely this was another nightmare? He’d never seen or heard of violence among the people on Gamel. This was yet one more hallucination caused by his drug addiction, wasn’t it? The nightmares grew worse, and for Tyler, much too real for his liking.

He desperately struggled to remember where he’d been and what he’d been doing before the dream. Had he been smoking perneem and fallen asleep? He felt the memory in his mind, but it was elusive and slipped out of reach. He remembered the trip through the mountains, and the desert, or at least he thought they had reached the desert. He wasn’t quite sure, the drugs or dream were blocking his memory.

He turned back to face the other direction and watched a long line of at least twenty logs piled up against a wall, each holding a naked man. It was quite bizarre, and Tyler suddenly felt self conscious about his nakedness. It was a strange sensation considering his propensity toward orgies, but something about this place felt wrong, and being naked within its walls seemed … dirty.

One of the men a few logs down was turned towards Tyler, and he recognized the face of the young Pretal he’d been traveling with. He couldn’t remember the man’s name, but he clearly recognized his face. He was bound to the log same as Tyler, and his clothing had also been removed. The young man appeared unconscious, but his face held a serene smile while his body belied sexual readiness.

In fact, most of the men were the same as the young Pretal—naked, unconscious, and ready for sex. It was a wicked sight, and Tyler tried to force himself awake. This nightmare was way too real, and he desperately wanted to wake before things got worse.

He heard voices nearing him, and he arched back in time to make out what they said.

“… and make sure they are tightly bound before you administer it, they may find sudden strength and try to break free.”

It was the woman he’d seen and she resembled the Vereen exactly. What was she doing, what was this place? Was this real or not? He decided to take action.

“Vereen,” he yelled, “it is me, Samil!”

The Vereen and the masked person turned towards Tyler’s voice. She whispered something to the masked person who shot away to carry out whatever directions she had given.

As though locked in indecision, the Vereen stayed where she was and stared at Tyler. He wondered if she were going to come to him or simply walk away, but she finally walked over with her slow and sensual pace. She stopped behind him, forcing him to strain his neck to see her.

“Vereen, what is this place, what is happening?” He asked in a casual tone, excitement not necessary inside his dream.

She stared down at him, a look on her face that seemed like … was it loathing? Tyler was confused.

The Vereen grabbed his shoulders and pulled him towards her, rotating the log so he faced the opposite direction. He stared into her eyes and noticed his body responded to her touch. Even in his dreams, this woman possessed a mysterious power.

“Hello, Samil.” She almost spat the words. “Where do you think we are?”

Tyler was taking aback by the question. Didn’t she know where they were? He certainly didn’t, and said as much. He admitted that he’d been there many times in his dreams, and this dream was no different except that she was here.

The Vereen smiled slightly at his admission, and squatted next to him to get close to his face. “So you believe this is another one of your nightmares?”

She said it so smoothly and so sensually, Tyler felt his body strain against the bonds, desire overcoming the unusual circumstances of his situation.

Noticing his obvious interest, she moved to the side so he could see the latest pyre they’d built. She cradled his head in her hands and the smell of her so close drove him mad with desire.

“Is it a nightmare you’re in, Samil, or is it a dream? Maybe a fantasy you want fulfilled?”

She moved her hand from his head and stroked his chest, teasing him as she moved it downward. He throbbed in response, the mere touch sending sensations tingling through his body. She was playing with him, and Tyler was powerless to stop it. He wanted her, and everything else in the room, the pyres, the naked men, and the strange colored masks would not stand between him and that desire.

She pointed toward the latest pyre, and Tyler watched as the naked men were mounted by the women he’d seen earlier. Each woman straddled one of the men moving to some unseen music. They were making love to the enraptured males who were lost in the euphoria of the sexual congress.

“See how he writhes in pleasure as she brings him to the ultimate place in the Universe.” Her voice carried malice within its sensual tones. “He cares not for his god, Samil … not even his life, for he has tasted the forbidden fruit and he will never again be the same.”

Tyler was mesmerized by the obscene as women rode the poor men in a sexual rodeo from which he could not tear away. The men moved in response, rhythmically matching the woman’s pulsing speed. They were lost to the pleasure, and none was concerned they were strapped to a pyre which Tyler was certain would be ignited in flame after the orgy ended.

“Is that what you want, Samil? Do you want me to straddle you and let you enter me to satisfy your lust? You’ve tasted the forbidden fruit countless times, you already know the intense pleasures that you can find there. Do you want to do that once more, Samil? Do you need to escape to your lost loves … Toosia perhaps? Or Linda?”

Visions of both sprang into his mind and he found he could not resist the absurd offer. He wanted to escape. He wanted to make love with the Vereen, with Toosia, and with Linda one last time.

The Vereen sensed his willingness and she began to stroke him gently. He arched in pleasure as her hands found the proper rhythm to entice his body. She stopped and stared into his eyes, an evil glint shining through the smile that enthralled him.

“Would you do anything for it, Samil?” She whispered.

Tyler nodded as his body tried to stretch the bonds pinning him.

“Would you kill for it, Samil?”

Her voice, like silk, ran through and across his body, and he swelled in response as he once more nodded.

Barely audible now, she whispered. “Would you die for it, Samil?”

He knew the question was outrageous, but he could not stop himself from answering. “Yes, I would die for it.”

The Vereen smiled and stood as the masked person she’d sent off returned with a perneem pipe. The person deftly filled it from two small containers held in the other hand, and Tyler felt a sudden pang as his addiction responded to the presence of the narcotic.

The Vereen shook her head to the masked person before turning to stare at Tyler. “Then you shall have it, Samil—I will give you what you desire.”

The Vereen walked away as the masked person knelt beside him to help him partake of the exotic drug. The person placed the containers inside a pocket and withdrew a small device Tyler had never seen before. It was two glass tubes containing liquid substances. The tubes had a wick suspended in each, but both wicks met at the top to form a single one inside a glass cap.

The person removed the glass cap, and the wick instantly lit in a tiny flame. Tyler was impressed, it was a chemical lighter—this primitive planet had invented a lighter. He smiled briefly at the banned technology. Like everything else with the Vereen, it was counter to the culture of the planet.

The person placed the pipe in his mouth and brought the flame up to it as he drew in the strong smoke of his addiction. He felt instant warmth spread through him, and his body throbbed with renewed sexual interest. He hit the pipe several more times before laying his head back to enjoy its effects.

The room grew hazy as his mind drifted on the perneem dream. He watched the pyre of men lit from underneath, the Pretals oblivious to their peril. They lay flaccid, the sexual exertions bringing them to the intense climax that left them helplessly in bliss.

Tyler could already smell their flesh as the flames began to lick their sides. The flames were hypnotic and danced to a mysterious music Tyler had never heard before. Was someone playing a flute? It was the same sound he’d heard in his dream so long ago. Was the Indian playing his flute around a tribal fire?

The room pulsated with red, and the walls and floor moved in waves sending pleasure through his body. The person in the mask disrobed and Tyler was pleased to see a woman’s naked body underneath. Without removing her mask, she straddled him like the men on the pyre. He readily responded to her touch, and entered her body as he arched with pleasure unlike any he’d experienced so far.

He moved to the secret rhythm of the flute now intertwined with the screams of the men burning in the thick flames. He ignored their cries, wanting more. He opened his eyes to the masked person moving and swaying to the sounds echoing off the cavernous walls.

The colors in the mask blurred with colors swirling through the air. Visions of Joriss, Toosia, or Linda drifted in and out of view, and with them, an intense pleasure lifted him higher towards the faces of those lost loved ones.

In the back of his mind, he knew he would be thrown into the fire, burned like the other men, his screams bouncing off the great walls. But he didn’t care, he wanted the climax and nothing would stop him from reaching it. He would die for this. He wanted to die for this.

He felt the climax building but held off, enjoying the pleasure as long as he could. The face above him was now Joriss’s, and he thought he detected tears in her eyes. Was she crying? Did she not feel the intense pleasure he did? What was the problem?

He closed his eyes, her tears taking away from the pleasure he experienced. But his mind would not let him turn away from the crying of a loved one. He opened them again and saw more tears streaming down her face, this time the face of Toosia.

Concerned, he held back no longer and released his pleasure into the sobbing body, arching with intensity as the person grabbed hold and pressed against him tighter. Wave after wave of pleasure ran through his exhausted body, and still they held on until he was spent.

Barely conscious, he fell limp against the log, pain running through his arms from the constriction during climax. He tried to speak, but his voice failed in weakness.

The body on top held tight and cried into his shoulder. He wanted to comfort them, hold them tight and tell them it was okay, but his arms were tied and he could not move within the bonds. He felt them kiss his cheek lightly, and he heard Joriss’s voice whisper into his ear.

“I will not let them kill you, Samil—I will not let them take you away from me.”

Tyler couldn’t respond. He thought about the other men whose screams had been cut short by the now dying flames that had consumed them. That would be his fate. As in all his nightmares, he would be killed either in flames or by the saythers that would soon appear. What did he care, the pleasure had been worth it.

He tried to respond. “Wh ...” It was all that came out of his mouth. At least he thought he had said it. She needed to move on, why did she want to stop the inevitable? He opened his mouth once more. “Drea … mmm.”

She moved off him and quickly removed his bonds, lowering him to the floor gently. It felt good to have his limbs free, and he curled up beside her ready to fall into a deep sleep.

She shook him hard. “No, Samil, no this is not a dream … this is real!”

He heard the words, but ignored them. He knew this wasn’t real and that he would soon wake drenched in sweat, but alive.

She shook him harder trying to keep him from falling into oblivion. “Samil, did you hear me? This is real, they want to kill you just like all the other Pretals and Pretares they have killed. I can’t stop them—I can’t make the horror end.” She sobbed harder, and it brought Tyler back from unconsciousness.

Why did she keep crying, didn’t she know how the nightmares end? It was all right, he was accustomed to them. “Why?” he asked weakly.

He couldn’t finish the question, his strength too far gone. She misunderstood his response and started to recite a bunch of mumbo-jumbo he hadn’t wanted to hear.

“The Vereen, she is the one responsible. She claims that if we take away the religion, then their god will not return. Then Perneer can be raised from the dead and the planet will enjoy the pleasures that only they can provide. She is mad, Samil … truly mad.” She cried into his chest and he tried to move his arms to console her, but was unable to pick them up. “She wants the planet to worship us, Samil … to be our … slaves.”

Slaves? Weren’t they already their slaves? What was wrong with that? He was willing, especially after the pleasure he’d just experienced. He was already building strength for more. Besides, this was not real, this was a dream, a dream he would wake from and never see Joriss again.

He smiled weakly at her. “Love … you.”

She stopped at this admission, a look of pain contorting her face. “No, Samil … no.” She broke down, crying uncontrollably, her body drenching Tyler’s cold, naked flesh.

“I will not let them kill you, Samil—I must stop this madness—I must find a way!”

He knew the women would not kill him. It was those damn saythers that would do it. He kept expecting them to appear and rip him to shreds before throwing his remnants into the hypnotic flames. She was obviously confused about how this nightmare would go. She should know, she’d been in enough of them. He had to tell her, but his strength had not yet returned.

“Saythers …” It was all that came out, but he hoped it was enough for her to figure out. They would be here soon and the nightmare would end. He hoped she realized that.

She sat up and looked in his eyes. “Saythers?”

Tyler nodded.

“What about the saythers, Samil? How can they help?”

What was she talking about help? They were the ones who would kill him. He couldn’t respond to her questions though he tried with what little strength remained.

“Kill” was all that came out.

“Of course,” she agreed in response, “they work for Gamel, they must surely be able to help.”

Now Tyler was certain she did not follow his train of thought. She was talking about Gamel and saythers helping them. Didn’t she know what those awful creatures do? Tyler wanted to help her, but he gave up, ready to die and wake from the nightmare. She would figure it out soon enough.

Joriss moved from Tyler’s side and he felt the coolness of the room send shivers down his spine. He spotted a ragged cloak beneath the log he’d been bound to and pulled it around his freezing body. Joriss faced the flames kneeling in prayer. She raised her head high to the ceiling and chanted in the ancient language only religious priests of this world understood. How had she learned that?

She continued to chant and Tyler listened to the words as his mind lazily translated.

“… please send your ruun dwoers to help us Gamel. I beseech you to save your followers from the evil that has once again inhabited this vile place. I know that I, too, am responsible for this tragedy and I do not deserve an answer to my prayers, but please, they are innocent and must be spared. Send your ruun dwoers to help us, Lord, please.”

Tyler couldn’t believe what she was saying. Not only was she praying to Gamel, she was asking him to send saythers. Spare the innocent? Who in here was really innocent? The Pretals? The Pretares? He supposed they were devout followers, but would Gamel really save them from this sinful destruction?

Tyler quickly caught himself. He was getting caught up in the dream. This wasn’t real! This was his imagination run amok. He sat back against the log and waited for the saythers to materialize out of the darkness. He waited to see if her pleas would finally bring the vile creatures and end his nightmare.

Tyler spotted the Vereen pointing at Joriss, yelling to others to respond in some fashion. Would they stop her from summoning the saythers? He became excited despite the obvious end he knew was coming.

Several people broke away from the pyres and ran toward Joriss as she continued to pray in the ancient tongue. They stopped short as they neared, listening to the strange language she was speaking. They’d never heard the ancient language spoken by one of their own and they were mystified by the sounds.

They stood indecisively, but Joriss ignored their presence as she continued to chant. Tyler heard the Vereen screaming in the background, telling them to bound her and shut her up. They stared back at their leader, still uncertain what to do. Tyler smiled at the quandary before them. He knew the saythers would appear and all would be lost in a gruesome display of vicious savagery. The saythers would rend them into tiny pieces and build a great fire to their god. He’d seen this nightmare often enough to know how it would end.

He watched patiently, a strange and twisted laugh breaking through his lips. He knew the horror would come and he found it oddly funny. Was he becoming used to these nightmares? He’d seen plenty horror as an Onyalum, so it did not surprise him they haunted his dreams.

Was that a clicking he’d just heard? Everyone else heard it too, for they stopped dead and stared across the room to what must have been one of the entrances.

The masked women near Joriss spun around at the sound, backing slightly as they searched for the mysterious intruders.

There it was again, this time it sounded like a hundred claws raking the floor. Tyler smiled as he imagined the looks on their faces when the dark, penetrating, red eyes appeared through the firelight.

Dark misty clouds descended from the ceiling, spiraling as they fell to the floor. As they hit the ground, they materialized into a large sayther, teeth bared and claws scratching an ominous sound on the cold rock surface. Like rain from hell, the dark mists drifted down, springing up new saythers as they touched the floor.

The masked figures backed away from the horror before them, screams emanating from their frozen throats as they realized what was happening.

Joriss ignored the saythers and continued her haunting chant, apparently lost in a world of her own. Tyler was fascinated. He’d never seen the saythers appear from a dark mist before. To his drug induced mind, it was cool, like dark angels sent from god above. Maybe they were—Joriss had certainly prayed for it.

He knew the ensuing chaos would be painful, but at least he would finally wake from it. As more saythers fell from the sky, those on the ground approached the terrified women who backed against the wall without an escape.

Tyler sensed they were poised to strike and he braced himself for the inevitable bloodshed. As if on cue, the dark creatures moved swift as lightning towards the huddled women. Even the Vereen backed against the wall as her plans to dominate this world were ripped from her grasp in an awful moment of truth.

The saythers were relentless, and Tyler watched the bodies spraying blood across the walls and floor of the great room. Screams and pleas echoed across the great hall until they were cut short by a sayther’s bloody claws. It was horrifying to watch, but Tyler could not pull his eyes away from the nightmare he’d seen over and over again.

He waited patiently for his eventual death by claws. Joriss continued praying, oblivious to the events unfolding around her. Perhaps she’d resigned herself to her fate, and simply waited like him.

After some time, the screams and pleas fell silent as the room ran red from the bloody violence. Tyler was confused. He, Joriss, and the other religious men were left untouched, spared as Joriss had requested.

He watched as most of the saythers left the way they’d come, materializing into a dark mist, rising into the darkness overhead. Some stayed behind and began to release the men tied to logs. The men still slept in their drug induced trance as blood from the terrible slaughter dripped from the saythers fangs onto their exposed skin. Most still wore smiles as they dreamed of earthly pleasures they’d not received. None had witnessed the dreadful events within the walls of the ancient city.

A sayther moved towards Joriss and Tyler, and Tyler was certain this would be the end to his nightmare. It stopped in front of Joriss who ceased chanting and stared into the menacing red eyes of her executioner. Tyler waited for the ripping claws, but the sayther stood quietly staring between the two of them.

Finally, the sayther raised its hand above Joriss and a white light descended to envelope her. Tyler couldn’t believe it, Joriss would be spared. As she began to fall back from the light, the sayther spoke to her in the ancient language. “Gamel has heard your prayer.”

She lay unconscious, but unharmed. The sayther turned to Tyler and moved to his side. The sound of its claws on the floor made Tyler flinch each time they raked against the cold stone. Finally, his nightmare would end, claws ripping through his flesh.

But the sayther stopped, raising its hand high above his head. He waited for the death swipe that would end it, but a white light descended to envelope him. As it washed over him, he felt calm and content. As he faded from consciousness, he heard the sayther speak to him. “Gamel wants you.”

* * * *

Tyler woke refreshed, yet disturbed. He was back at the campsite outside Perneer, but the dream, or had it been a dream, was still fresh in his mind. Twisted images of smoky saythers filled him with trepidation. The images had been gruesome, and Tyler struggled to shake the feeling it had been more than a drug induced nightmare.

Early morning darkness broke with a red glow emanating from beyond the great walls of the ancient city. The deep purples to the west signaled night was fading. Tyler shook sand from his cloak, and as he did so, noticed several rips in his garment. Even more disturbing was the dark stain he couldn’t identify.

He grew uneasy as he scanned the camp site to tally the number of Pretals still sleeping. In the dim light, he counted only seven bodies, and each looked as though they’d been pulled along the ground for long distances. Tyler looked at the looming walls of the ancient city and shuddered. Had it been real? Had the Vereen been trying to destroy the followers of Gamel to replace them with her enslaved followers?

Samil had been one of those enslaved followers. Would he have followed her in this madness? Would he have died for that one last taste of pleasure his addicted mind craved? He dimly recalled the answers he’d provided. He had willingly given himself to them, to burn in their fires while lost in the sinful bliss of sexual exploits. He felt more than shame—he felt a deep remorse for his failings. Even now, he knew he would gladly do it all over again.

One of the bodies stirred, and Tyler heard a groan that was too high pitched for a Pretal. He hurried to their side to help. The face was covered with dried blood, and sand stuck to the sticky remnants. He wiped away the mess as best he could and found a smiling, but saddened Joriss. Realization struck him hard. It must have been real, why else would Joriss be there?

“Are you injured?” He asked, gently smoothing her clothes and brushing away the remaining sand.

She wore nothing but a simple robe, and he wrapped it tight around her against the early morning chill. He kissed her lightly and helped her stand.

“Thank you, Samil … I … I am so sorry!”

She broke into tears from the realization of what had happened. Tyler hugged her and murmured reassurances. He knew it wouldn’t be all right, but she needed something to ease the pain.

She’d been the one who had called down the saythers to destroy her fellow sisters. She probably felt regret at being involved with their evil plot and then causing their bloody deaths at the hands of the saythers.

Tyler swore under his breath at the god that would let this happen. After everything his followers had been through, what kind of Creator allowed them to be destroyed at the hands of those who would deny him? He could not imagine Thosolan allowing it, though in the back of his mind, he remembered Thosolan telling him about times when he’d been angry with his own creations.

Joriss’s sobbing subsided, and she pulled away from his embrace.

“I’m all right, Samil, thank you.” She found a nearby rock and hugged herself against the cold light growing over the city.

Tyler was speechless, so he left her alone. He moved around the camp and woke the remaining Pretals partially dressed and delirious from the lingering effects of narcotics. All six were in good health, and Tyler was relieved to see Minish was still alive. He also found Seram who looked none the worse for wear. Still, too many had perished.

As they rose from their slumber, they were instantly confused by the severe reduction in their numbers. Tyler ignored their probing questions and urged them to clean up while he started a fire. A few protested and looked to Minish for leadership, but Minish, just as confused, sided with Tyler and urged them to wash up.

Once Tyler had the fire going, the Pretals moved close to its warmth. When Joriss joined the party, many of the Pretals stared dumbstruck at a woman in their midst. What was a woman doing at their camp on this holy journey? Did she have something to do with their missing comrades?

She moved into the opening provided, and Seram moved next to her and wrapped his arms around her against the cold. Tyler was pleased Seram had survived, he supposed it was the memories of Samil that still held affection for the young man. Watching him with Joriss, Tyler saw age in the young man’s creased face. Between the trial, their journey, and now their loss, Seram had aged far beyond his years. Life on Gamel had a way of doing that.

It was clear Seram held genuine concern for Joriss so perhaps they would unite through this crisis. At this point, Tyler would be happy if Joriss found anything besides the pain she’d endured. She, too, wore more years than her age. This world was simply cruel.

The Pretals warmed themselves as they tried to piece together the events that had brought them to their current state. Tyler motioned Minish off to the side.

“What do you remember, Minish?” Tyler asked quietly.

Minish looked deep in thought as though chasing some elusive memory he couldn’t grasp. “I … uh … I’m not certain, but large fires come to mind.” He shook his head as though trying to loosen the memories clinging to his drug dulled mind. “I think I remember dancing, or chanting, or something. I’m not sure.”

Tyler saw pain as Minish tried to revive memories of the devastation that decimated their numbers. “It’s okay old friend, I can fill you in. What is the last clear thing you remember?”

That sparked Minish as his mind readily recalled the events leading up to their kidnapping. “Oh, well, I remember we had finished our fellowship and prayer before retiring for the evening.” He shook his head. “I remember preparing for sleep when I felt a burning on my neck.” He absently moved his hand back to that distant bite. “It was the oddest thing, and I remember thinking I wasn’t aware of any insects that would do that.”

“Yeah, I felt the same thing.” Tyler remembered being outside the entrance when he’d felt the sting that knocked him out.

“But you weren’t here when I felt it.” Minish accused him, with a sudden look of anger.

“No, I was not here,” Tyler conceded, “but I felt the sting when I followed you to the entrance of the city.”

Minish looked confused. Tyler knew the thought of entering the forbidden city was sacrilege to the religious leader. “What do you mean when you followed us? We would never enter that evil city! Would we?”

Tyler realized Minish had only vague images from the activities that had threatened his life. Tyler wanted to fill in the pieces, but dreaded admitting Joriss’s role in the affair. He had no idea how the men would react, but he knew forgiveness would not come easily.

In the end, he spent twenty minutes describing what he remembered of the horrible night. Considering the violence that had been unleashed, Tyler thought Minish took it pretty well. More than once, he’d shot Joriss an awful stare, but finally, his face softened as Tyler recounted her life. He hoped Minish’s faith would help ease anger towards her. She needed support, and Tyler wasn’t going to allow these men to force her away as her village had.

Tyler asked Minish whether they should tell everything to the Pretals. Minish was initially confused, and Tyler knew he wasn’t relishing sharing the truth. Ultimately, his faith and refusal to be deceitful won out.

“Yes,” Minish agreed, “they deserve to know the truth, no matter how unpleasant.”

“And Joriss?” Tyler asked tentatively.

Minish looked back at her in the now bright daylight. “We’ll not harm her if that is your fear. After all, we apparently owe her our lives. What is your relationship with this woman?”

Tyler noticed Minish waited patiently for him to reveal something Tyler didn’t want to admit. “I am like her father, Minish. I found her when she had been forced to leave her village.”

“You must have a great compassion to take someone in after their Pretal saw fit to reject them.” Minish accused.

“No, I do not have a great compassion, Minish, surely you know that as much as anyone. However, I am not so quick to judge others until I have judged myself.” Tyler felt anger towards the man, but realized he was simply following what the religious tenets dictated.

Fortunately, Minish accepted his statement. “Well said, Samil, well said.”

They returned to the fire and Tyler recounted the horrors to all the men as Joriss cried and buried her head in Seram’s chest. The men were stoic, but Tyler saw anger in some of their eyes. Much of the anger was for the charred remains of the purveyors of this despicable act, but some they reserved for Joriss.

Minish jumped to her rescue. “Joriss is welcome to join what is left of our band. She will not come to any harm under ‘our’ protection.”

A few of the Pretals were ready to protest until Seram spoke out. “She is god’s chosen. I saw it while on my trial.” Everyone fell silent at this unveiling.

Minish responded, surprised. “You know this girl?” He shot a look at Tyler that asked ‘did they have an affair?’.

“Yes … I mean no.” Seram was struggling how best to tell the story.

“I did not know her before my Trial.” He admitted. “However, while I was enraptured in god’s spirit, he told me of her and how she would help save our world. I didn’t know who she was or how she would save our world, but if my god said it was so, who was I to question?”

One of the other Pretals interrupted Seram. “You had a vision from Gamel on your Trial?”

Seram looked annoyed, but answered the young man. “Yes, Semli, I had a vision. I saw this woman in that vision and was told she would help us. I, for one, will not allow her to come to any harm while I am alive.”

The force he put into his words surprised even Tyler. Did he actually have feelings for her, or was his protective nature an offshoot of his religious beliefs? Tyler wasn’t certain what the motivation was, but he was happy someone else would help protect her, even if it was Seram. Perhaps Seram thought Gamel would reward anyone who guarded his chosen one. Whatever the reason, it looked as though Joriss was safe for the moment.

Minish took charge. “No one shall harm her while we are all alive.”

“Will she join us on our journey?” A young Pretal asked without malice.

Another jumped in quickly. “You mean we are still going to Malane?”

Chaotic conversations broke out as they debated whether their journey should continue after the horrors they’d survived. Minish tried to rein in the small group, but they were too wound up to back down.

Finally, Tyler whistled loudly to stop the unproductive arguing. Everyone turned towards the unnerving sound. No one had heard whistling before, and Tyler hadn’t even been sure he’d be able to do it. But it came out loud and commanding.

“We will continue the journey, with Joriss, and you will all meet your god as foretold in the Holy Texts.” Tyler didn’t necessarily believe it, but he had to bring them back to their faith if they were to get past this. “If Gamel did not want you to join him in Malane, then you would be nothing more than a pile of ash right now. His chosen one saved you so that you can meet him and bring paradise to this world!”

It was easy to pull out a little of the Admiral when he spoke to groups of people. The Admiral had been a commanding presence and always got people to respond when all else failed.

Tyler noted Minish and Seram looked at him with something akin to incredulity. Seram knew Tyler’s weaknesses well enough, and Tyler assumed Minish had his own doubts if not confirmed privately by Seram.

Tyler didn’t care. They’d started this damned journey and they would finish it. He didn’t care if it was to meet Gamel or find out that their Holy City died long ago. Either way, they would find out the truth and he would be there to witness it.

Minish snapped out of his malaise and barked orders to the men. They would break camp and start the final leg of their journey after prayers for their fallen comrades.

Tyler sat hard on a rock, tired as Samil’s body protested the dark night’s events. He rubbed absently at his shoulders, sore from being bound to a log. Though he tried to resist, the pain brought back the pleasurable memories of he and Joriss. He knew it had been the last time they would be together, but he still longed for the opportunity.

Did he really love her, or was it lust? He wasn’t certain anymore, but he knew his addicted body would crave her long after she was out of his life. Like Linda and Toosia, Joriss would become an integral part of his memories, and he would carry her for as long as he existed in the Universe.

Damned

The remaining journey was uneventful though taxing. The physical and mental toll of their ordeal stole what strength they’d had left, and the non-stop climb to altitude pressed everyone to their limits. Faith or no faith, it was a welcome sight when they crested the final pass and looked down upon the Holy City of Malane.

Tyler never imagined such a city could exist outside of fantasies or movies. It was situated in a flat valley that stretched for miles in all directions. To Tyler, it looked like Shangri La, hidden amid lush mountains, protected from the harshness of their planet. Across the valley, hundreds of buildings spread out in random patterns, each a dark ruddy color with deep blue tiled roofs. Some stood several stories tall, while others were small and closely clustered. In the center of it all, towering buildings stood in stark contrast to the idyllic backdrop—clearly this was the seat of power.

Nestled between the towering buildings, one grand facade stood out from the others as sunlight danced off a golden domed roof. To Tyler, it looked like the perfect home for a god. Surely this was the temple where Gamel had sat in power. No one from the desert held memories of this great city, so he had no idea what any of the buildings actually were. The domed one looked like a temple, but maybe it was their library where all the Holy Texts reside. Regardless, Tyler couldn’t wait to explore this mystical city.

Scattered throughout the valley, large fields and gardens overflowed with abundance. Except for Tyler, it was more than anyone in their group had ever seen. Clearly the inhabitants of Malane did not suffer during the thousands of years without their god. They had a well established agrarian society, and within the moist climate of the mountains, they yielded ample sustenance. Tyler looked down at his meager packet of food and hoped they would enjoy a glorious feast instead of the dried remnants from their desert existence.

Minish was so moved by the vista, he had them all kneel in prayer as tears ran down his cheeks. The journey was over—they had survived to see the return of their god. They lost much along the way, but seeing paradise spread below them was confirmation their journey had not been in vain. Even Joriss knelt in prayer despite the act being a distant memory from her childhood. Tyler heard her whispering in the ancient language as she said her own prayer against the backdrop of Minish’s soft voice.

Tyler did not pray for their god to return, but prayed they could finally stop and relax, if only for a while. The journey had been difficult, and their losses large. The sight of the distant city brought relief from the harshness plaguing him since arriving on Gamel. He wanted peace and a chance to escape into the addiction burning his soul. He still had plenty to consume and he intended on losing himself to whatever pleasures the great city had to offer.

They rose from prayers and began the gentle, but long walk down the mountainside to the paradise below. Animated discussions rang through the lush landscape as realization of their god’s return sank in. Malane was a real city and it lent credence to their god’s promise. Surely they would see him return, and surely he would bless them with the same abundance he’d treated the patrons below. Surely their hardships were nearing an end.

Tyler grinned. How would they react if Gamel did not return? Would they go back to the harsh life in the desert after seeing the riches of Malane? Would they willingly observe the ban on forest produce, or would they rebel and take that which was forbidden? The saythers were a concern, but how long could they hold an angry people at bay?

Tyler didn’t know what would happen. Thosolan taught him gods were unpredictable. Assuming the Holy Texts were true, Gamel was not necessarily a forgiving god, so how would he treat them upon his return? Had he forgotten about this world? With so many civilizations inside a galaxy, could he uphold promises to each and every one?

Tyler had doubts. He believed it more likely the planet simply evolved into its current state with no hand of god involved. Regardless, it would be an historic event that Tyler didn’t want to miss. Perhaps he would finally learn the truth about the saythers and that unusual path that never changed. After everything they’d experienced, he was ready to learn the secrets of this strange world.

It took several hours before they emerged from beneath the forest canopy. The dirt path they followed suddenly turning into a roadway paved with polished stones. It was the first real sign of civilization Tyler had seen on this world. As the path wound its way down the gentle slope, it passed beneath a large archway constructed of field stones. Carved in relief along the top of the arch, a wooden plank written in the ancient text welcomed them to Malane: “Be humble before your God, and He will bless you with abundance”.

Looking at the green fields around them, it was apparent the people of Malane were humble before their god.

Minish stopped and looked at each in turn. “These are sound words to live by. Our moment has finally come, let us not spoil it with behavior that does not befit our God. As representatives of our villages, we must show them our people are worthy of Gamel’s blessings.”

The Pretals nodded in agreement, a look of excitement overcoming the somber advice of their leader. Minish knew they would not be satisfied until they walked through the streets of their Holy City, so he turned to lead them through the arch. As they passed beneath the words of wisdom, they spotted a lone figure walking up the road to greet them.

The person wore the same ruddy colored robes as their group, but Tyler could immediately see the quality was far superior to the rough cloth they wore. The distant figure’s robe shimmered in the sunlight, and around the edges, an intricate dark blue trim was added. As the person approached, Tyler saw the face of a young man near Seram’s age. He stopped in front of Minish with a broad smile and deep bow.

“Nea hiss framine.” The young man said casually in the tongue of the ancients. It caught everyone by surprise, though each was well versed in the ancient language.

Tyler easily translated the greeting, ‘Welcome my brothers’. Even Joriss was apparently adept at understanding the ancient tongue, though how remained a mystery. The trial in the desert clearly changed her, but learning another language seemed implausible. It was just one more mystery of this strange world.

Minish returned the ancient greeting, though his version was heavily accented compared to the young man’s.

“I am Pretare Minish and these are what remain of my Pretals.”

Everyone except Joriss bowed to the young man.

“I see.” The young man said placidly. “I am Pretare Fris, and I will be your guide into Malane. Grand Pretarch Nerun has been awaiting your arrival.” He looked at each of the men in their group before his eyes stopped on Joriss. “Welcome sister, we are not accustomed to receiving females, are you a Pretal as well?”

Joriss hugged her tattered robes nervously, clearly not comfortable being singled out of the group. “No,” she replied timidly in the ancient tongue, “I am not a Pretal.”

The young man considered her answer for a moment before responding. “I see. Well, your arrival is just as unusual as your understanding of our tongue. Nonetheless, we are all Gamel’s children, so welcome to Malane.”

Joriss nodded in acknowledgement, clearly worried they might not let her enter the Holy City. After everything that had happened, he imagined she was stunned by the vision of glorious Malane.

Minish jumped into the awkward silence. “We owe Joriss our lives, and in return, we brought her to meet Gamel.”

Fris looked surprised by the explanation, but smiled anyway. “Then by all means, let her join us in His glorious city.”

The young Pretare signaled them to follow him toward the distant buildings. Tyler was relieved they’d opened their gates to Joriss. He wondered if they’d have been so accommodating if they knew her past. As they moved down the ancient roadway, Tyler was once again struck by the thought of Dorothy and the Wizard of Oz. Were they going to meet the wizard, and if so, would he welcome them with open arms? They would soon find out.

* * * *

On the outskirts of the great city, the Pretals were ushered into a building to bathe and change into fresh clothes. Considering the damage Tyler’s robes had sustained in Perneer, he was happy for the change. Joriss was reluctantly separated from the men, but Fris assured her she would rejoin them after being bathed and provided new clothing as well.

The men were surprised when several young women urged Joriss to follow them into another building. The women were dressed elegantly in flowing silken robes of rainbow colors decorated with ornate pins and necklaces. In their hair, small webs of gold decorated with tiny jewels created a halo effect. In the bright daylight, the colors reflecting from the jewels made them appear angelic. It was in stark contrast to the drab existence on the desert floor.

Tyler always imagined Malane as a city of holy men, like a monastery. However, as he thought about that illusion, he realized the city would never survive without women to reproduce. There was nothing to disallow holy men from marrying. In fact, it was encouraged after a Pretal completed the Trial of Gesh. He thought about Seram and wondered if he was planning to marry Joriss. Curious still, would Joriss agree?

They entered the building that Tyler immediately recognized as a communal bath. Throughout the interior, sweet smells of incense and blossoms assaulted their naive senses. Nothing in their village could compare to the riches around them, and the moist air was a welcome relief from the arid desert.

They were ushered into a private room where young attendants helped them out of their clothing and directed them into a large, warm pool. After so long, Tyler felt miles melt from his bones as he submerged in the hot mineral bath. He was the first to enter as the other men were alarmed by so much water used to clean one’s self.

Tyler drifted atop the surface, his eyes closed and mind open to the relaxation he’d waited so long to enjoy. He didn’t care if anyone partook in the pleasure, he would cherish the moment like never before. Since arriving on Gamel, only the cavern had provided any comfort or pleasures. Despite that obvious decadence, relaxation was not a commodity they’d sold.

Massages, hot baths, and simple relaxation were not options inside the den of inequity. They’d offered the sensuous release from a drab existence through carnal acts of flesh. Though Tyler yearned for those diversions, the simple act of bathing was nearly as exquisite. He pushed the sexual thoughts aside as his addiction surfaced, threatening to reveal itself inappropriately.

The warm water eased his tortured mind, and for now, his body. Sweet fruit and breads were brought with ample wine to tempt their palates. The other Pretals, still in a state of shock, stood stonily in the water, unsure how to respond to this unusual abundance. They shot accusatory looks at Tyler as he relished the opportunities before them.

“What is wrong with you?” Tyler asked calmly after sipping wine from a delicate chalice. “Have you never imagined what your god’s city would provide? You have suffered long enough, enjoy the bounty your god bestows upon you.”

They were confused, but Minish joined Tyler in a glass of the fine wine. Since leaving Poolto, Tyler hadn’t drunk wine. All the worlds he’d pillaged during his rampage did not make such a drink. They’d either possessed some form of ale made from grain, or other fermented drinks created from various greens. The wine of Malane was a sweet concoction made from a fruit similar to grapes. The taste was not unlike a fine Merlot with hints of vanilla and peppery spices. Tyler found it splendid even on Samil’s untrained palate.

Minish looked pleased as the wine smoothed the edges of his soul. He was near Samil’s age, and Tyler imagined he, too, felt the aches and pains such a journey inflicted on old bodies. Tyler was worn out, but Samil’s heart beat strong within the leaner body.

Eventually, the other men began to relish the experience, eating and drinking while bathing in exotic soaps and lotions which Tyler demonstrated. He hoped they would continue to enjoy these pleasures while in Malane, but he had his doubts. Of the hundreds of thousands of holy men that would arrive from around the world, Tyler didn’t imagine they’d all be put up in the city itself.

It didn’t matter. The journey was worth it to enjoy a bath and the feast before them. He sat in a lounge chair around the pool and sipped gently from his fourth glass of wine. The towels wrapped around him were warm and soft, and Tyler remembered a life long ago where these things were taken for granted. He was more relaxed than he could remember, and he imagined being inside the cavern completing this perfect picture of paradise. The aches of his addiction, though soothed, still commanded attention.

He hadn’t enjoyed perneem since that fateful night in the ancient city, and his body protested the absence. He thought about the Vereen and the women who had lost their lives in that bloody attack. Would their cavern survive? Would their cult rise again to provide the sinful pleasures that enslaved so many? If Gamel returned, perhaps the cult would finally be destroyed. Tyler felt certain anything that fed such pleasures could never be fully banished. There would always be sin, and there would always be sins of the flesh.

Thankfully, his clothing sat bundled on the floor near the entrance. He’d not yet removed his supplies despite new robes hanging on the wall. They were made from the same material as Fris’ robe, and Tyler looked forward to the smooth texture replacing the scratchy fabric they were accustomed to. The young attendants assured them they were in no hurry, but that they were invited to join their Grand Pretarch in a feast honoring their arrival.

Tyler wanted to gather his drugs and enjoy the pleasures they could bring, but he held off. Though his body ached for the release, he wanted to keep his head straight to meet the Grand Pretarch. What would the man be like? After Gesh, there must have been thousands of Grand Pretarchs leading this great city. It was an orderly civilization, so the Grand Pretarch was likely an efficient administrator as well as a spiritual leader.

He thought about Fris and his rank. He’d not seen any Pretals since arriving. Instead, the men either wore the blue trimmed robes of a Pretare, or the white trimmed robes Tyler assumed were Pretarchs. The ancient texts spoke about a Holy City filled with Pretarchs, the upper echelon of Gamel’s church. Were the young men of Malane first Pretares before becoming Pretarchs?

What about the Trial of Gesh? Did these young men go through something similar? He didn’t think so based on the smooth, youthful appearance of their skin. They carried the smooth faces of a youth that had not experienced the harshness of life in the desert.

The Pretals were dumbstruck by the youthful Pretares. It was not lost on them how healthy and fresh these young men looked. Tyler imagined they had similar questions running through their minds. How did these men acquire such vaulted ranks without the hardship Pretals endured?

They would learn more once they were immersed in the ancient city’s past. Tyler imagined most might not like what they found. It was one thing to suffer for your god, but to live with such bounty, how could you truly appreciate your god’s love?

Tyler reviewed the story of Gesh and realized it had been the Pretals and Pretares of the plains that had turned their back on Gamel, not the Pretarchs of Malane. If punishment had truly been dealt, then it was dealt only to those outside the Holy City.

* * * *

Once they completed their ablutions, several young Pretarchs took them into the main city where they rejoined Joriss. She was stunning in the colorful robes of Malane. Like the other women around her, she wore the intricate crown of gold webbing on her head. The effect was regal, and Tyler felt a pang of loss for the pleasures he would no longer enjoy.

Her transformation was not missed on the other Pretals, and since three of them, including Seram, were not yet married, Tyler imagined what thoughts ran through their minds. A clean bath, rich foods, and fabulous clothing could make any young man blush with the exuberance of youth, but a beautiful young woman would drive their fantasies to the edge of hypocrisy. Tyler was instantly jealous, but held back his feelings since he’d already tasted that forbidden fruit. Dream on boys, she’ll not be easily swayed!

Tyler sensed Joriss was uncomfortable in their current surroundings, and the added attentions of the men only made matters worse. Seram stepped up to ease her mind, but even he was rebuked as she stood stolidly on her own. Though Seram backed down, Tyler saw confusion and concern on his face as he moved back with the other men.

They’d been led into one of the buildings towering above the Holy Temple in the center of the city, and once inside, attendants led them into a large room replete with various tables set with elaborate silverware. Tyler was surprised when Joriss moved to his side and took his arm. She kissed his cheek lightly and whispered into his ears. “Thank you for saving my life, Samil.”

Tyler accepted her gratitude silently and led her into the great room. As the attendants waited patiently, each took a place at one end of a long table, moving from greatest rank and seniority down to the youngest. Joriss sat between Tyler and another older Pretal named Lamses. Tyler wasn’t familiar with the man, but knew he had a wife and a son back in their village. Tyler hoped it would make Joriss more comfortable. Across the table, Seram glowered silently. Clearly Joriss’s rebuke had stung, and once more, Tyler wondered what the young man’s intentions were.

The attendants brought trays of food, and a young Pretarch named Najeel assured them they should start eating as the Grand Pretarch would not join them until later. Despite the immense table and ornate room, Tyler was comfortable. It reminded him of the large table at Admiral Osloo’s Tooland estate on Poolto, and the remembrance brought back a wave of pain. He missed the luxurious lifestyle the Admiral had once enjoyed.

He served Joriss who looked less interested in food and more interested in the architecture and artwork surrounding them. Tyler had to admit, for a poor world, the inhabitants of Malane lived richly. The artwork was identical to the murals lining the walls of their village temples. It illustrated lush plains of a distant past, and even displayed paintings of ocean villages and the bounty they once provided.

For the young Pretals, the images were as confusing as those in their home temples. At least in Malane, they had a reference for what such abundance looked like. Were they all imagining a world as depicted in the murals, or were they afraid their god would not bless them? The look on Joriss’s face was dreamy and distant.

Tyler saw her dreaming about this new world and her lost love. What would her life have been like in that early, rich world of innocence? If Gamel returned, would she be blessed with a child? Could she raise her child in a world that did not know the suffering she’d been through? Tyler felt tears welling in his eyes as he thought about Linda and Toosia. It was all they had wanted, a family and a safe world to raise them in.

Tyler wiped his eyes as the pain threatened to overcome him. He yearned for those loves and the innocence they had enjoyed. It was a painful experience growing old, and Tyler still hoped wisdom might yet relieve him of the burdens he carried.

Under the table, he grabbed Joriss’s hand gently and squeezed.

“Is this a vision of the world Gamel will provide when he returns?” She asked as a tear ran down her check.

Tyler wasn’t sure how to answer the question, but was stopped as a voice answered from across the room.

“No, this is a vision of what once was. When he returns, it will be even better!”

The man that made his way across the floor to the end of their table looked slightly younger than Samil, but in far greater health. He had a warm, soft glow about him, welcoming all who looked upon him. He wore the simple robes of a Pretal, but Tyler spotted a large ring on one hand with an enormous jewel sparkling yellow in the room’s light.

“Sorry to interrupt your conversation,” he said gently in the ancient tongue, “I wanted to be here earlier, but was delayed by demands of the state. It is an unfortunate side effect of my position.”

The man sat down at the head of the table and smiled at each of them in turn. “My name is Grand Pretarch Nerun, but you can dispense with the formalities and simply call me Nerun.”

Everyone stared blankly at his disarming, rural charm that conflicted with their vision of what the highest religious leader on the planet should be like. Nerun began helping himself to food from the various platters and asked one of the Pretals to twice pass the pitcher of wine as the young man remained frozen by the unassuming head of their church.

Other than the ring, there were no indications of his vaulted position. Although his robes matched those of the lowly Pretal, he wore a small cap intricately sewn with gold designs indicating something more regal than a simple monk.

“Please, continue eating and talking, I do not wish to interrupt your conversations.” He ate casually as though this were normal.

One of the Pretals, too awestruck to speak, stuttered something to the effect he couldn’t believe he was eating with the Grand Pretarch of Gamel.

“Well, I, too, must eat young man, it is the nature of being alive.” He smiled once again. “I hear you had trouble on your journey? This, I must say, is far fewer than I expected.”

Minish finally found his voice. “Uh, well, yes, I uh … I mean we did have trouble Grand Pretar … I mean, Nerun.”

“I see. Do tell, we heard rumors of trouble in Perneer, but haven’t ventured to the desert in some time. I suppose we live a sheltered life in our lofted city, but do tell me what happened to all those who started the journey with you.”

Minish began haltingly, but eventually found a commanding voice to describe their journey to the calm and patient Grand Pretarch. Everyone finished eating by the time Minish completed the sad tale, and despite the troubling incident at Perneer, Nerun took it all calmly. Tyler wondered if he knew of the saythers. Surely he must have knowledge of those ancient beasts guarding the mountain forests.

Deep in thought, Nerun’s gaze drifted to Joriss. Tyler thought she would cry from his penetrating stare, but finally, he turned back to Minish.

“Of course we hear occasional bits and pieces from the ruun dwoers, but they keep much of what they know to themselves. They only divulge secrets to Gamel.”

Tyler was taken by his rather nonchalant manner with which he spoke about the saythers. This man actually conversed with those beasts, and they spoke with Gamel? What were they and what was their purpose? Were they spies for Gamel? Like angels, did they watch over the land and its people, reporting all to their Creator?

The look on the other men’s faces indicated they shared Tyler’s concerns. None could imagine conversing with such a beast.

Minish was clearly troubled by the comment. “You mean … you mean you talk with those beasts?”

“Well, talk is perhaps not the right word. It tends to be a one way conversation, where I listen to them.” Again, he said it matter-of-fact.

Some of the men looked about the room as though one of the beasts was going to jump out from behind the wall and consume them for dinner.

Nerun noticed their concern. “Don’t worry, there aren’t any here. They do not enter the city except through the temple. That is where we hear from them, inside Gamel’s temple. You are safe, if that is your worry.”

Tyler could no longer stand the mystery. “What are these creatures, really?”

Nerun gazed gently at Tyler, his face displaying confusion from the question. “Why they are the army of Gamel sent to protect us.”

Tyler couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Protect us?

“What do you mean protect?” He asked incredulous. “Didn’t you hear Minish and our tale of death along the path? It was the saythers who killed the women inside Perneer.”

“Saythers?” Nerun asked tentatively. “Oh, the ruun dwoers? Sorry, your language is still strange to us, nothing much changes here.” He paused as though formulating a proper response. “Well, yes, they are responsible for many deaths on our world, but they are only carrying out Gamel’s orders. My dear Joriss, it was you who summoned the Runn Dwoers to save these men.”

Joriss was uncomfortable with the comment and looked away. “I … I didn’t mean to.” She said sadly, hoping to draw the attention away from her.

Nerun didn’t back off. “Of course you did, my dear, you wanted to save your savior, Samil.” He swept his arms in Tyler’s direction.

Tyler looked suspiciously at Nerun. How much did this man know? “What do you mean her savior?” He asked coldly.

“Come, come, Samil, do not be distressed. We heard about your actions that saved her life when she undertook the Trial of Gesh. It was most noble. I believe Gamel is grateful you saved his chosen one. Clearly he has plans for you, or you would not have survived Perneer.”

Tyler found the words disturbing. How did they know? He had all but admitted they were isolated in Malane, but this admission conflicted with the information he shared with them. Tyler noted the other men shot glances his way with renewed interest, if not respect. They cast similar stares at Joriss probably trying to imagine why a woman would go through the Trial of Gesh—and survive.

“For being so isolated, you are very well informed, Nerun.” Minish spoke quietly, obviously wondering the same thing as Tyler. Where did this information come from?

“What kind of Grand Pretarch would I be if I did not know about the people of my world?” He smiled once again, disarming them both. “You see, it is my job to be informed.”

Once again, he said it matter-of-fact, but what caught Tyler’s attention was the fact that he did not say it in the language of the ancients. Instead, he had spoken in the language of the people of the desert.

It took a moment before the others at the table caught on. Who was this man and what powers did he possess? Tyler dug through Samil’s memories of the ancient texts, but he could find nothing indicating the Grand Pretarch held unusual powers. Still, that meant little after thousands of years.

“Well, I see you have much to learn about our great city, so I will bid you farewell … for now. Please enjoy the hospitality Gamel offers you, we are very pleased you have made it through your journey.”

He spoke their language so fluently, Tyler didn’t even detect an accent. They were stunned as Nerun left the room, leaving them with more questions than answers. What was this city and who was this charming man with such intimate knowledge?

Tyler thought back to Poolto and Nayllen Hooss. Unlike Nayllen, Nerun was pleasant to be around, but the scope of his knowledge and the way he chose to share it was eerily familiar. It, too, had been Nayllen Hooss’s job to be informed.

Tyler was uneasy.

* * * *

As Tyler had suspected, they would not stay within the city itself but on the outskirts in a large field with makeshift tents. Next to the field, Tyler noted a large amphitheater dug from the earth capable of holding thousands of people. This was clearly where the ancients had gathered when called upon by their god. He wondered if this was where they would meet Gamel when, or if, he returned. No one gave them a timetable for that event, but Tyler assumed they still waited for the remaining priests to arrive from around the world.

He’d estimated nearly twenty thousand people lived within the open field, and despite being filled with tents, it felt like an actual city. The colorful tents lent a carnival-like atmosphere to the affair, but Tyler didn’t feel like celebrating.

They’d been there for several weeks already, and Tyler was tired and bored with the arrangements. He shared a tent with three of the other Pretals from their group, but rarely spent time within it. Fortunately, the crowded area gave Tyler ample opportunities to partake in his daily habits, and he even met others who shared his addiction. While he was not willing to share his own supplies, he soon found he didn’t have to after another Pretal arrived with enormous quantities from the desert.

The young man, named Slimsa, claimed to have been addicted to the stuff at a young age when he found his father’s supplies hidden inside their village temple. Once he survived the Trial of Gesh and took over as village Pretal, he not only continued to use perneem, but actually produced it for the local cavern he regularly frequented.

His propensity toward the supply side of the drug trade made Tyler instantly bond with the young man, and he became a regular courier for Slimsa within the tent city. It gave Tyler an opportunity to move throughout the camp while receiving free supplies. He was amazed at the number of religious men addicted, although when he thought about it, he realized their desolate existence in the desert prepared them for such an escape.

Though he knew people from the villages were more likely to use it, priests were just as prone, maybe more so. They knew what the world had once been and what life they’d lost. This was difficult information to deal with and often made you feel as if that lost paradise would never return. He thought about the Vereen and realized the scope of the cult’s influence.

Tyler wondered how many groups had been caught in the Vereen’s web before the saythers destroyed their plans. Nerun clearly indicated he was surprised at how many of their group had not made it, but what about the others? If you believed the local attendants, there were other fields normally filled by the pilgrims, but they now stood empty. How many had been burned? They might never know.

Joriss was put up in a local house since she was the only female to make the journey. Although Tyler paid her regular visits, he never offered her the enjoyment of perneem. Seram continued to pursue Joriss, and Tyler even encouraged it. He knew she had changed fundamentally, and although she was frightened of this new world, he knew she needed to embrace the change and move on with her life. Still, he felt pangs of regret they would never be together, but this was soon replaced with a paternal bond where he truly wanted only the best for her. She deserved it.

Tyler enjoyed the steady highs his new career provided, but grew weary of the constant calls to prayer and fellowship within the tent city. He wanted to explore, to see more of this ancient city and its inhabitants, but there were always subtle roadblocks keeping them confined to the fields. It wasn’t outright aggression against them, but every time he tried to take a road somewhere else, a Pretare or Pretarch would engage him for help with food, supplies, or latrine duty. Tyler knew it would raise suspicions if he refused, so he always helped, and after a while, he gave up his quest to explore.

He was frustrated, and this sank him further into the perneem. Thankfully, the nightmares were gone, and in their place a dreamy paradise of sexual exploits filled his dreams with wanting and longing. But there was no release, and even self gratification was not enough to satisfy his desires. He needed to share the experience with someone as did the others who shared his addiction.

Homosexuality, though not unknown, was not common among perneem users, so females were needed to partake in their sinful orgies. But only the local population possessed females, and they were strictly off limits. Tyler agreed it was a wise decision keeping the young Pretals away from the temptations of the flesh, but he and the other users were nearing critical mass as desperation brewed trouble.

It was this quest that brought him to a rendezvous with Slimsa late one night. Tyler’s roommates had eyed him suspiciously as he dressed to leave, but they had become accustomed to his unusual wanderings at strange hours, so they simply rolled back to sleep.

Tyler walked quietly through the camp to the far side of the field where it joined with another, real field of rich grains. The bounty had not yet been harvested, so the plant stalks towered over his head as he walked along the boundary line. The camp was quiet and Tyler wondered how many of the regular users were joining him at this strange rendezvous. His own count figured at least a couple hundred users, but he doubted Slimsa would invite them all.

As he neared the corner of the field, he spotted several dark shapes waiting next to the thick crops. He approached quietly but was soon greeted by Slimsa, his close aid Meramses, and several other men Tyler didn’t know.

“Good, you are the last to arrive, Samil, we can depart.” Slimsa was eager and Tyler wondered what new experiences he had discovered.

Slimsa was a creative young man, and Tyler had no doubt he would find ways to get around the restrictions placed on them within the camp. Slimsa led them deep into the neighboring crop and whispered to stay close so as not to get lost. He urged them to try not to injure the plants so that their trail would not be obvious. Clearly he hoped to reuse this escape route. Tyler wondered why he hadn’t thought of the same thing.

Tyler was second to last and made sure he kept the dark robes ahead in front of him. The rich smell of the soil and plant life brought back memories of River Red and the jungles he’d once protected. Visions of those bloody battles ran through his mind as they made their way across the long field separating them from the civilization of Malane.

Where was Slimsa taking them? Had he found a tavern or some other house of ill repute? Could such a thing exist within a Holy City? With the abundance around them, and the perpetual youth of the populace, he wondered whether they, too, enjoyed the sinful pleasures as the people of the desert. It was logical, even the most devout were tempted.

As they finally emerged from the field, Tyler felt certain they’d descended slightly in altitude. Despite this, he could see the valley continue to slope away to the north. Slimsa cautioned them to remain silent as they still had some distance to travel. The men obeyed as they marched single file down the polished roadway to the secret destination.

They kept shifting onto smaller roads as they continually moved toward the mountains ringing the valley to the west. Were they going into the forest? Tyler thought about the saythers and grew apprehensive. What could be so important it was worth entering the forbidden forest? As they neared the towering trees of the jungle, Tyler was tempted to turn back and run. He’d had his fill of saythers and didn’t want to tempt fate anymore than he already had. But something kept him moving.

The polished road turned to dirt as they entered the dark trees. No light pierced the thick canopy, and they constantly bumped into each other as they fumbled their way along the darkened path. Finally, after colliding when Slimsa suddenly stopped, they were blinded when Slimsa lit a small lantern.

“We are far enough into the forest to use light from here on out.” Slimsa signaled them to follow.

One of the other men refused to move and held back the others. “Where are you taking us, Slimsa? I am not comfortable entering the forest.”

Others nodded in agreement, and even Tyler felt uneasy at being surrounded by trees concealing whatever dark creatures protected the woods.

Slimsa turned back towards them and frowned.

“So, you don’t trust me, eh?” He smiled a playful grin.

“It isn’t that we don’t trust you, we simply want to know what we are risking our necks for.” The man looked at his compatriots as they nodded once more. “We have plenty of perneem back at camp. Why drag us out into the middle of nowhere?”

“Ah,” Slimsa said coolly, “we have perneem back at the camp, but we don’t have what you’ll experience tonight!”

Tyler heard enthusiasm in Slimsa’s voice, but he still was uncomfortable deep within the trees. Everyone wondered what Slimsa had up his sleeve and debated whether to continue. After a few moments, they reached a conclusion and urged Slimsa to lead on. As Slimsa marched deeper into the forest, he murmured something to the effect they would not be disappointed.

* * * *

It took another half hour to climb the steep slope to their final destination. As they neared, Tyler heard wind blowing, though nothing stirred the trees. It took him a moment before he decided the sound was water rushing over rocks. Considering the terrain, it was either a steep stream or a waterfall.

Out of breath and tired from the climb, most were ready to give up when they finally broke through an opening into a small grotto of plush grasses surrounding a pool of water filled by cascading water falling from the overhead cliff. The face of exposed rock rose forty feet up the hillside, and the water pouring over its side fell untouched into the pool below.

As they entered the grotto, the air temperature rose dramatically, increasing the effect of a tropical waterfall on an exotic island.

“Well, gentlemen, we have arrived.” Slimsa raised his arms to indicate the hidden paradise deep within the forest.

The other men stared about, amazed at both the lush grass and the obvious excess of water flowing so freely. In the valley below, small streams were common, and that alone was sufficient to fill desert dwellers with wonder. But here in the hidden grotto, the power and sound of the falling water was nothing short of a miracle. All but Tyler were dumbstruck.

Slimsa moved around the pool lighting torches to properly illuminate the area.

“Why is it so warm, Slimsa?” Tyler asked, curious.

“Ah, that is the best part of all. The water comes from a warm underground spring similar to the bath houses in Malane.” As though to prove his point, he bent down next to the pool and placed his hand in the water. “Try it, you will enjoy its therapeutic heat.”

The smile on Slimsa’s face was contagious as each explored this new experience. Tyler was impressed, he looked forward to a long soak in warm water, but he was disappointed this was the secret they had journeyed so far to find. It seemed easier to simply sneak into one of the bath houses dotting the valley below.

“This is truly impressive, Slimsa, but is this all you promised us?” Tyler asked.

Slimsa smiled widely, a wolfish grin barely hiding excitement. “Oh, no, my friends, this is not all. Stay here, I’ll bring the rest of it shortly.”

The men were confused as Slimsa slid behind a break in the cliff barely visible behind the waterfall. Tyler didn’t know what Slimsa had hidden in the cave, but he hoped it was something better than ale or perneem. He had plenty of that on a regular basis, and without the sexual release, he was becoming more frustrated with his addiction than pleasured by it.

Tyler removed his robe and placed it over a rock, happy to soak in the heat while waiting for their surprise. He didn’t have to wait long. Slimsa came back through the opening, and Tyler swore he’d heard talking inside the cave. With the sound of the waterfall, it was difficult to be certain.

Slimsa signaled them to join him, and they obediently moved around to form a circle, staring at the small wooden tray he held before them. As Tyler drew near, he spotted small brown clumps piled on the tray in great heaps. To Tyler, they looked like balls of mud. The men were confused.

“What are these, Slimsa?” One of them asked suspiciously.

“They are called nemda trose.” He said casually in the ancient tongue. Loosely translated, it meant mountain flowers.

The man was even more confused by the answer and stared at the others questioningly.

“What does that mean?” He finally asked.

Slimsa flashed his devilish grin and picked one up placing it in his mouth.

“It means paradise, my friends, true paradise. Like nothing you have known before.” He popped another in his mouth and chewed through his smile.

The men were confused, but Tyler thought he knew what these mountain flowers might be. They were some sort of mushroom growing in the mountains. Judging from their dirty appearance, he figured they must be similar to truffles on Earth. They probably grew just beneath the surface of the topsoil.

Tyler picked one up and smelled it briefly. It held an earthy smell of dirt and loam, but underneath there was an appealing spicy odor. Tyler placed it in his mouth and chewed carefully.

An explosion of flavors poured forth from the tiny clump, and Tyler felt warmth spread throughout his body. He finished the ball quickly and grabbed another. The other men following suit.

“Easy, men, I find no more than four or five is required for the proper effect.”

One of the men spoke around a mouth full of the mushy brown spores. “And what effect is that, Slimsa?”

Tyler didn’t need to wait for the answer, he already felt the effect taking hold. His body was light as a feather, and he was happier than he had ever been since turning into an Onyalum. The dimly lit grotto took on an ethereal sheen as he drifted through a pleasurable dream in slow motion. Even their voices grew distant, dreamy, and slow.

Tyler had his answer. They had consumed a psychotropic hallucinogen similar to psilocybin mushrooms on Earth. He watched as the other men felt the effects. He laughed out loud, and the other men laughed with him because of the strange sound their laughter made under the effects of the psychedelic.

The roar of the waterfall became a beating drum playing music previously hidden from their ears. Tyler swayed to its rhythm, the effects of the mushroom carrying him far away in hallucinations. He was detached as he saw the other men drifting slowly to their own music. Tyler shed the rest of his clothing and climbed into the warm water, leaning back on a rock against the edge of the pool.

He smiled, laughed, and splashed the other men as they enjoyed the new experience. The laughter and release felt better than anything Tyler had experienced since the cavern and the Vereen. The stress of their journey to Malane melted away, and Tyler felt a deep calm sweep through his awareness.

The very air around him took on a purple haze and the cascading water turned electric blue looking more like a toilet bowl than a pool of water. Tyler laughed at these new hallucinations and thought back to times on Earth. He couldn’t stop laughing and soon the grotto was filled with the raucous sounds of the men lost in their journey.

Finally able to control himself, Tyler watched Slimsa’s back as he once again slid behind the waterfall. Tyler fought the laughter and wondered what new surprises he would bring out this time. It took only a moment before Slimsa reappeared, his arms outstretched and his body dripping naked in the purple haze.

His slow motion arms waving wildly, Slimsa announced peremptorily. “Tonight we feast of the flesh!”

On this command, women filed out of the cave. Their ages varied from young to mature, and all wore nothing but smiles on their delicate faces. Tyler could tell they, too, enjoyed the effects of the mountain flowers, and he laughed as each walked around the pool to encircle the men.

The mere sight of their naked bodies filled Tyler with a longing he’d not felt since losing Joriss, and his body responded in kind. He laughed out loud, spurring the rest of the men and women to join him in a raucous outburst echoing through the grotto like an insane asylum without medication.

The women jumped into the water to join the men. Two or three accompanied each man and their sensual touch launched the men to new heights of pleasure. Tyler held two women, one young and one slightly more mature. He stroked their bodies as they did his. He felt like he was back in the cavern with Joriss and the Vereen, the pleasures of the perneem sweeping through his body. But this time, the faces did not change into his lost loves. Instead, the new, nameless women showed him pleasures he’d missed for too long.

The purple haze grew more intense as the physical pleasures increased. The constant drum beat of the waterfall kept rhythm with their movements, and their hands explored and caressed each other in a frenzied orgy Tyler wanted to last forever.

As he neared the first of many peaks, his vision swirled with colors and flashing lights like an explosion of fireworks. During the ensuing waves sweeping through him, he thought he glimpsed a set of red eyes glowing from the edge of the trees. As quickly as he saw them, they disappeared, and he lost himself in the experience, casting aside the eyes to succumb to the carnal pleasures of his addiction.

* * * *

For several weeks, Tyler frequently took advantage of the grotto and its decadent lifestyle. He simply replaced the cavern of his village with the warm pool of paradise. He was content to lose himself for several days in the warm spring water while the rest of the pilgrims filled the camp beyond a level Tyler was comfortable with.

Joriss pleaded with him to stop his abusive ways and embrace Gamel and their religion, but Tyler ignored those pleas as he turned further away from the religion in which he’d feigned belief. Between the perneem and the mountain flowers, he lost what little shreds of dignity he had left.

He stopped attending daily prayers and refused to assist others when they tried to stop him from leaving the camp. His belligerence opened new vistas within the mysterious city, and he spent most of his sober hours exploring everything it had to offer.

When he was at the camp, he left behind the hustle and bustle of the religious men to indulge his addictions with Slimsa or the others suffering from the loss of their faith. He had thoroughly explored the enormous amphitheater and found it provided quiet solitude for those seeking an escape from the inane religious ramblings inherent in the camp. During the evenings, the amphitheatre became a gathering spot, like an opium den for the hundreds of Pretals and occasional Pretares who lost faith in their mysterious god.

Boredom and overcrowding took its toll on the patience of those who had journeyed so far. To make matters worse, the latest groups of pilgrims contained women from the far side of the planet. Their dress was different, their speech strange, and most of all, the women were religious leaders.

Tyler had joined a discussion with one such woman, a Pretare named Hesli. She spoke of alarmingly low birthrates in their villages, and how most families did not have children at all, let alone male children. Several generations prior to Hesli’s, the village priests declared a change to their religion in which women apprentices could be substituted for the men villages found increasingly difficult to bear. She went on to describe a region under the control of five Pretares that had lost so many men, several villages were abandoned, and what few men remained took on multiple wives in an attempt to reestablish the population.

Tyler thought back to Samil’s village and recognized how that trend was spreading throughout the planet. What if Gamel did not return? What would happen to the people of this world? Would they continue honoring the religion that was destined to destroy them, or would survival win, casting aside the old ways in favor of new innovations and technologies?

Tyler thought about the Vereen and the grotto and realized the natural resources of this planet were still rich and promising. Given the right research, they could discover wondrous drugs that could cure the drop in birthrates. Combined with a richer diet from the fertile forests, the planet could recover its population. Tyler knew from several women in the grotto that disease and birthrates were not problems in Malane. They spoke of a rich lifestyle with ample children to replace those lost from old age.

In fact, the people of Malane practiced birth control as dictated by the Pretarchs. When Tyler looked around the valley, he understood only a limited population could be supported with the resources available. He knew the need for population control, but realized they could support twice the current population. Tyler remembered Joriss’s comments about birth control and knew such things had probably been around for thousands of years. Ironic considering the planet’s current state.

Tyler foresaw an explosive situation brewing if Gamel did not reappear. Despite attempts to refocus the pilgrim’s discussions on the return of their god, many spoke rebelliously about the healthy and vibrant population within the Holy City. Why did they enjoy Gamel’s riches while the rest suffered?

Though few incidences spawned from these rumblings, Tyler heard rumors of two men raping a Malane woman. The rumor said the two men disappeared, but no one could confirm it. If such an event had occurred, how could the Pretarchs of Malane deal with such an issue? They had no police, no army and no courts. The only laws in this land came from their religion. What would happen if the Pretals from the desert rebelled? Tyler saw the camp as a powder keg set to explode. If their god was going to return, he better hurry.

Tyler pushed his way through the crowded market where the camp acquired daily sustenance. He wanted a few items to take with him to the amphitheater for the nightly parties hosted for the damned. It was usually a time of rabid discussions of revolution and rebellion, and although Tyler intimately knew about such things, he never joined the conversations. He understood better than anyone the problems rebellions represented.

Even under the use of drugs, the talk was steadily more animated and lively. He once overheard men talking about how to create primitive weapons to force their way into areas of Malane currently off limits. Neither of the men spoke about why they needed access to these areas, but with the new air of treason, reason was no longer important. Not being trusted was sufficient reason for hostilities.

Tyler pushed his way past several men debating over the unusually delicious bread now reduced to a single loaf. One argued in favor of his taking the bread because his Pretare was old and couldn’t come to the market himself. The other two Pretals cast aside that reasoning in favor of their own desires not being met in the last few days. Tyler grinned at their folly, slipping away with the bread they fought over.

He was long gone by the time he heard the angry protests erupt from his theft. Although he knew he was agitating a simmering cauldron, he’d learned long ago to look out for number one. He weaved his way in and out of the crowd, picking out pieces of fruit and vegetables before heading into the amphitheater.

He was surprised food wasn’t a problem despite the increase in population. When he asked some of the ladies at the grotto, it became clear Malane held plenty of supplies in underground storage facilities while taking full advantage of the abundance in the surrounding mountains. The forests were not off limits to citizens of Malane and contained ample supplies of fruit, vegetables, and nuts. These were delicacies to the people of the desert.

The problem was too much food. People now squabbled over items that months before they would have gladly shared as a special treat. Familiarity bred contempt, and Tyler began seeing overweight men as the abundance of food led many to gluttony. To each their addictions, Tyler thought glumly.

He’d learned to ignore the current predicament in the camp as he set up an existence that suited his own failings. He was well respected within the underground community and had all his products supplied—just like on Earth. He was content with the life despite its unhealthy nature. Fortunately, after the long journey to Malane, Samil’s body found renewed health from the heart condition that nearly killed him. He gave credit to the strength of his Onyalum spirit feeding life into the weakened flesh.

Though he felt occasional chest pains while climbing the mountains to the secret waterfall, he ignored them and submerged himself into whatever narcotics were available. Even the ladies of the grotto fell victim to the addictions of perneem. Though they had their own narcotics, they’d never known perneem until Slimsa and the other men turned them onto it. It didn’t take long before they were consumed.

Tyler was relieved. He enjoyed the mountain flowers but maintained a true addiction to perneem. During the orgies, he once again found love with Toosia and Linda. It filled his deep desires, and he became content. He even decided to stay in Malane after the climax of their pilgrimage. Well, at least until Samil’s body failed. He’d had enough of the religious life and relished the renewal of his role as a drug dealer. It was something he understood, something that connected him with his previous life on Earth. Though that life was gone, the lifestyle remained.

He entered the amphitheater as light over the western mountains faded to pinks and reds. Flickering lights near the floor indicated many enjoyed their daily habits. Tyler smelled the acrid odor of perneem wafting on the cool evening air, and his body reacted with anticipation of the dark smoke.

The newfound pleasures in the grotto were still held secret by only a few dozen men. Slimsa spoke often about the problems that would arise if hundreds of users discovered their hideaway. Despite this, Slimsa confided in Tyler and Meramses that he was concerned about the sexual release the men needed. Neither of them approved of the increasing homosexuality and they would welcome any way to provide the necessary sexual pleasures.

Because of this, Slimsa devised a plan to offer a form of prostitution inside the camp. He’d spoken with some of the women in the grotto, and they had enthusiastically agreed to accommodate the men in exchange for the perneem they were addicted to. It was a vicious circle, and though Tyler felt guilt at this obvious corruption, he supported the plan and helped Slimsa. Tyler loved the grotto, but if he could avoid the long journey into the mountains while fulfilling his carnal needs, he wholeheartedly embraced the scheme.

He was not naive, he’d known such things in Los Angeles. Women and men providing sexual favors to support their addictions. Raul and his organization avoided such people as they were notoriously unreliable and posed great risk to any operation. It was well understood these people, willing to sell themselves, would readily sell out anyone if it meant they could feed their insatiable cravings. Those people were usually addicted to crack, crystal meth, or heroin, and Tyler had avoided those dangerous narcotics. It wasn’t as though he had standards, he simply viewed them as the bottom end of the drug world and was glad to operate at the upper end of the spectrum.

He descended the stairs toward the glowing lights until Slimsa signaled him to move around to the other side of the amphitheater away from the men. Tyler moved through a row of seats to meet Slimsa near the main stage. It was an enormous platform rising twenty rows above the floor. The stage was cut from stone, as was most of the amphitheater, but this was highly polished with a white sheen reflecting even the tiniest spark of light. It glowed in the dim twilight, but Tyler knew they were moving to the back of stage into its hidden catacombs.

Only a few men adequately explored the area, and since Tyler was one of them, he knew Slimsa wanted his expertise to locate a suitable place for their brothel. When he’d been exploring, he had found a hidden stairway leading down the backside of the stage to an underground catacomb filled with rooms and altars for worship. Tyler had no idea what ceremonies had been performed down there, but since only the altars remained with centuries of dust, he assumed they were abandoned long ago.

With rich fabrics from Malane, the rooms could easily be converted into a cavern of their own—a cavern that would satisfy orgies for hundreds of addicts.

“Good evening, Samil, are you ready to put our plan into action?” Slimsa was as cool as the Cheshire Cat. As usual, Meramses stood back, calm and quiet, more like a body guard than a partner.

“Yes, Slimsa, I am ready and even brought dinner.” Tyler held out the sack of the food he’d acquired. “I secured a loaf of the bransin bread we so love, much to the chagrin of the three Pretals arguing over it.”

Slimsa laughed and embraced Tyler’s shoulders. “That’s what I love about you, brother, you were born to this work.”

Tyler returned the smile. You have no idea, brother!

Slimsa gestured to the back of the stage. “After you, Samil, show us what wonders you have discovered.”

Tyler moved into the shadows as Meramses handed him a chemical lamp. They marched through the darkness with the lamp held forward. He quickly located the hidden stairway to the catacombs below. He ignored the voices of Slimsa and Meramses speaking quietly about the amazing construction around them. The temples in the villages were architectural marvels, but this was something else entirely.

The dim light of the lamp reflected off the polished stone and lit the entire stairwell as they descended hundreds of feet below the stage. On the bottom, Tyler lit various sconces lining the hallways and rooms of the catacombs. Once completed, angelic light reflected off the white stone. To Tyler, it looked heavenly, and he thought once again of Gamel.

Were these Gamel’s private chambers, or did he hold residence in the great temple? If these were not Gamel’s private chambers, then what purpose had they served? Were they for ritual preparation or prayer? Neither seemed reasonable use for such a grand architecture, especially since they appeared abandoned. Perhaps they’d been built, but never used. Whatever their original purpose, they would soon have a new one.

“Samil, you are fabulous.” Slimsa spun around smiling at the glorious rooms. “We can setup our private meeting areas far from the prying eyes in the camp. Assuming we can keep the men quiet, no one need know women entertain us down here. Splendid!”

“I am sure some of the women can easily supply cloth, pillows and blankets to soften the stone.” Tyler placed his hand on the glowing wall next to him.

Slimsa grinned. “I believe they can do that and more. We should be able to provide beds, tables, and chairs as well. These catacombs should be more than a sexual meeting place, they should be our headquarters where we can pursue whatever interests us.” He signaled to a room down the hallway. “Down there, we can manufacture everything we need, and I have already secured the necessary ingredients from a person willing to make the journey to the desert. He has several volunteers, so we should be able to maintain a steady supply.”

Tyler watched as the excited Slimsa began building his drug empire. He obviously saw an opportunity to seize power from the religious leaders by providing instantaneous pleasure rather than the promise of some far distant future. Tyler knew he had more experience and organizational skills from being the Admiral, but his desires were simpler and more immediate—feed his addiction. He left empire building to younger men willing to trade freedom for the trappings of power.

Tyler smiled at Meramses. “This will be truly spectacular, Slimsa.”

Slimsa was lost in his own imaginings. “Yes, it truly will.”

* * * *

It didn’t take long for Slimsa to create the new pleasure palace deep in the catacombs. When finally unveiled, the hundreds of men it catered to were impressed. Everybody was ready to experience that which had been denied them since beginning their long journey.

Because the number of women was limited, Slimsa devised a numbering system enabling everyone an opportunity to participate once or twice a week. Although the economy of Malane was not based on material acquisition, Slimsa established a simple trade of sex and drugs in exchange for food, ale, and clothing. Within a short period of time, Slimsa’s sin emporium acquired the rich look of the old village caverns adorned with tapestries, sculptures, and furnishings.

Surprisingly, some of the new customers came from within Malane itself. Young men and women gladly threw their beliefs aside in exchange for the newfound decadence offered in the depths. Even the grotto was rarely frequented except when Slimsa held private parties to escape the hustle and bustle of his thriving enterprise.

Tyler rode the wave of success with grace and humility. He held a special niche as confidante to Slimsa, and everything he desired was provided. He found sober times rare and did not remember the times when he was not. It felt like Los Angeles, and he relished his former position. The BMW and cable television were noticeably missing, but then he’d never enjoyed orgies back on Earth. It was a welcome addition to his addictive behavior, and he threw himself to the task with a gusto even he found surprising. Every time was like the first, and he gladly lived out his fantasies with Toosia and Linda.

Deep in his soul, he knew the pleasures were nothing more than a perversion of the love he’d lost, but because of his addictions, rational thought no longer ruled. He didn’t care why he pursued the pleasures only that they continue. The more he consumed the less of Tyler remained. But he needed more. Like the crack addicts he’d once despised, he no longer controlled his world, it controlled him. He constantly fed his habit and the perverted diversions were never more than a door away.

He never slept inside the camp and spent most of his time in the catacombs. He wasn’t even certain whether his bunk was still available. Surely they’d reassigned it to one of the new pilgrims arriving each day. The camp bustled with these arrivals, and every day, life within the camp became more unbearable. It was this confined living that fed the catacombs. Men grew impatient with the arrangements and turned toward the temptations offered beneath the ancient gathering place.

Older men, Pretals now retired, could not resist the forbidden fruit denied them as spiritual leaders in their community. As their life neared its end, they wanted to taste the fruit to bring back even a momentary glimpse of the youth and vitality they’d once had. The catacombs thrived as men sought an escape from the drab existence within the church, and the increase forced Slimsa to recruit large men to strong arm the unruly crowds that became so common.

This was the trap Tyler wanted to avoid. Slimsa no longer spent time enjoying his riches but spent time building and protecting them. Tyler’s position was ideal, all the enjoyment, none of the work. Slimsa’s only demand of him was that he explore new areas, new populations, and new supply acquisitions within Malane. It gave Tyler a reason to continue his travels throughout the mysterious city and kept him flush with supplies and women.

He was currently far from the catacombs inside the central city of Malane. He’d borrowed the robes of a Pretarch and casually walked through the city as if he belonged there. Deception was uncommon on Gamel, and no one questioned his presence as he explored the various buildings surrounding the central temple.

On this trip, he’d found the meeting place of the Pretarch council, but narrowly avoided being ushered into one of the sessions. Nonetheless, he found a small cubby to hide in while listening to the council discuss issues confronting their Holy City and the pilgrims within their borders. The council was angry with the situation and called for a way to force order and ensure religious rituals were being met while the pilgrims waited for Gamel’s return.

Grand Pretarch Nerun offered his assurances the pilgrims visit was temporary and that order would be restored once Gamel returned. This was met with questions about his return, but Nerun held them at bay as he assured them the time drew near and they would all be told once Gamel’s intentions were known.

Tyler imagined an angry city waiting indefinitely for the return of a god that abandoned them long ago. Tyler found no proof he existed, and the natural evolution of the planet explained more about their predicament than the theory of a mysterious and vengeful god. If the council didn’t know when this pilgrimage would end, no one did.

This bode well for Slimsa’s operations, and if Gamel didn’t return, there would be a power vacuum as people grew restless and despondent with a religion that promised a god but delivered nothing.

Tyler knew civil wars started over less. He had left the council meeting with little to report to Slimsa other than the pending return of their god was unknown. He’d made his way through several of the towers, stopping in a dining hall to join others in one of their fine meals. Though a few people eyed him suspiciously, his cover story about living far from the city was taken at face value. He rather enjoyed spying, and despite a remembrance of Nayllen Hooss on Poolto, Tyler saw the appeal of knowing more than your position allowed.

As though completing his tour of a visiting Pretarch, Tyler enjoyed one of the communal bath houses, consuming great quantities of the local wine while soaking away stress in the fresh mineral bath. Although his addictions precluded him remaining in Malane for too long, he took advantage of everything while there. He stayed a couple days and discovered many interesting things within the great city.

He discovered technology was not banned and was even pursued with some vigor. He’d accidentally stumbled upon a building whose sole purpose was to research and produce technological devices. Though primitive by Earth standards, it was nonetheless a manufacturing facility that told much about the religion and its leaders.

Much of the technology was targeted to agriculture, but Tyler knew how quickly that could change during a crisis situation. It was an easy matter to turn plowshares into swords. He wondered whether this world knew anything about weapons. So far, he’d never seen signs they did.

Based on this technology, Tyler wondered if Nerun actually believed in their religion. Considering the paradise he oversaw, Tyler doubted he was willing to share his unique power. As head of the church, he must have had intimate knowledge about whether Gamel really existed. It was not uncommon for leaders to withhold vital information from the general public, especially if that meant maintaining power. The position of Grand Pretarch was the highest you could achieve within the church, and on a planet ruled by a single religion, it was the ultimate power.

When Tyler tried to enter the main temple, he’d been escorted by Pretarchs who denied him access to much of the facility. They prayed in the main chapel and spent time in the vast library, but much of the inner areas were off limits to those outside the council. That was all the more reason Tyler wanted to explore them, but he couldn’t devise how.

After growing weary of the escorts, he thanked them generously and left through the temple’s main entrance. He was disappointed, especially if saythers really visited, but then he didn’t want to jeopardize his current lifestyle. Perhaps an opportunity would present itself in the future, but for now, he was content to explore all that was not denied him.

After spending some time within the city, his body ached with the withdrawals that came frequently during his travels. Although he always took supplies with him, he rarely indulged while maintaining his ruse. He longed for the escape of the catacombs and always looked forward to returning.

He’d grown especially fond of a young lady who seemed to favor his needs above all others. He was all too happy to oblige her, and she was all too happy to limit her exposure to the multitude of men coming through the catacombs.

Tyler invited her to stay in his own private quarters, and though Slimsa would have preferred her as a regular in his harem, he was happy to provide Tyler whatever he desired. The relationship was mutual and Tyler found she could accommodate many of his needs.

Her name was Lesil, and Tyler thought about her with longing as he made his way back through the valley. She was one of the Pretals from the other side of the planet, and she had grown tired of her husband who favored his other wives more than her. She was older than Joriss, but maintained a sexual prowess that surprised him the first time they’d met.

Married or not, he liked their arrangement and was more than willing to continue sharing his bed. Surprisingly, she’d been addicted to perneem before making her way to Malane. As Pretal of her village, the stress of leading her people and sharing a husband took its toll on her religious foundation. After losing a child early in life, she’d turned to the escape of perneem and lost herself to its abuses.

Tyler often thought about her lost child. How many users were tortured by the loss of a loved one? Was this the primary reason people found solace in the narcotics, to replace the emptiness that came with death or loss? He knew there must be more to it than that, but it was the primary reason that drove him. If misery loved company, he and Lesil were made for each other.

* * * *

As Tyler neared the pilgrim’s camp, he was stopped by a young Pretal who’d once shared his tent. The man was named Semnom, and Tyler rather liked the young man despite his heavy religious convictions. He was always pleasant, never nosey, and never looked down on Tyler as the others often did. Perhaps he was just naive.

“Samil, am I glad to see you!” Semnom looked confused as he eyed Tyler’s Pretarch robes.

Tyler noticed the gaze. “Sorry, Semnom, I have not been unduly promoted, my robes were torn and I am awaiting new ones. I am merely borrowing these until mine are repaired.”

Though temporarily dubious, Semnom quickly put it aside. It was one of the many things Tyler liked about him—he always assumed good in others, though that made him too easy to deceive.

“Ah, I see, they look nice on you.” Semnom was also easily distracted.

“You needed to see me, why?” Tyler asked casually.

“Oh, yes … well, I ran into Seram who told me Joriss wishes to see you. Seram didn’t seem happy to pass on the information, but then he loves Joriss, so he’ll do anything she asks.” Semnom smiled at this insight.

“Thank you, Semnom, I’ll be sure to stop in and see her.”

Tyler turned to leave, but Semnom grabbed his robe gently. “Wait, there is more. We haven’t seen you in a long time, so we have given your space in our tent to some of the new Pretals arriving. Sorry, I tried to stop them, but they overruled me.”

Tyler smiled at the young man. He could imagine Semnom trying to resist the other men who were happy to see Tyler’s departure.

“It is fine, Semnom, I have found other accommodations. You were a wonderful tent mate, and I am sincerely happy to have made your acquaintance.”

Semnom smiled and looked like he was struggling to find some way to keep Tyler longer.

“I am afraid I must leave, Semnom, thank you for letting me know about Joriss.” Tyler once again moved to leave, but was stopped by Semnom’s voice holding a note of fear and confusion.

“I hear things, Samil—things that disturb me.” As Tyler turned, Semnom appeared uncertain how to begin the conversation.

“What do you hear, Semnom?” Tyler asked, cautious while sounding comforting.

Semnom paused but finally blurted it out. “I hear some say Gamel will not return. There are rumors of rebellion and … sin.” He looked around suspiciously as he added the final part.

Tyler saw palpable relief on Semnom’s face as the man unloaded his burden. He was a newly appointed Pretal and had only recently completed the Trial of Gesh. Although it would have been easy to tell the man the truth, it would crush his spirit and demoralize him. Considering the journey they’d made to Malane, that would be wrong, and besides, Tyler liked him.

“I see.” Tyler paused while trying to craft a proper response. “What does your heart tell you? What does your experience in the desert tell you?”

Semnom smiled weakly. “It tells me my God will return.”

“Well, there you have it then. Faith is what matters, Semnom, rumors are for those who lack it.”

Semnom brightened visibly, pleased with Tyler’s response. “You are one of the wisest men I have ever known, Samil, may Gamel bless you when he returns.”

Tyler smiled while thinking darkly, I doubt I will be blessed.

* * * *

After reporting to Slimsa, Tyler walked the short distance to the home where Joriss stayed, and thought back to his meeting and the report of the council’s confusion. It was clear Slimsa was already thinking beyond his niche market and to the planet as a whole. He saw an opportunity to take power as a vacuum was created when Gamel failed to return.

The council had every right to be concerned. Faith was one thing, but to make predictions and have the time come and pass without incident would be devastating. Tyler recalled religions back on Earth that made similar predictions which never came to pass. When that happened, they usually took matters into their own hands fulfilling the prophecy their god must have forgotten.

What happened to the leaders when their holy premonitions turn out to be nothing more than maniacal dreams? Would people still follow them? With the promise of paradise lost, things on this world could change rapidly. To taste the forbidden fruit was to never turn back.

Since Tyler had personal knowledge of Creators, he alone possessed a rare insight into the possible motivations and promises of a god. Gamel could return, the possibility existed, but it was just as likely he had forgotten this world when he left to create millions more throughout his galaxies. Tyler knew it wasn’t for lack of love that gods left, it was for lack of time.

Since the Creators existed outside time, a blink of an eye for a god could be a million years for its creations. Time was a physical reality that was part of their creations, not a rule they were forced to live by. Five thousand years was nothing to one who created time on scales of a billion years. Would memory of this small planet be enough to draw the attention of an entity that spent its time filling the universal void with stars, planets, and civilizations?

Tyler didn’t care what happened since he’d found his own paradise. Gods didn’t scare him. As an Onyalum, he was beyond their control. Where then would be his place if Slimsa seized power? What role could he fill without revealing his true identity? Military? It was possible, but that might raise suspicions. Slimsa was open to many things, but alien possession was not likely one of them.

The plain truth was Tyler didn’t want a role. The trappings of power weighed heavy upon those willing to grab it. Did Tyler want that responsibility again? Was he ready to give up the decadent life of personal consumption to worry about the affairs of state? What would happen if it came to war? What paradise would Tyler have left if that occurred? He could probably avert war if it came down to it, but did he want to? What reason would he have to maintain the current leadership? Why not let Slimsa replace religion with something different?

But what would that look like? Slimsa obviously enjoyed power, but Tyler knew well what happened to those who hold it for too long. After a while, you replace the figurehead god with your own likeness. You begin to believe that if the Universe did not bless you as a deity, then you wouldn’t be in power. It becomes easy to convince yourself it was destiny or divine intervention that ordained you as leader of the masses.

Tyler grinned. What about Nerun? He possessed the technology to rule whereas Slimsa held nothing but truth about a false religion. Tyler didn’t figure Nerun would simply pass power on easily. He had the entire population of Malane on his side and most of the religious leaders from around the globe. Would it be enough to overcome disillusionment when Gamel failed to appear? What price is loyalty when you are near extinction?

Tyler forcefully shook his head. It was beginning to feel like Poolto all over again. So much potential, yet so much suffering. Power was merciless, and Tyler knew the price of being on the wrong side.

He shook aside the somber thoughts and focused on his meeting with Joriss. He couldn’t imagine what she wanted to talk about, but he was betting it concerned marriage with Seram. They had feelings for one another, and according to some of Tyler’s contacts, they saw each other on a near daily basis. Since arriving in Malane, she’d converted back to the religion of her childhood and found solace in the peace and future it offered. Tyler didn’t begrudge her that.

He fondly remembered their times together and wondered if she and Seram had consummated their relationship. Though not strictly forbidden, it was frowned upon within normal society. He couldn’t imagine Seram having the compulsion to ask and he figured Joriss would never accept … yet. She was on a mission, and Tyler knew she didn’t take that mission lightly. She would bear children and she would be very particular about who she allowed to father them. Seram was the closest thing she’d found to an eligible father, so perhaps this would be an announcement of their wedding.

He knocked on the small door, waiting patiently for footsteps to approach. The door opened to the visage of the owner, a young Pretarch named Ronye. He wore his typical expression of veiled friendliness, but Tyler couldn’t help thinking the man was suspicious of his intentions towards Joriss. From the outside, he supposed their relationship was unusual, but considering she’d been evicted from her village, it was a natural tendency for her to look for a father figure.

“Good evening, Ronye, I am here to see Joriss.” Tyler remained casual and warm.

Ronye eyed him silently for a moment. “Yes, she is expecting you, Samil. Please, come in and make yourself comfortable.”

Tyler moved into the main room and took a chair near the glowing warmth of a fire. Ronye didn’t sit, but remained near the entrance eyeing Tyler with an unusual intensity.

“May I get you some refreshment, Samil?”

Tyler wanted wine, but decided that would seem inappropriate.

“Some juice would be wonderful—if you have any.” It was the one thing Tyler enjoyed despite the absence of alcohol. It was a welcome addition to their new diet in Malane and reminded Tyler of his time as River Red where juice was an integral part of their jungle existence.

Ronye nodded before disappearing into the back of the house. Tyler relaxed despite the strange welcome. He didn’t have much of an opinion about the man, and certainly didn’t feel threatened by him. Whatever bothered him was none of Tyler’s concern or interest. Joriss however ….

“Hello, Samil, I am glad you could come so quickly.”

The sound startled Tyler momentarily.

“Oh, hello, Joriss, …uh, no problem.” He stuttered before composing himself. Despite their new relationship, Tyler could not suppress the sensual images of her from his mind. It caused discomfort that both quickly got past after a few moments. “Please, sit down and tell me what you wanted to see me about.”

She pulled a chair close to Tyler and waited while Ronye delivered each of them a cup of juice. Joriss remained quiet until Ronye was gone. Tyler sipped patiently.

Joriss struggled to begin the conversation so Tyler leapt to her aid.

“How is Seram? I have not seen him for some time.” It was a benign question, and Tyler hoped it would open her up to conversation. If she were to marry the young man, it was a good first question.

“Wha … oh, he is fine.” She sounded distant and not too concerned with Seram, so perhaps Tyler’s suspicions were incorrect.

“Good. Well, tell me why you have summoned me?” He asked wanting to get to the point.

She paused staring down at her juice before setting down the cup and standing. She paced the room, obviously disturbed by whatever she wanted to say. Tyler continued to wait patiently, but thought about Lesil and how he had promised her he would return before too late. They were to enjoy each other once more, and Tyler looked forward to the release.

Finally, Joriss made up her mind. “When I was chased from my village, I had no where to turn. Fortunately, you and the Vereen took me in and gave me a life.” She paused wringing her hands wildly. “I now know that it was a false life—a life of deceit and sin.”

Great, Tyler thought, she’s going to preach. He tried to remain calm to let her vent.

“You see, I hated my God because he’d taken the one thing I had truly loved in this world. In return, I tried to punish him through my actions and my lifestyle. But it was me I was punishing by turning away from his love and his gospel.” She stared at Tyler, waiting for a response.

Fine, he would take the bait. “I realize you have found Gamel once again, and for that I am happy, but what has this to do with me?” He tried to sound reasonable but didn’t think it came out that way. The last thing he wanted was to debate religious convictions with a newly converted harlot.

“When I worked with the Vereen, I did some things … you know … things I am now ashamed of.” He saw the pain on her face. Facing up to your inadequacies is never a pleasant experience.

“We all do things we are ashamed of, but we move on and change our lives … hopefully for the better.” Where was she headed with this?

“Yes, but some of us do not move on.” She let that hang silently.

Okay, she wanted him to give up his wicked ways. But he already knew that, so what else was she angling at?

“You mean me, of course?” He said it without resentment.

She looked away, embarrassed. “I know what it is you are doing, Samil.”

“And what do you think I am doing?” He said quietly, his anger just held in check.

“I know what you have created for others like you in the camp. I … I have heard about what you do down there … in the catacombs.” She turned around as a lone tear streaked down her face. “I was once part of that … and I cannot let it go on for those other lost souls.”

Tyler’s anger surfaced. “Who have you been talking to and what have they said?”

She took a step back from his outburst. “I … I have heard about the catacombs and what you do down there. It is just like at the Vereen’s … except you are corrupting these beautiful young people in Malane.”

“What corruption? These people do what they want and nothing more!” He brushed aside her concern.

“No, Samil, that’s not what they want to do. It’s what the perneem tells them to do!” Her anger started to rise, and it surprised Tyler. “I know about the young women you have recruited for your perversions … and young boys, too. Gamel will not tolerate this sin in his Holy City.”

“Sin?” Tyler let his anger fully erupt. “The sin is how this city lives in paradise while the rest of the planet suffers! The sin is the lies the church spreads to fool us into thinking your god, who has forsaken us, will return! The sin is how you can preach to me about right and wrong after spending most of your life rebuking the religion you now profess! Don’t talk to me about sin, young lady, I know all too well about that!”

Joriss sat, crying into her hands. Tyler’s anger simmered as her tears brought back fatherly feelings. He hadn’t meant to say such cruel things, but he couldn’t stand being preached to by a whore. He loved Joriss, but she could not change her past. She sold herself for perneem and now she sold herself for a promised salvation. Soon, she would sell herself for a child. What sin? They were all damned and just didn’t know it.

He got up and tried to comfort her. “I am sorry for what I said, Joriss, please forgive me.”

She pulled away and stood up to confront him. “It is not I who must forgive you, Samil—it is Gamel.”

It was obvious they weren’t going to agree, so he moved to the door. “He will not forgive me, Joriss—trust me.”

“Please, Samil, stop what you are doing. Stop this madness—there is still hope for you.” She pleaded through tears.

Tyler shook his head and opened the door. “No, Joriss, there is no hope for me.” As he walked out to the roadway, a tear formed in his eyes. He had lost her and knew he would never speak with her again. It was a common theme in his life … love, then loss.

* * * *

After his confrontation with Joriss, Tyler spent several days nearly comatose from the drugs he imbibed. Unfortunately, the erratic self abuse couldn’t erase the painful memory of her tears. He would miss her, but he knew it was for the better. She deserved a good life, while he deserved hell. If they’d maintained their relationship, she would constantly try converting him, and he would probably try corrupting her. It was not a healthy relationship, and he was happy to end it. At least he thought he was happy.

When he made love with Lesil, he couldn’t help thinking about Joriss’s words. Had he corrupted Lesil, or was she already corrupted and simply wanted company? He felt like it was the latter, but he could no longer trust his own intuitions. He was selfish, that much was true, and he had to admit he would do anything to keep Lesil by his side, even if it meant something that wasn’t good for her.

Like Joriss, Lesil wore the hard years of abuse around her eyes. Life wore her down, and unlike him, she didn’t have an Onyalum spirit to revive the weakening flesh. He was destroying her as much as he had destroyed Linda so long ago.

But Lesil was addicted long before Tyler met her, so how could he be blamed for her situation? She made her own choices, and he only accommodated them. Why should he blame himself for everyone else’s problems? He couldn’t solve his own, why did anyone expect him to solve theirs?

He cursed Joriss silently for ruining the one relationship he had left. He would still use Lesil, but now he would feel guilty each time. How long before that guilt split them apart? How long before one or the other died from their abuses? She tried to keep up with him, but she didn’t have the stamina of a demon possessed fool. Someday he would return to find her lifeless—a hapless victim who found the final escape from the rigors and pains of life on Gamel.

These thoughts hurt him as he soaked in a bath house in Malane. He'd returned to the city at Slimsa’s request to garner additional intelligence on the council and the Grand Pretarch, but Tyler wasn’t sure how much he could obtain. Despite that, he was willing to take a break from the never ending parties blurring the passing of time. He felt unhealthy and unclean, and didn’t want others around him to see his unease. He didn’t want to change, but something inside urged him in that direction.

He thought about the trapped Onyalum, Adanni, and moaned. Back to haunt me, my friend? Did you find a way to break out of my inner prison?

There was no response, and Tyler didn’t really think it was Adanni causing the discomfort. It was the memory of Joriss haunting him. That combined with the inescapable loss of Toosia and Linda. He’d once desired change before the accident that changed him for eternity. Was that the anguish that surfaced from deep within—a true desire to become something good and wholesome?

He wiped the thoughts from his mind as he drank wine from an ornate goblet. He was drunk and waiting for the dinner hour to begin. He posed as a Pretarch once more, and as usual, no one confronted him about this obvious deceit. Stupid priests! He thought bitterly.

He left the warm pool water and toweled dry. The water numbed his mind when combined with the effects of the alcohol, and he felt too belligerent to be seen in public. He would have to try and hold it under control.

Focus, Tyler, you have a task to perform. How do you get into the temple undetected?

If he could focus on the mission, he could avoid the painful thoughts plaguing him. He could momentarily forget those problems and pretend he was a secret agent trying to bring down an evil empire.

Was that what you thought, Nayllen? That you were bringing down an evil empire? He laughed inside. You brought down one evil empire to replace it with your own. Power corrupts, Nayllen—is that my future?

Despite his inner warnings, the wine was having its way with him, and he laughed outwardly at his own musings. Secret agent Tyler, undercover like no other agent before! He continued laughing until rudely interrupted by a middle-aged Pretarch.

“I said excuse me, sir, but may I have a word with you?”

Tyler stared at the man, composing himself from the crazy outburst.

“And who … might I ask … are you?” Tyler belched rather loudly but suppressed the laughter threatening to break through his calm exterior.

The man was unfazed by Tyler’s behavior. “I am Pretarch Naran.” He paused as he eyed Tyler’s Pretarch robes.

“Yes, Pretarch Naran, what can I help you with?”

“Well, you … I mean, are you Pretal Samil of Kidium?”

Tyler froze as his name and village were spoken out loud. How did this man know who he was, or where he was from? He looked at his Pretarch robes and couldn’t decide how to respond. Did the man really know or was he simply inquiring. Tyler could pretend he was not Samil, but what if the man really knew. Perhaps his spying days were over.

“I am Pretal Samil … I, uh … lost my own robes and borrowed these.” It sounded lame, but it was the best he could conjure in his intoxicated state.

Once again, Naran was unperturbed by the response. “I see. Well, we can easily replace these with something more fitting of your position.” He finished calmly, with just a hint of condescension.

“Great! Yes, great, I would be indebted indeed.” Tyler followed the man from the pool area into a back room filled with robes of various sizes and colors.

“Of course, we rarely see Pretals in this part of the city, but we usually have clothing appropriate for them.” He moved through the rack quickly and Tyler wondered if they had an appointment to keep. “Ah, here we go, and it looks like it is your size.”

Tyler took the robes casually as he absently cast his camouflage on the floor.

“Fine, I’ll just slip into these. Thanks again for your assistance.” Tyler pulled the pants on and donned the robe over his head before tying it at the waist. “Very comfortable your material, much better than the coarse stuff we have back in Kidium. How is it you know me, Naran?” Tyler asked as though nothing were amiss.

“Oh, Nerun told me.”

Tyler froze. Nerun knew? Great, now what? If Nerun knew Tyler was in Malane, what else did he know?

“Yes, our Grand Pretarch.” Tyler agreed calmly. “I have only met him once, of course, when we arrived, but he seems like a very personable fellow. I am proud to have him as the leader of our faith.”

Tyler couldn’t tell if Naran was buying the false loyalty, but he wanted to hide his true intentions as much as possible.

“And you wanted to see me, why?” Tyler asked.

“Oh, no … not me, Nerun would like to see you.”

Damn it, now what?

Tyler hid his fear at being summoned by the Grand Pretarch. “I see, how wonderful, when shall I meet him?”

Naran was momentarily confused by the question. “Wha … oh, of course, in the temple, now.”

Tyler couldn’t believe it, in the temple. Well, he had wanted to get in there, what better way than to be invited.

“Splendid, lead on, my good man.” Tyler signaled unsteadily.

Tyler followed Naran out of the bath house and toward the large temple dominating the center of the city. It was a magnificent piece of architecture, and Tyler wanted desperately to see the rest of the interior. Perhaps he would have his opportunity, although he was nervous about meeting Nerun.

Thinking about the benign leader made him think about the Emperor on Poolto and his disarming way of seeing through you. Was Nerun an Onyalum? The thought could not be discounted. This world provided a perfect situation for an entity that thrived on misery.

They entered through the main doors and passed by the security that waited for strangers who did not belong. It was open, of course, to all who wished to study the ancient texts, but the rest of the building was off limits, even to most in Malane. Tyler had no doubt what they thought about a desert dweller in their Holiest of Holies.

They marched down countless corridors and through countless doors. They even descended a stairwell Tyler was certain he could never find again. Where were they going? They were somewhere beneath the large temple, and Tyler wondered what mysteries lurked in this underground zerum.

Naran finally stopped next to a door at the end of a dark corridor dimly lit with wall sconces.

“Here we are. Please, make yourself comfortable, and Nerun will join you briefly.”

“Thank you, Naran.” Tyler moved into the room and was at least happy for the brighter light. The room was not large but occupied by rows of books on dusty shelves. On the right side of the room, a large desk sat empty with a single chair. In the far corner, a lone chair sat against the corner of the wall. Tyler walked across and sat down, his legs weak from their walk to the temple.

The room appeared like someone’s study, and Tyler wondered if this was Nerun’s office. The man dressed casual, so the atmosphere seemed to fit his personality.

Tyler heard a door on the other side of the book shelves open and close as Nerun took a seat behind the desk. Tyler remained in the far chair wondering whether Nerun knew he was there.

“Hello, Samil, please, pull up your chair and join me.”

“Oh, yes, Grand Pretarch.” Tyler moved closer and felt like a school child before the principal.

“Please, call me Nerun, Grand Pretarch is so … stuffy.” Nerun smiled wide and his disarming charm had an immediate impact. Tyler felt suddenly relaxed and looked forward to their conversation. Odd, what had he been so afraid of?

“Nerun, okay.” Tyler easily agreed. Was the alcohol making him relaxed?

“I am sure you are wondering why I have summoned you. After all, you have every right to enjoy what my city has to offer.”

“Well, I … I have been enjoying your city … but, yes, what can I help you with?” Tyler wasn’t sure how an old Pretal could possibly help the Grand Pretarch.

“I see you have found proper robes.” Nerun waved a hand at Tyler before indicating his own. “I, too, prefer the simpler robes of the Pretal. Unless I have to, I generally don’t wear the robes of my true office. Although I have never been a Pretal myself, I find the mission of the Pretal both compelling and noble. After all, it is you who bring Gamel to the people.”

Tyler wasn’t sure how to respond, Nerun clearly knew of his deceptive ruse, posing as a Pretarch.

“Yes, it was compelling.” He sounded unsure and hoped Nerun didn’t pick up on it.

“Indeed, I am sure it was.” Nerun picked up a book from the desk and lifted it up into the air casually scanning it in the light. “You see, Samil, I am bound by my office to oversee the workings of this great city. It is no small task, I assure you. Ever since your arrival, we have faced some daunting administrative issues, and of course, it has pressed my time more than usual.” He smiled at Tyler who was more confused by this confession. What did this man want?

Nerun placed the book back on the desk and stared straight at Tyler. “We are finally so close to our goal of welcoming our God back into our presence. Indeed, we are on the verge of living in a true paradise under the love of our Creator.”

“Yes, we all rejoice in this time of celebration.” Tyler said coolly.

“Indeed, rejoice, that is truly the right word for this moment in our history.” Nerun paused briefly, a look of concern filling his features. “But not all of us rejoice for the same reasons. Indeed, some of us rejoice even more than necessary.”

Tyler thought about the catacombs and wondered whether Nerun had found out. He clearly was angling at something, but it seemed unlikely he knew everything, else why the long speech?

“I don’t think I understand.” Tyler lied.

“Well, I can see that a holy man, such as you, would never jeopardize that which we have waited for so long. But there are others, perhaps, who might not wish our moment of truth to come to pass.”

“I find that hard to believe, Nerun, who wouldn’t want our god to return?” Tyler tried to sound incredulous.

“Indeed, it boggles the mind, but alas, it is true.” Nerun sat back in his chair and smiled warmly. “Perhaps you heard about the two men who accosted one of our young ladies?” Nerun’s eyebrows lifted slightly.

Tyler tried to look surprised. “Well, I heard a rumor of such things, but I assumed they couldn’t be true.”

“Indeed, it would be natural for someone such as you to disbelieve such things are possible. After all, we naturally see good in our fellow man. But it is true, I am afraid, and it is something this city has never experienced.” He waved his hands dismissively. “Of course we have cleaned it up as quietly as possible, but the rumors persist.”

Tyler once again looked surprised. He hadn’t known the men who had done it, but he knew they had never reappeared. How does the Grand Pretarch clean up this kind of event? What happened to the men?

“The citizens of this Holy City are concerned, and rightly so. On the eve of our Creator’s return we have seen evil rear its ugly head.” Nerun looked into Tyler’s eyes with a penetrating stare contradicting the disarming charm he exuded so well.

“I am sorry to hear about such things, Grand Pretarch, but what can I, a lowly Pretal, do about it?”

“Nerun, please.”

“Yes, Nerun.” Tyler agreed mildly.

“I don’t expect you to do anything about it, Samil. What can any of us do in the face of evil?” He leaned forward and clasped his hands in front of Tyler on the desk. “Tell me, Samil, if those men had been someone from your group, what would you have done had you known about their sin?”

Obviously, Tyler was being tested and had to be careful what he said. What answer was Nerun looking for?

“Well, had I known … I … well, I suppose I would have talked with the young men and convinced them to turn themselves in for their crimes.” Tyler knew it sounded lame, but it fit what an old Pretal might say under the circumstances.

“Crimes?” Nerun asked gently. “Indeed, crimes. This is a word we have not known for a long time. Perhaps in the desert, under the grueling circumstances of your existence, this is something you see more regularly.”

Tyler paused to look through Samil’s memories. He found nothing to indicate crime was a problem on the desert floor. It was an odd thought, especially considering the difficult life they endured, but crime was not common.

“Actually, Nerun, crime is not really common where I come from either.”

“And yet the word so easily slips from your tongue … surely it must have occurred on occasion?”

Tyler couldn’t think of any instances in Kidium, or even at the cavern. Everyone had always been friendly and helpful. Oh, sure, sin existed, most of the common vices were a regular mainstay in the people’s diet, especially those in the cavern. But crime? He couldn’t think of any.

“No, I do not remember such things happening in my village, or my region for that matter. I simply summoned it from my readings of the Book of Fernan who described the villages before the Trial of Gesh was established. He wrote about the crimes people would commit on each other as the people lost faith in Gamel.”

“You are well read, my friend—I apologize if I offended you in any way. I am glad to hear that this is something unknown to the people, it fills me with hope. But still, it has happened here, and we must be vigilant to ensure it does not impede our God’s return.”

“I understand, Nerun, and we will all support you in this effort.” Tyler tried to sound convincing. He wasn’t sure why he’d been called upon, but the tone of the conversation was disturbing. It was as if Nerun knew a little, but didn’t know who or what exactly.

“I know you will, Samil, that is why I have called upon you.”

“Why me, Grand Pretarch?” Tyler asked confused. What did this man want him to do?

“Nerun, please.” Tyler nodded in agreement. “It is clear you have a natural curiosity in you, Samil, thus why I find you in my city enjoying its hospitality while others await their God in the camps.”

Tyler was ready to protest but Nerun silenced him with a hand.

“Don’t worry, Samil, you are not in trouble. In fact, I find your curiosity a potentially valuable asset.”

Asset? What did he mean by that? Did he want Tyler to spy for him? He smiled inside—the cat guarding the canary?

“I don’t follow you, Grand Pre … I mean, Nerun.”

“Of course you don’t, Samil, that is why you might prove useful to me. Let me be open and honest with you, Samil. I know there are people who are sowing unrest within our community. They are probably corrupting our youth and committing crimes against our church. It is inevitable, I suppose, boredom and lack of faith will cause many to stray from their God. It has happened before, and it will likely happen again.”

“What is it you want me to do?” Tyler asked cautiously. Nerun knew more than he was revealing.

Nerun looked calmly at Tyler. “I only want to borrow your eyes and ears, Samil.”

So, he did want a spy. This could work to Slimsa’s advantage, assuming he wanted it. At the very least, he could continue to hide the existence of the catacombs from Nerun by offering disinformation.

“Oh, I see. You want me to report any behavior that might jeopardize our god’s return?”

“Indeed. And not just inside the camp, but outside it as well. I love my people and we have always maintained the faith, but in times of stress, they, too, could be led astray.”

“And why me?” Tyler asked, curious.

Nerun smiled brightly. “Because you know more about my city than I do. You are out exploring, meeting new people and seeing new things. I, on the other hand, am trapped by my office and duty to the church.”

Tyler knew a lot about Malane, but not as much as he wanted. Like, what else was hidden in this temple?

“I don’t expect you to do this without reward, Samil.” Nerun looked fatherly as he smiled.

“I need no reward, Grand Pretarch, I am more than willing to help my church in times of need.”

“Of course you are, but I insist.” He took out a small piece of parchment from his desk and scribbled something on it. “Take this to the large building behind the temple and tell them you need to speak with Nahash.”

“But … I … ”

“Don’t worry, Samil, I am merely extending one of my residences to you while you are in the city. I hope we can expect you often with news from the camps, and while you are here, you can enjoy my own personal services.”

Nerun handed Tyler the paper. He wasn’t sure what to think of this turn in events. The Grand Pretarch wanted him to spy, and in return, he could enjoy his hospitality while in the city. It was strange he should pick Tyler, though stranger things had happened. Still, something was odd.

Tyler rose from his chair. “Thank you, Grand Pretarch, I don’t know what to say. I will keep my eyes and ears open.”

“Splendid, then let’s say we see each other at least once a week, if possible.” Nerun extended his hand, and for a moment, Tyler thought he wanted him to kiss it. Instead, he shook the hand lightly before leaving the room.

Naran still waited patiently outside the door to escort Tyler back out of the temple. As they made their way to the large building behind the temple, he couldn’t help but wonder how he always seemed to get into these positions. He’d wanted to escape the trappings of Poolto, but now he was caught once again in the web of politics. The problem was he had no idea whose side he was on.

* * * *

Tyler debated whether he should tell Slimsa about his talk with the Grand Pretarch but ultimately decided he would gain more from Slimsa than from the religious leader. Fortunately the accommodations in Malane were exemplary, especially the female servants who took care of his every need. Well, almost all his needs—he still relied on Lesil to satisfy the carnal hungers.

Still, working for Slimsa had far more perks and far less down side. At least Slimsa knew Tyler was tainted goods, therefore, Tyler didn’t need to put on airs when around him.

When Slimsa learned of Nerun’s interests in the camps, he smiled his devious grin, and Tyler spotted a glint in his eyes as the man thought through the possible advantages this might provide.

Tyler told him about the technology he’d uncovered and how he thought it might be readily changed into weapons if they felt there was a genuine threat. Slimsa waved off Tyler’s concerns as he questioned who would take up such weapons, assuming they were created. Tyler had no ready response as it seemed unlikely the Pretares and Pretarchs of Malane were capable of such an act. They were a peaceful people in a peaceful environment. It would be hard for them to muster the deep passion to yield a weapon and strike down a fellow man.

Since Tyler didn’t care one way or another, he let it drop. He had his own concerns and settled himself to the task of wasting what little life Samil had left. Each day, old age settled deeper into his body, ravaged by the demands he placed upon it. He figured he’d only a year or two left and decided he would live them to the fullest before seeking another lost soul to take Samil’s place.

His addictions and erotic pleasures consumed the last bit of humanity he had. He no longer cared about Joriss, Malane, the planet, or anything that stood in his way of the pleasures he set himself to enjoy. Even Slimsa began to eye him suspiciously when he was so obviously within the grips of his addictions. Tyler no longer waited for nightfall before making his escapes into the dark underworld that had become his home.

He and Lesil remained constantly wasted and freely enjoyed each others company regardless of where they were or who they were with. This began to make his occasional trips to the city much harder to endure, but he’d promised Nerun and Slimsa, so he made the voyage enjoying the Grand Pretarch’s hospitality, despite its celibate nature.

Tyler began to suspect Nerun grew suspicious of his reports. It would be simple for Nerun to employ other spies to help him discover what was truly happening, and perhaps he already had and was simply testing Tyler’s loyalties. Since Tyler was usually sober on these trips, he grew apprehensive and paranoid he might be detained when Nerun no longer believed the lies he reported.

Meanwhile, Slimsa applied more pressure to uncover the true nature of the temple and its technology. He even went as far as asking Tyler to steal some of the technology so they could study it to duplicate its designs. Tyler adamantly refused on several grounds, the least of which it being too large to easily conceal on such a long journey back.

Slimsa was not deterred and asked Tyler to provide intelligence they could use to mount a raid on the city resulting in the acquisition of the technology. Although Tyler strongly urged them not to take on such a mission, Slimsa was enamored with the possibility of taking over Malane. Thousands of years of peace and prosperity would soon come crashing down around them. The rest of the natives were restless, and Slimsa was bent on leading them in a revolt.

Tyler had no way of knowing whether they could succeed, but he grew more aware of the increasing unrest within the camps. Not only were the religious men growing weary of waiting for their god, they grew envious of the world they saw around them—a world thriving and enjoying everything they’d been denied.

Many of the residents living near the camps spread rumors of unrest and asked Nerun and the council for a solution to keep order in their slice of paradise. This made it more difficult for Tyler to mislead Nerun, so he began admitting unrest but smoothed it over with lies of administrative concerns. Bathing and basic sanitation were becoming a problem, and Tyler tried to deflect the suspicions to only those concerns. He hoped his lies worked, but thus far, nothing significant indicated Malane was preparing a response.

Nerun was a closed book, and with his disarming charm, and casual attitude, it was difficult for Tyler to understand what the man was thinking. Tyler suspected he knew more than he was revealing. Well, Tyler knew more as well, and tried to keep his own collusion and knowledge just as secret. It was a new game, one that Tyler didn’t want to play, but was caught in nonetheless.

More than once, Tyler had asked Nerun about Gamel and the truth of his return. Unfortunately, Nerun deflected these questions by spouting nonsensical religious statements which neither confirmed nor denied the existence of their god. The last time, he had simply stated, ‘The believers shall be rewarded for their patience.’ Tyler never pressed further but suspected Nerun knew more about this pilgrimage than he revealed.

Perhaps Slimsa and the others were right, and Gamel would not return. If that happened, civil war was inevitable, and Nerun was trying to work out how to avoid it. Tyler had once tried to peruse the library for information on the return of Gamel, but all the literature that was available was filled with vague promises and dire predictions. If text existed that outlined the details of his return, the church kept them under lock and key. For all Tyler knew, the hidden parts of the temple were a vast library of real scripture predicting the times they were in.

Tyler imagined several passages foretelling specific events that signaled the beginning of the return. Perhaps those events had not happened and the church was confused by the lack of signs. Each time Tyler spied on the council, the agitation and questions about Gamel grew vociferous and not easily denied. Was the planet about to rip itself apart? Would Gamel return?

Tyler grew weary of such conflict after his rampage through the Universe. Was death and destruction the only truth in the Universe? He remembered Thosolan’s planet of elephant people. It was idyllic, peaceful, and prosperous. Their religion had seemed so simple and basic, and their lives so serene and perfect. They had lived on a perfect world, balanced between the harshness of an active planet and the sterility so common among the stars. Tyler understood why Thosolan had been so proud of that accomplishment despite the fact they did not worship him.

Was that it then? Was the difficulty of creating perfection the flaw that caused the upheavals that were a regular part of conflict? Was survival the true driver in the Universe? Perhaps survival was the only reality of evolution. The harsher the conditions, the harsher the population. But how did that explain Gamel? Across the entire planet, except within the mountains, it was a harsh world, but the people lived with peace for thousands of years without government or conflict. Were religious beliefs be so strong that they commanded loyalty where people were willing to put survival on the line?

Everything about this world was strange and it did not fit into the Universe Tyler thought he knew. But now, on the supposed eve of their god’s return, they were on the brink of joining the rest of the Universe in the violent clash of survival. It would get ugly, it would get deadly, and in the end, only an iron fist would rule this world.

Tyler thought about leaving, but his addictions forced him to stay. He could not give up the pleasures he enjoyed despite their destructive nature. He was destroying his mind, his body, and his soul, but he could not stop. Like the world around him, peace would end and only pain would replace it. This beautiful valley would turn into a burning cauldron of chaos as people selfishly looked out for their own needs, killing those who stood in their way. Like Tyler, this city would die.

These depressing thoughts haunted him as he returned from a short trip to the mountain grotto. Although the perneem and sexual release under the waterfall was a powerful experience, it no longer satisfied his hungers as he searched for more ways to fill his lust. He’d left the two women at the grotto unsatisfied but didn’t care as his own desires were all that mattered.

The dark thoughts of Malane followed him down the mountainside and into the verdant valley. As he marched along the polished roadway leading back to the camps, he took a handful of mountain flowers and ate them casually. He no longer wanted to be in this reality and sought to replace it with something distant and dreamy.

As the mountain flowers took hold, he giggled at the pretenses that troubled him earlier. He thought about Nerun, the man who did not understand the civil unrest his religion was bringing to their city, and Slimsa who would be emperor without understanding anything more than the drug and prostitution trade. They were all silly and Tyler laughed out loud as he stumbled down the road in a purple haze of idyllic scenery.

It was like walking through a Vincent van Gogh painting of pastoral fields swaying strangely to an unknown breeze. The ground bent and buckled in unusual ways making Tyler miss steps as he tried to avoid the mysterious depressions suddenly appearing. All the while, he laughed out loud as the mountain flowers distorted the awful reality of Gamel into the surreal reality of a dead painter.

Deep inside, he knew he was losing it and laughed even louder at his predicament. He laughed as he looked at his own life from a distance, like an outsider peering through a window in time. Wasn’t that what he was, a stranger peering through these worlds like a peeping Tom? He was an Onyalum bent on destroying that which could not be destroyed. He laughed louder, bending over as the panicked humor became pain.

He stood on the roadway surrounded by the flowing fields. No houses or people were near as he fell to the ground, hysterical tears pouring forth from several lifetimes of pent up emotions. He was breaking down and could not stop the rollercoaster as life and his existence fell into pieces he no longer understood or cared about. Was the mountain flower causing his unease? Maybe he was dying and this was Samil’s mind attempting to hold onto the life Tyler had unnaturally extended.

He got up from the roadway and tried to slow the laughter to continue his trek towards the camps. The hysteria subsided, but the surreal hallucinations remained. A part of Tyler drifted in and out of reality while the remainder stared blankly at the flowing colors around him. He was lost and would never be found. How had a lowly drug dealer from Los Angeles come to this? Lost on a distant planet, hysterical, and on the verge of ending a life he would only replace with another in a long chain of hopelessness and suffering.

He rounded a bend and spotted the houses at the edge of the camp. On the roadway, a great activity was unfolding, and he felt as if he sat on a couch watching it through a television set, off-color, in purple. People scurried into the camp and several passed Tyler from behind as he stood silently, a corpse among the living.

A young Pretare from Malane came up from behind and took Tyler’s arm as if to help him. “Have you heard the news? Gamel is about to return. We all must hurry to see his arrival!”

Tyler stared into the man’s eyes and tried to register what he was saying.

Gamel is returning?

Like the world around him, the words were unreal and Tyler couldn’t grasp the man’s urgency. Still, he smiled and let the man lead him through the camp to the great amphitheater overflowing with thousands of people flocking to the enormous pit. Tyler flashed back to glimpses of concerts he’d seen in nearly the same state of mind. People pushed and scrambled as they sought seats for the show.

Tyler laughed out loud startling the young man who was leading him. The man turned to stare at Tyler, but Tyler was suddenly swept away from him as a surge of the crowd carried him like a river towards the edge of the amphitheater. No one paid attention to the laughing old man who was out of his mind, lost in the milling crowds. What else would they expect when their god was on the verge of returning?

A small part of Tyler wondered what was really happening. Was Gamel really going to return or was Nerun trying to defuse the crisis? He drifted through the crowd, stopping at the edge of the opening. Through the electric haze of hallucinations, Tyler gazed across the amphitheater now packed with people from both the camp and the city. All buzzed with excitement as they stared at the large, empty stage.

Tyler’s mind drifted to the catacombs below and wondered about Slimsa, Lesil, and the rest of the entourage. Were they still underground? Were they oblivious to what was happening above them or did they surface to see what the excitement was? Tyler laughed again. What if Gamel caught them in his place of worship? What would happen? He laughed, imagining an angry god smiting them. It brought on a strange comic book feel to the unfolding scene.

Tyler was lost in the mountain flower and would be for hours, but he stayed to watch this marvelous of marvels. The people around him ignored the strange laughter and unusual movements as he stared as if at a circus. His mind wandered to thoughts of a show Gamel would surely put on including fireworks and magic. That was what these people needed, a magic show.

He laughed once more, his own thoughts drifting on a wind of comedy. Even the faces around him appeared comical. He tried not to laugh directly at them, but his attempts to hide the laughter came out as snorting between fingers. Was he the only one seeing the humor in this? He wanted to scream at them, ‘What is wrong with you, lighten up!’

The sun descended below the western mountains, and Tyler laughed as he thought of a giant turning a light switch to dim the daylight and set the proper mood. The crowd grew hush in the twilight as a murmur spread through the amphitheater. Tyler couldn’t make out the chant, but it sounded like a single word from the ancient language.

He tried to focus on the word, but the mountain flower made the chanting hum and throb in strange, rhythmic ways. Tyler was caught in the sound, swaying to the rhythms in a trance. He smiled broadly as the chanting carried him to new heights of surrealism. He was like an Onyalum floating above the amphitheater, the crowd waiting for him to descend to the stage and perform the miracle of possession.

In his mind, he heard the sound of an announcer, ‘Ladies and gentlemen, for your viewing pleasure, the great and powerful Tyler—Onyalum extraordinaire!’ He felt the applause as the crowd welcomed him into their presence. He laughed out loud at the strange and bizarre show within his hallucinations, blending with the real world. The purple currents of his fantasies lifted him higher and he laughed louder as the out of body experience made him ready to dance on the stage to entertain the thousands waiting for the show.

The chanting brought him back to the edge of the precipice and he steadied himself against a person next to him who looked ready to push him to the ground.

“Thank you, young man, I am in … debted.” Tyler laughed again as he realized he had spoken to the shocked Pretal in English. The man pushed him away and Tyler sat hard on the ground as people moved out of his way. He continued laughing as angry faces stared down in disbelief someone could be so callous when their god was to return.

Tyler pointed at them laughing. “I … I have met a god you know?” He snorted again, but wasn’t certain he’d said it in either the ancient tongue or the tongue of the desert. “Nice, he was.” He struggled to regain his feet, but fell back in a fit of hysteria.

Crawling to the top row of seats, he struggled to pull himself over the top as a startled young woman moved out of his way. Tyler lurched over the top and fell hard.

“’scuse me, my dear, I must sit for a bit.” He laughed as her startled face turned to horror at the thought some old man was in such a state. “You’re a pretty one, aren’t you?” He leered suggestively as the girl turned and fled.

He nudged the man next to him who tried to ignore his attentions.

“Wasn’t your date, was she?” He laughed at his own joke and noticed the people around him giving him more space in the row.

The chanting continued and those who could ignore Tyler began to take up the sound. Tyler once again tried to decipher the cryptic word or words within the chant, but could only come up with dancing door which made no sense. He laughed as he pictured a door swaying to music.

The purple haze covered the now darkened amphitheater and Tyler cheered as torches around the stage mysteriously ignited. This new outburst brought renewed angry stares from the people around him, but so far, no one dared confront him. He laughed at their fear and watched the stage, waiting for the show to begin.

He didn’t have to wait long as various attendants filed from the back of the stage. Tyler half expected to see Slimsa and all the prostitutes with them from the catacombs. Perhaps the whores would perform a strip tease. Tyler laughed again, wouldn’t that be a spectacle at a religious congregation.

The chanting continued as the attendants took up positions ringing the main pulpit. Was this it then, was Gamel going to appear? Tyler waited quietly with everyone else. The chanting stopped and the amphitheater grew eerily quiet despite the thousands of people. Tyler felt a strange impulse to laugh or scream something out loud, but he was just able to control himself.

He waited breathlessly for the sparking lights and grand entrance of a god, but instead, Nerun walked from behind the stage to take the pulpit. Damn! Tyler thought, he’d so wanted to see a god. He felt like booing, but held his tongue to see what happened. Perhaps this was where Nerun would tell them Gamel didn’t really exist. He snickered quietly at the thought.

Nerun stood at the pulpit staring into the hushed crowd. The quiet was a dull roar in Tyler’s mind and he struggled to keep himself still. He watched as his vision of Nerun shimmered and pulsed to the strange music of the mountain flower. What would he do, Tyler thought? A game show? A musical? No, he had it! They would have a talent show with all the Pretarchs from the council. He snickered again, barely able to keep it to himself as a vision of an old Pretarch juggling ancient texts from the library sprang to mind.

Nerun finally spoke into the quiet. “The day we have waited these five thousand years has finally arrived.” He paused to let the import of the words sink in. “Brothers and sisters, it has not been easy. We have sacrificed and fought to remain faithful, and now our faith will pay off as our God returns to bring us health and prosperity.”

Tyler laughed inwardly as he realized Nerun had never sacrificed anything in his life. What sacrifices had the citizens of Malane made over that time? It was the desert people who had suffered during those thousands of years. He once again felt the urge to boo.

“Unfortunately, on this day of celebration and reward, we have uncovered sinful, unfaithful, dirty people hiding within our midst. They have defiled our God’s land with their filth, and polluted our people with their lies and abuses.”

As Nerun continued to speak, Tyler watched naked men and women, chained together, marching in a single line from behind the stage. Tyler couldn’t believe it as he spotted Slimsa, Meramses, and Lesil among the others. He held back a laugh as he watched them march bare naked onto the stage behind Nerun.

“Behold these sinners who have brought nothing but shame to our Holy City on the eve of our God’s return.”

Tyler was entranced by the spectacle. What would they do with them? Would they kill them in front of these thousands of people, or merely parade them around for all to see. They didn’t have jails, so how was sin punished?

Tyler saw real fear on their faces, except for Slimsa and Meramses who stared defiantly at the crowd. The other men cowered under the glare of the people, and the women cried behind their hands as they tried to shield themselves from scrutiny.

“… but these are not the only sinners in our midst. There are others out there among you even now, hiding their cowardice and deceit. These on the stage are but the providers of the sinful pleasures that ensnared our fellow brothers and sisters.”

Many eyed Tyler suspiciously, and he glared back with the same intensity. To hell with you all, he thought wildly, just try and take me!

“Fear not, my people, for they shall all be punished by the hand of Gamel.” As he said the words, five large, dark creatures came out from behind the stage. They walked on all fours and the sight of them instantly chilled Tyler.

He stared at the horrible saythers walking slowly and casually toward the now screaming men and women. Their red eyes glowed with an evil menace as they spied the helpless prey clinging to each other for protection. Even Slimsa and Meramses looked scared as the realization of their punishment took hold.

Tyler and everyone in the crowd took a deep breath, stunned by the vision of these nightmares. Everyone knew the outcome, but none could look away as the horror sprang into action. Each of the saythers pounced on one of the persons while the others tried to flee as far from them as possible. They pinned their victims to the hard stage and stood over them triumphantly, teeth grinning at the others who screamed in horror at the realization they were next.

The squirming people beneath the clawed feet begged for forgiveness, their screams echoing off the quiet, stunned crowd. Slowly, painfully, the saythers raked claws across the backs and fronts of their victims as they screamed a blood curdling sound sending Tyler’s hair on end. He’d seen this before and wanted desperately to turn away. But he couldn’t. His mind was transfixed on the rending of these poor, naked souls whose only crime was wanting more than the pitiful life they’d had.

Parts flew across the stage as claws ripped and tore at the screaming people who quickly became nothing more than shredded stumps drowning in their own blood. Finally, the saythers silenced the cries, sinking sharp fangs into what was left of the helpless bodies.

Some of the chained women fainted from the gruesome sight, while others pleaded with Nerun to spare them. Tyler heard cries within the crowd as people watched family members torn to shreds by the horrible creatures of their nightmares.

They quickly dispatched the remaining victims as Nerun, his back to the scene, ranted on about Gamel and the faithful. The stage became a bloody mess of body parts and flowing blood spilling over the side onto the people in the lowest levels.

A crack of thunder ripped overhead and it startled everyone into terrified silence. The nighttime sky closed around the amphitheatre as menacing clouds swirled and formed overhead. Tyler saw lightning raking the valley around them as the storm grew into a dark, roiling mass. Miraculously, no lightning struck the crowd now mesmerized by the change in atmosphere.

Tyler finally began to believe Gamel was returning, and he was scared at the prospects of meeting a god who cared so little for its people. Would they know he had helped the bloody mess on the stage? Would the saythers sniff him out and turn him into hamburger like the others?

He felt like running, but was glued to his seat. Where could he run that the saythers and a god could not find him? He could barely hear the sound of Nerun’s voice over the howling storm. Surprisingly, the people were spared the hurricane winds blowing the clouds into an angry mass of sparks and sound.

Tyler stared upward waiting for the strike that would finally end his charade. Instead, the black wispy smoke of saythers descended like a dark rain of death. They came in the hundreds, and people screamed as they landed in the crowds turning into the horrible black creatures of claws and teeth.

Nerun tried to calm the people, but the saythers were shredding bodies and spraying blood into the stunned crowd trying to flee the horror around them. Tyler noticed the saythers were particular about who they killed. They were picking people from the crowd, and it didn’t appear random.

Tyler recognized several men who had regularly visited the catacombs as they were torn limb from limb by the dark angels of Gamel. A large sayther brushed past Tyler as it pounced on a man several rows below him. Tyler knew this was it, it would kill the man below before turning back to kill him. But it didn’t turn. Instead, it sprang at a young woman trying to climb over the people around her.

The sinners know who they are! Tyler thought numbly as the gruesome scene continued unabated. Thousands were being killed and Tyler suspected many of those had never been to the catacombs at all. Those sinners were no more than a few hundred Tyler had partied with. What other sins did they harbor? He thought back to the cavern and realized how many were addicted to the drugs and sex they’d provided.

He thought about the villages and wondered if those people were also under assault by saythers? Did all the sinners on the planet have to die? What would be left if they were all killed? The people of this world had been dying before, who would be left to start a new civilization for Gamel?

Why not me? The thought drifted through his mind. Surely they knew of his sins, and if not his, then Samil’s. His had been a long life of debauchery. Tyler remembered the incident in Perneer and thought about what the sayther had said. ‘Gamel wants you.’ What did that mean? Did the god know he wasn’t Samil? Thosolan had easily seen into Tyler’s mind and had captured glimpses into the life he’d lived on Earth. Why not Gamel?

Real fear gripped Tyler. The wrath of a god was not something he had been looking for. He knew his Onyalum spirit could not be killed, but the flesh could be tortured. He thought about killing himself and fleeing into the Universe, but he could see no way to accomplish that. People pushed and screamed on all sides of him as they moved away from the nearest carnage.

Tyler was trapped and would have to await his fate with the rest. The bloodletting went on for what seemed like hours before all that was left was a dazed and confused crowd drenched in blood. Tyler glimpsed the stage through the confusion and saw Nerun standing coldly while his people were slaughtered mercilessly.

Tyler wondered what went through his mind. Had he imagined his god’s return being so violent and destructive? Was he privy to the workings of a god?

As the horror finally abated, the saythers turned into smoke, ascending into the now placid clouds overhead. The smell of blood and death filled the amphitheater among the crying shock of the remaining people. They picked themselves up and tried to clean themselves off as best they could. Tyler was dazed, covered in blood and certain his own death was near.

A light shone through the clouds as a spiral tornado of flame descended into the amphitheater. The flames spun through the stunned crowd, but their screams were silenced by the deafening roar of the fire engulfing them. Tyler felt the heat as flames whipped over his body, but they were soothing and calming.

He smelled dead flesh as it cooked in the wild inferno. He barely saw the stage through the torrent of fire, but Nerun stood calmly behind the pulpit his hands outstretched toward the sky, eyes closed. Was this his doing? Tyler thought dully. Did he really have these powers or was he calling down the wrath of Gamel?

People held their hands out to ward off the flames, but no one was burned in the fury. The fire was cleansing the bloody mess of sinners while sparing the true believers. But I’m not a believer. Tyler couldn’t figure out why he was still alive.

The flames grew whiter and more intense as they spun through the amphitheater at speeds that should have torn a mountain apart. But as quickly as they had come, they roared into the clouds and disappeared. The sky grew clear and the sun rose over the eastern mountains. Had night really come and gone so quickly? Tyler couldn’t believe it, this was surely magic.

The crowd stared at each other and the sun in disbelief. Not only was the bloody mess gone, but their clothing had been transformed from the shimmering robes of Malane into the golden robes of the new world. Even Tyler’s glowed with the light of those who’d been spared by their god. But he feared it was not yet over.

A voice broke through the crowd and everyone turned back to Nerun, also in robes of gold, as he stood at the pulpit talking.

“… and this newly cleansed world shall be yours in which to flourish. You have held the faith my people and your God shall richly reward you for your sacrifices.”

Tyler watched as the Pretarchs around Nerun seemed to sway and move to an unseen force. As Nerun talked, each of the Pretarchs grew large and distorted. What was happening?

“… because it has been so long, we have forgotten. What does our God look like, what visage shall we set our eyes upon today.”

The Pretarchs reformed into large, dark saythers. They were dressed in the golden robes of the new world. The crowd watched stunned as even Nerun transformed into the hellish creature that sent fear into their hearts.

“Behold your God Gamel!” Nerun boomed to the stunned followers.

His body was three times larger than the diminutive Nerun, but Gamel looked regal and frightening in his gold robes against the dark black fur. His teeth were as prominent and threatening as any of the other saythers. However, his eyes did not glow a deadly red that still haunted Tyler’s dreams. Instead, his were a deep gold standing out in stark relief to his black visage.

“Bow before your God that he may bestow his praises and blessings upon you.”

In unison, the quiet and stunned crowd knelt on the ground their heads bowed low in the humbling presence of their God. Tyler’s mind reeled with the implications and he hesitated in his remonstrations. Numbly, he realized his non-penitent position set him noticeably apart from the rest of the believers. He quickly scrambled to his knees and hid his face in his hands, hoping upon hope Gamel had not noticed his delay.

His mind, still feeling the surreal effects of the mountain flower, struggled to measure the implications of what he had just witnessed. He’d been reporting lies to this being, sitting in his office and making up stories about how his people were diligently waiting for his return. Meanwhile, he’d been working with Slimsa and the others spreading corruption and sin among those whose faith faltered during the delay in Gamel’s return.

How had Gamel not seen through his ruse? Perhaps he had seen through it and was simply testing Tyler to discover his allegiance. But if that were true, how come he had survived the bloodshed? If Gamel knew Tyler was involved, why had he been spared the gruesome death? It didn’t add up, and that made Tyler even more concerned. What if Gamel knew he was an Onyalum? What punishment would he dish out then?

Tyler didn’t know what a Creator could really do to an Onyalum, but he remembered the angry voice of the Creator pleading with the Universe for retribution. Of course, now that he thought back to that incident, he realized it had been Adanni the god had been angry with. What had Adanni done to invoke such wrath? Was simply taking over the life of one of their creations enough to warrant such vindictiveness? It seemed unlikely. Then again, if the result was something like Poolto, Tyler understood.

He was trapped. Nothing would hide him from a god. Well, nothing short of escaping into the Universe. But he was trapped in Samil, and only death could free him from the earthly bonds. Was that it then, suicide? He’d done it before, but where and how could he commit such an atrocity amid these avid followers? He had nothing to overdose on, and there were no great cliffs nearby to plunge down. Perhaps Gamel was going to spare him until after the completion of his triumphant return. If that were the case, Tyler might yet have time to kill himself before facing the wrath.

Tyler looked up as Gamel, arms outstretched, soaked in the chanting of the Prayer of Return from his followers. Could he slip out unnoticed? He didn’t think so. The sayther’s behind Gamel were eyeing all parts of the amphitheater as the chanting continued. They moved out from behind Gamel and made their way up and around the outside of the amphitheater. This caused Tyler more distress. They would definitely block any escape attempt. Tyler had no illusions he could not outrun such a being.

As the chanting drew to an close, Tyler watched a glowing sphere of light descend from the sunny sky, stopping just above Gamel’s outstretched hands. Finally the prayer ended and Gamel, quiet at first, but gaining in strength, chanted in some unknown language. The ball of light above him pulsed in unison with his chanting and intensified in strength. Tyler didn’t know what it was, but the effect was more godlike than anything he’d seen before. If there were others in the crowd who harbored doubts, they were now vanquished in the face of such power.

Finishing his chant, Gamel’s eyes and hands came forth toward the followers who waited with indrawn breath. The pulsing light above him shot arcs of light in all directions, striking each of the people in turn. Their bodies arched back as if in pain, but their faces wore an expression of disbelief and wonderment. Slowly the light started from the bottom of the amphitheater rising up each row as it drenched each person in its power.

Was this it, was this another chance to be uncovered for the fraud he was? The light rose higher and the people it touched were enraptured in its mysterious strength. Tyler closed his eyes and waited for it to reach his row. Whatever it was, it was impossible for him to evade, so he waited with clenched hands and shaking arms. His eyes closed as he felt the light wash over him.

Incredible warmth spread through his body, easing pains while massaging his spirit. He was refreshed and more alive than ever before. Even the effects of the mountain flower were washed away, and Tyler felt an incredible soberness that brought everything into a clear and concise focus. Inside, he felt the miracle light changing his physical body, taking away the disease that ravaged Samil, removing his addiction to perneem, and bringing about an incredible guilt for the shameful and sinful things he’d done since arriving in Malane.

He cried with sobering feelings of regret and noticed the transformation of his body as he wiped tears from his eyes. Samil was young again. Not just an old man repaired, but a real young man half his actual age. What had happened? He looked at the others around him who were also amazed at their renewed health, youth and vigor. It was a miracle, and many prostrated to their God with love and appreciation.

Tyler was confused. How could he receive these gifts from a god he had deceived? Did Gamel not really know his true and real self? It seemed impossible to believe, but how could he explain this transformation into a young, healthy man? He rose from his knees and relished the feeling of youth and innocence once again. Was he being given another chance? To live, like all those who had suffered for so long on this world? A part of him hoped it were true.

The light stopped and Gamel looked passively at his people as they marveled at his gift.

“Now, you shall be my army of faith to rebuild this world and bring blessings to all who have survived this day of reckoning. Your youth and vigor shall remain for as long as I rule upon this world. Use this health to repopulate and bring prosperity to my land.” Gamel raised his hands to silence all those talking about their new role as spiritual leaders.

For the young Pretals, the very notion they would repopulate the world was nothing short of a dream come true. For too long they had watched as their population became diminished and weakened by their poor lifestyles on the desert floor.

“I have more. Since I will no longer rule as your Grand Pretarch, I must elect a new one to take on this pivotal role. He will guide you in worship, help you rebuild your lands, and share with you my thoughts and blessings while you are back in your temples.” He pointed his left hand into the crowd and a body rose out of the multitude floating toward the stage. It landed softly next to Gamel, and the look on their face was one of incredulity.

As the man landed, he humbly bowed before his god.

“Rise, young Seram, Grand Pretarch of my world and my people.”

Tyler couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Seram? A knot formed in Tyler’s stomach as he thought about Seram and what he knew. If Gamel did not know about Tyler, Seram would surely turn him in and expose him for the sinner he was. He watched Seram rise from his knees to face the priests of his world.

“Thank you, my Lord, I will faithfully execute my position to bring praise and happiness to you and your followers.” Seram bowed his head toward the crowd in acknowledgement of the great task before him.

“I know you will.” Gamel placed a hand on Seram’s shoulder. “And you shall not do it alone. You will fulfill your role as spiritual leader while helping to populate this world with new leaders that can take your place when you step down.

Once again, Gamel raised his arm toward the crowd. As before, a body flew through the air toward the stage. As it landed on the other side of Gamel, the young woman immediately bowed before her god, crying.

“Young Joriss, I charge you to take this young man, Seram, as your husband that you may both enjoy each other and bring forth children to fill my world with the goodness and love you both have.” He placed his large hand beneath her chin and lifted her head to look into his eyes. The tears were visibly pouring from her eyes, but she stood as directed.

Tyler should have foreseen this. Now both the leaders of this world could expose him. He hid his face in his hands and closed his eyes, desperately thinking of a way to escape. Despite the refreshing new spirit bestowed upon him, he knew he couldn’t live in this land. He was an impostor and if they didn’t already know, they would soon find out. But how could he escape?

He lifted his head as he thought he heard Samil’s name called out from the stage. Fear took him as he felt his body lift into the air. He flew over the crowd toward the god and his protégés. He was powerless against the force holding him, even his arms would not move as he was gently set down next to Joriss.

The look on her face as she saw his youthful appearance was one of disbelief.

“Hello, Samil, did I not say this wondrous day would come? I owe my life to you and to Gamel, thank you for believing in me when I was lost.”

Tyler did not know how to respond, but he noted Seram was giving him a rather blank look. He supposed Seram was just as confused as he was about why he had survived the bloody death the other sinners had endured.

Tyler looked stunned at the thousands of eyes staring at him. “You’re welcome, Joriss.”

Though fearing what he would see, he glanced up at Gamel’s golden eyes, but read nothing threatening. Perhaps he would survive after all.

Gamel’s deep voice cut through the silence. “I, too, owe Samil my thanks as he was the mentor to my Grand Pretarch and father figure to my dear Joriss. Our world owes him a debt of gratitude for his efforts.”

Tyler shook his head slowly, unsure how to take this grand praise from a god that surely would destroy anyone who threatened his world. Tyler had no illusions he was not likely a god who would suffer an Onyalum in his midst. He stood silently as the crowd cheered their praise.

Gamel raised his hands for silence once more. “However,” he began slowly, and Tyler clenched, “Samil has also had a hard and difficult life. He lost his wife when she was giving birth to his only daughter. This loss was a painful reminder of the harsh world he and the rest of you had to endure in my absence.” Tyler kept waiting for the bad news, and he wasn’t disappointed. “Unfortunately, this pain caused Samil to stray from my good graces as his faith wavered under the appalling conditions of his life.”

Tyler heard the intake of breath at the admission of his wavering faith. He knew many out there could at least sympathize. He looked at Seram who continued to stare at him blankly. Tyler gave Seram a tight smile that said, ‘Gamel already knows of my transgressions’.

“Despite his wavering, he helped save Joriss not once, but twice. Recently, in her despair, Joriss took on the Trial of Gesh as she came to an impasse in her life. Although she survived this harsh trial, she was near death when Samil found her. He carried her to help, nearly sacrificing his own life in the process.” He grabbed Tyler by the shoulder and pulled him close in front of him. “For this, we can overlook his transgressions and give him another chance to show his love and faith to his god.”

Gamel looked down at Tyler with a toothy smile that was all wrong. He thought about where he was and realized he had never bowed when he had landed on the stage. What were the followers in the crowd thinking about someone who had clearly questioned his God’s power and now would not pay proper homage in his presence?

Tyler immediately sank to his knees before Gamel.

“Oh, thank you, Lord, I will not waver in my faith again. Your power and your love will sustain me as I help to rebuild your world.” Tyler hoped he sounded sincere.

“Rise, young Samil.” Gamel looked down upon him with what looked like pity. “I know you would have faith in me for the new life I have bestowed upon you.”

Tyler smiled weakly at the god and bowed his head.

Gamel spun him around to face the crowd and they erupted in applause at the obvious forgiveness of their god. Tyler couldn’t believe it himself.

Gamel kept one arm on Tyler’s left shoulder as he raised his other hand to silence the crowd.

“Good deeds should never go unrewarded, especially if they help to save another soul from hopelessness and sin.”

Tyler noted the reference to Joriss’s life before her transformation. How much did Gamel really know? Tyler was beginning to think he knew everything.

“Samil was a good man and his work shall not go unrewarded.”

Tyler perked up at the way Gamel had said that. Samil was a good man?

“Like those before him, he shall enjoy the benefits of Jurane with my blessings.”

What did he mean enjoy Jurane? Was he going to kill him and send him to heaven rather than keep him alive on this world? Did he think he was still too much of a risk to have him live with everyone else?

“Unfortunately, the man you see before you is not Samil.”

Tyler froze from the realization of those words. He felt pain as Gamel’s large claws sank into his shoulder, but he resisted the urge to flinch or pull away. He knew! Gamel knew he was an impostor!

The crowd grew hushed and Seram and Joriss moved away from this strange turn in events.

“Behold the visage of the Demon that has lived within your midst!”

Tyler began to shake as a sudden surge of power pulled at his Onyalum essence. He felt the million pieces of his spirit bucking and fighting against the force trying to separate it from its earthly host. How was this possible? His mind reeled with the implications. Could gods control Onyalum spirits? He thought back to Thosolan and realized how easily Thosolan had manipulated him by giving him a body to live in. He’d never thought much about it, but now he was terrified by the prospects.

His spirit was ripped from the flesh in a painful act, sending his mind near blackness. He saw the gray cloudlike essence separating from the flesh as it sprang from the body and back in again. Gamel’s hands held firmly as Tyler thrashed back and forth in the turmoil of the separation. In his mind, he let out a terrible scream as his world was pulled out from under him. He wasn’t sure if Samil’s body actually screamed, but he didn’t care. The torture was more than his mind could handle as he felt the final ripping of his soul from the flesh.

He felt the familiar rush as his spirit was released and Samil’s body fell to the ground a lifeless heap. The pain was very real and Tyler wondered how he could still feel despite being nothing more than an ethereal essence. He felt, or maybe it was sensed, Gamel’s hand as it held him in place. He tried to escape, tried to transition far from this world and its vengeful god. But he could not move from the grasp Gamel had on his soul.

“This is the evil that has permeated my lands and spread vile disease that led others away from my love and my blessings. This is the Demon that has turned so many away from their God and toward the sinful pleasures of the flesh.”

Each time Gamel spat out a nasty adjective, Tyler felt a surge of electric pain shoot through him. It burned and threatened his consciousness and he felt helpless against this powerful being.

Gamel moved forward as he held Tyler’s spirit to the side. “Fear not, my people, for I have removed this threat and it shall no longer bother this world.”

Tyler felt one last surge of power before everything turned black.

* * * *

Tyler felt the familiar rush as his essence once again took over flesh. It took a moment, but he finally opened his eyes. The pain from Gamel lingered, and Tyler cautiously rose from the ground as fear threatened to overwhelm him.

The room was completely white. The walls, the floor and the ceiling were barren, yet a persistent light filled the room casting shadows to help define the space. There were no doors or windows, so Tyler felt like he was back in the vast whiteness where he’d met the Universe.

He stared around dumbly, realizing the body he possessed was his original self—the human Tyler. Despite his human physique, the clothing was that of a Pretal. Tyler couldn’t see his own face, but the tall thin body of a human felt strange after the short, squat Samil.

There was no way in or out, he was trapped. But where was he and why was he still alive? Considering the power Gamel could wield, he felt certain the god could destroy him. A part of him wished he would.

A deep voice broke through the whiteness.

“Death is too good for one such as you.”

The wall facing Tyler disappeared, and he stood facing a long white room with strange beds filled with lifeless bodies. The beds stretched along the right-hand wall for some distance, and the view was disturbing. Who were they and why were they here?

Gamel materialized in front of Tyler with a broad grin baring sharp white fangs.

“Where am I?” Tyler asked boldly, assuming it couldn’t get worse.

“Ah.” Gamel smiled wide, the toothy grin in juxtaposition to the pleasant laughter he purred. “You are in one of my creations—one I am extremely proud of.”

With his laughter filling the air, Gamel transformed into Nerun.

“You are not like any of the Onyalum I have. There is something different about you … something I can’t quite put my finger on.” He raised his index finger as if to demonstrate the comment. “What do I call you? Tyler? Adanni? River Red? Mestopha? Nayllen?” He paused to watch Tyler’s reaction, but Tyler remained motionless. “No matter, you demons never attach yourself to a name anyway. For now, I’ll call you Nayllen, Destroyer of Worlds.”

Tyler winced at the title. Did Gamel see completely through him?

“My name is Tyler, and I am not a demon.”

“Ah, it speaks!” Gamel smiled as he sat in a chair that appeared out of thin air. “Please sit down, Tyler.”

Tyler noted a chair now stood behind him. He took the seat and stared defiantly into the eyes of the god.

Gamel continued to smile menacingly, but looked less god-like in the diminutive figure of Nerun. With Tyler’s human form, he saw a real comparison of the size of the people of Gamel and humans. It was clear the people of Gamel averaged less than five feet in total height. It gave Gamel a less threatening appearance, and Tyler figured that was why he had taken the form.

“Of course, you are right, Tyler, I am taking this form to ease the tension you feel right now. And yes, I see through you completely. Of course, that is why I know you could not be a demon.” Tyler felt sarcasm dripping from Gamel’s words. “Still, there is something different about you, Destroyer of Worlds. Perhaps I should turn you over to Shanreh—he never recovered from the destruction of his galaxy.”

Tyler had to think for a moment. Who was Shanreh? Galaxy? Tyler had played a pivotal role in the destruction of Poolto, but he didn’t remember destroying a galaxy.

“I am sorry, but who is Shanreh?” Tyler felt stupid asking the question, but something didn’t mesh with his own experiences. He feared what the answer might be.

“Oh, my,” Gamel smiled hugely, “you don’t even take the time to learn the names of the Creators whose worlds you destroy?” He laughed, but it came out cruel. “Perhaps I shall acquaint you with him. With the anger he holds for you, my punishment would seem childlike.”

“Sorry,” Tyler said gloomily, “but I really don’t know who you are referring to. The only Creator I know is Thosolan.” Thinking of his name, he thought about trying to signal him for help, but knew after the way he had left him in the diner, it was unlikely he would come.

“Not just unlikely, but impossible, my friend.”

It was unnerving how Gamel read everything Tyler thought. Oh, well, no secrets.

Gamel’s expression turned serious and his eyes penetrated deeply. “Indeed, no secrets, Demon. I know everything about you since the day you took over Samil. I’ll grant you, Samil was no saint, but he didn’t deserve having you defile his body after he died that fateful night.”

“Was that you I saw in the boulder fields after his fall?” Tyler figured he might as well learn everything he could about this god. What did he have to lose?

“No, it was one of my many workers that keep tabs on my creations. They are my eyes and ears on Gamel, so I know most of what happens. She merely confirmed that Samil was mortally wounded, and after his miraculous recovery, it was simple to deduce why.”

Tyler had done the same thing to uncover the two Onyalum on Poolto. It was easy to find Onyalum, if you knew they existed.

“I didn’t do anything Samil would not have done himself.” Tyler knew the argument was lame, but he couldn’t stand by accused of something he could not control.

“Perhaps, but it was his body to defile, not yours.” Gamel stood up and walked toward the wall lined with the row of beds. “My creations are not yours to play with, Onyalum, and you’ll pay a high price if you are caught. You see, I discovered a long time ago how to control you. I do not know if I am the only Creator that has come to realize this power, but I know I am the only one who uses it.” He turned back toward Tyler, his hands behind his back. “You see, in a way, I am giving you what you want…adventure!”

Tyler was confused, what was he talking about? “I don’t understand. What adventure you will give me?” Tyler looked past Gamel to the table of bodies and felt uneasy.

“The pain and destruction you desire!” Gamel nearly spat it at Tyler.

“I do not want pain and destruction. That is what I am trying to avoid.” Tyler didn’t like how the conversation was evolving.

“Oh, really … River Red?”

Tyler had no defense. He had clearly wrecked havoc among the stars. Was this his day of reckoning?

“Don’t bother arguing the point, Demon, I have seen your type over and over again. You all want the same thing—to destroy that which we create. Nothing you say can change that fact.”

“But I am not an Onyalum!” Tyler was desperate. This god was condemning him for being the very thing he wanted to escape.

“No, Demon?” Gamel’s eyes pierced like an arrow. “Then what are you?”

“I am … I mean, I was a creation … like Samil … I am human!” He wasn’t sure how to describe his unique situation. “I am trapped inside this Onyalum … or have merged with him.”

Gamel looked him up and down. “You mean this ugly form before me is your real self?”

“Yes … I was once like Samil … I mean not a priest, but a creation of another Creator.”

Gamel looked dubious, but his stare lessened in intensity. “So you say. What Creator made you?”

“I … I mean I think his name was QeQulum, but I never met him.” Tyler vividly remembered the disembodied voice that had warned him about entering the Milky Way and its worlds.

“I do not know this name. However, that means nothing, there are more Creators than worlds I have created.” He walked back to his chair and sat down looking at the floor in thought. “Assuming you tell the truth, why should that change anything? You have violated my world and corrupted its people.”

Tyler knew he had no defense against his actions in Malane, but maybe he could receive forgiveness for his blind actions while addicted.

“They were corrupted long before I came here.”

“I see, and you expect forgiveness while you attack me with accusations?” Gamel laughed lightly. “I’ll grant you, you don’t appear as intelligent as the other Onyalum.”

“No … I mean … look, when you destroyed Perneer, you created the cult that preyed upon your world. When you turned the fields into dust, you turned the people against your love and forgiveness.”

“Not all my people! The ones with faith maintained their love and trust in my power to bring them life and prosperity. And for that, they will be generously rewarded.”

“Sure, and the ones who could not handle the pain and suffering your grand plan offered? Are they truly evil and must be destroyed?”

Gamel’s eyes turned bright gold and his body transformed into the giant sayther. His eyes stared down at Tyler like gold flames ready to ignite the room in an inferno.

“Don’t play word games with me, Demon, it is you that brings them pain and suffering! I offer them hope and salvation in exchange for turning away from their sins and embracing my love.”

Tyler tried not to cringe as the threatening beast towered overhead with teeth and claws ready to shred.

“This is the love you offer? The threat of death and bloody destruction unless they give you their faith?” Tyler wasn’t going to back down. “Love is given to those who give it back. You may think you punish your people like children who are unruly, but you actually torture them into loving you. Is that the love you really want—love me or else!”

Gamel hesitated and his form once again shrank into the affable Nerun. He took his seat and stared blankly at Tyler. “My wishes and my wants are no concern of yours, Demon. They are my creations and I will tend to them as I see fit.”

“Then why give them free choice if you only want to destroy them if they choose not to worship you? What is the purpose of that?” Tyler saw the god faltering in his anger and righteousness. “What have you really offered your people? Life in some mystical heaven called Jurane, or death in a bloody cataclysm of claws and teeth? Of course many chose you, why would they choose anything else? But is that truly free choice?”

“I give them life and prosperity, that alone should be enough to love and worship me.”

“Why? Should a parent expect each child to worship them simply because they provided life? What choice did the child have?” Brief glimpses of his parents flooded his mind. He had never worshiped them. In fact, he had despised them for the failure to provide a decent home for his siblings. “If you truly create them with free choice, then why can’t choosing to live without you be a valid choice without damnation? Is not letting them grow into whatever they choose the ultimate in free choice?”

“I have known Creators like you describe—they let their creations grow and evolve alone—without their interference. What then is the purpose if you cannot live among them and enjoy your creations?” Nerun stood and walked to the first table where a motionless body lay. “I am a Creator and I define what creation is and is not. I define what rules my worlds must live by and I do not need anyone or anything telling me I am wrong! What know you of free choice anyway, Onyalum? Do your victims choose whether to allow you to possess them after they have died? Do they choose to let you dishonor and defile their persons after they have left the bonds of fleshly existence?”

Tyler saw he was losing the battle. “No, they do not get to choose.”

“These are my worlds and I will govern them as I see fit! You, Demon, shall not stand in my way or defile them any longer.”

His body transformed into the giant sayther once more and his outstretched hand wielded the power to lift Tyler from his seat and slam him onto a newly formed table.

Metallic straps wrapped his body, and Tyler watched as the face of Gamel peered down through his spotted vision.

“Goodbye, Demon, I hope you enjoy the adventures I have created for you.”

The last thing Tyler saw was the blackness of Gamel’s face blending into the darkness enfolding him.

Paradise Lost

Tyler woke to a warm gentle breeze blowing in from an open door. Carried on the breeze, scents of ocean and Jasmine filled the room with a tropical atmosphere. It took Tyler a moment to realize where he was—Raul’s villa in Mexico.

He lifted his head from the pillow and looked out past the light shears hiding the crashing waves on the beach below. As he woke from the strange and disturbing sleep, he heard the rhythmic pulsing of ocean waves as he laid back, thanking the gods he was still on vacation.

Something haunted his dreams, but in the light of day, it seemed insubstantial and fleeting. Whatever it had been, sunshine and ocean air would take it away.

If memory served, he and Linda still had a couple months left before heading back to Los Angeles and the merry-go-round social scene that was their life. Once he’d traveled far from that lifestyle, his head became clearer and he began having doubts about returning to his previous life. They were simply having such a wonderful time. They’d rekindled the love and passion that had been lost over the years.

He pushed the sheet back and pulled on a robe to see about breakfast. He wasn’t surprised Linda was already out, she loved early morning walks along the beach. It was time she called, ‘an escape from the harsh realities of our world’. The walks weren’t the only change in Linda since they’d arrived in Mexico. She’d stopped using drugs and only drank infrequently. She was obviously taking Raul’s advice to dry out, something Tyler still struggled with. Raul’s villa was well stocked with wine, spirits, and the best cocaine and marijuana money could buy. With all these temptations, Tyler found it difficult to be sober. Besides, if he totally sobered up, he might have to make a real decision about his life.

Replacing those thoughts with the thrill of the pending day, he stopped by the bathroom to relieve himself and enjoy a small line of cocaine. He convinced himself it was just a pick-me-up until he could get coffee, but that was an illusion, the coffee was always ready when he went down to the kitchen.

Raul retained a wonderful full time chef named Maria Fuentes. She lived in the nearby village of Quanzipeco, but Tyler thought she never actually went home. She was there when they got up, and she was usually preparing a light snack before bed. Linda said she was a widow, so she enjoyed the villa more than her lonely house.

Tyler didn’t mind, her cooking was exceptional, and she had an uncanny way of fixing things Tyler hadn’t realized he was craving. This morning was no different as he walked into the kitchen to the smell of fresh coffee and huevos rancheros smothered in her homemade salsa. Although she claimed not to understand his desire for this dish, she served it nonetheless.

“Buenos días, Señora Fuentes.” Tyler smiled as he grabbed a glass of fresh juice.

“Good morning, sir.” She returned his smile as she practiced a thickly accented English. “Coffee?”

“Sí, gracias.” Tyler had tried to pick up a little Spanish since arriving, but he had to admit it was very little and didn’t support true conversation. However, it was sufficient to be polite.

He took his juice onto the veranda and looked over the Pacific Ocean. The sun was bright and warm, offsetting the cool breeze coming in off the water. High thin clouds were the only indication of weather, and Tyler smiled at the prospect of another day in paradise. This was the smartest thing he’d ever done, and it reinforced his need to move on to the next phase in his life.

Maria brought out breakfast with coffee, and when Tyler caught a whiff of the food, his stomach rumbled in anticipation. He was hungry, and even the cocaine couldn’t stem his appetite.

“Anyt’ing else, sir?” She waited patiently for instructions.

“No, gracias.” He replied appreciatively. “Oh, wait … Linda?”

“Sí, senor.” She said in acknowledgement while pointing to the beach below.

Tyler nodded as Maria went back to the kitchen.

He ate quietly as he thought about Linda and her changes. She obviously was evaluating her life and trying to make decisions about where to go next. It was the same dilemma he faced, but she appeared further ahead in the process. He’d put it off too long, but each day that passed in paradise made it seem less important. The exotic locale was lolling him into a false sense of normality, an illusion he understood too well.

Was it time for him to quit the drug trade and build a normal life? Could he quit? He realized his own addictions—he was an alcoholic and drug addict, and the thought of quitting made his skin crawl. What then of a family? Could he really raise kids while maintaining his active habit? The thought made him think about his own parents and the broken family they’d created. Would that be the end result if he tried? He thought it likely, but if he didn’t try, he knew Linda would leave him. That was the worst part of his indecision—losing the one thing he truly cared about.

He finished breakfast and sipped coffee before deciding to talk with Linda that night. If she were moving in that direction, he had to know before he made his own decisions.

* * * *

He spent most of the day poolside, and by the time the dinner hour rolled around, he’d put away five or six cocktails. He knew it was more than he should have before discussing life with Linda, but he couldn’t face the hard reality without some form of fortification. A couple of lines and a great shower, and he would be prepared for the tough conversation that lay ahead.

Linda remained quiet throughout most of the day, apparently she, too, was introspective. Tyler would have given anything to read her thoughts. What decisions was she making? He could guess she had little interest in returning to the hard life of the party scene. Her lack of interest in that area was likely permanent. Sobriety often brought clarity, and sometimes that was all you needed to make positive changes. Tyler only wished he could follow suit.

He showered the sun and sweat from his body and thought about what really held him back. Was it the addictions denying him a normal life, or was it the fear of failure. He was a successful drug dealer. He had money, drugs, power, friends, and a well established position in the well-to-do community.

But he knew the flipside of that success. Without his drug connections, his friends would abandon him in a heartbeat. The friendship was based on an economy of need, and without anything to trade, you were no longer useful and might even be a liability.

What job could he reasonably do outside the industry? Could he go back to school and try for another assistant manager position, working his way up the ladder to a middle management job in some mega corporation? He certainly had developed organizational skills and pipeline knowledge that might make him valuable, but he couldn’t easily list those on a resume. Though still quite young, he felt old and wasn’t certain he was up to the task of starting a new career. It would be hard, difficult, and expensive. California was not a cheap place to live, although their house was at least paid for.

Maybe they could leave California and settle somewhere else? The change in environment might make the change in lifestyle more bearable. But where would they go? He knew neither of them could last in the slow life of the Midwest, let alone the unbearable cold and hot weather. Wherever they decided, it would have to be warm. Texas? Florida? Unfortunately, he’d never been to either of those places.

He dried himself after the refreshing shower and felt even more confused. Perhaps a few lines, a glass of wine, and a wonderful dinner would help put a better spin on his situation. Either way, he’d feel better.

He donned comfortable, loose fitting pants that tied at the front. Linda called them his karate pants, but he liked them nonetheless. Over that, he slipped on one of his many silk shirts with a pale green color and light print. It was the perfect outfit for a tropical evening. Although a real town was only thirty miles away, he could never justify eating out when they had Maria serving them such wonderful meals.

He slipped on a pair of leather sandals and went down to join Linda for appetizers and cocktails. He could already feel the coke clearing his drowsy alcoholic haze from earlier, and he felt more confident about speaking with Linda.

He passed through the kitchen, extending a compliment to the smells Maria was creating before grabbing a glass of wine and heading onto the veranda. The night was warm as the normally cool breeze from the ocean moderated the temperature. He was pleased and wanted to stay outside as long as possible.

The setting sun over the Pacific colored the sky and water with deep oranges and reds, and the high clouds from earlier dissipated, leaving the horizon a burning fire stretching as far as the eyes could see. It was a magnificent backdrop, and it filled Tyler’s soul with a renewed sense of purpose.

Linda sat comfortably in one of the cushioned lounge chairs, a glass of wine in one hand with her legs pulled underneath a brightly colored sun dress. The floral print glowed in the fading sunlight, and she looked more peaceful and serene than Tyler could remember. It was as if the sun created a halo around her, and for a moment, a strange sense of loss tugged at his heart. He choked back the feeling and wiped his eyes.

She was at peace, and for that brief moment, he admired her deep solitude. She was better than he deserved, and he felt a pang of guilt about meeting her and irreversibly changing her life. Hopefully, he could remedy that.

“Evening, honey, I see you are enjoying the spectacular sunset.” Tyler took a seat in another lounge chair.

She smiled warmly, the relaxed expression in her eyes giving Tyler the confidence he needed to start the conversation.

“I … have been thinking about our situation lately, and I thought we should discuss it … together.” He felt relief from the release. He took a sip of wine for support while she grabbed his hand.

“I agree.” She said casually, and Tyler relaxed. “You first.” She said playfully.

“Oh … yes … well.” He took another sip of wine and looked back at the house to ensure Maria was still in the kitchen. “I have been thinking maybe my current career choice is not stable enough for us to take our relationship to the next level.”

Her smile continued as she patiently waited to respond to Tyler’s admission.

Okay, he would have to spell it out. “I believe we could make a new life outside of the business, but it would be difficult and … trying.” He sipped nervously, flustered as he spotted the bottom of the glass.

Linda squeezed his hand gently, urging him on.

“I don’t know what I would do for a living, but I am certainly willing to try and change. We could even move out of LA … if that seemed like it would … help.” He stopped and decided to let her take it from there.

She released his hand and took a sip of wine. “I see,” she started gently, “and what about a family?”

“Fam … oh, yes, yes, I want us to start a family!” He couldn’t believe he had left that out. He knew her desire for children.

She eyed him deeply, suspicion on her face. “Hmmm.” Her eyes penetrated deeply, questions clearly filling her mind. “And what of your habits?”

He’d known he would have to face this question, especially since he himself wrangled with it, but he still had no answers. Could he stop? Did he really want to? A dreadful, hollow feeling ached in his stomach when he thought about giving up the substances that made life bearable. He wasn’t certain how he could let them go, so he lit a cigarette, stalling for time.

After a few drags, he decided to spell out the truth.

“I truly don’t know, Linda.” It was bad, but he knew himself well enough to know it would be a real battle—a battle she would have to play no small part in.

She turned away to the glowing horizon. “I see.”

It was not what she had wanted to hear, but he couldn’t deceive her.

“I … I really want to change, Linda, but I have to be realistic here. Even if I want to give it all up, and I am not sure I do, but assuming I did, then … I don’t know … I guess I am not sure how.” That was true enough.

She bowed her head in thought, and Tyler saw tears welling in her eyes. He held out a hand, but she did not take it. She pulled a tissue from her pocket and wiped the tears from her cheeks.

“Wh … I mean … what if you had a good reason to quit?” She stared once more into his eyes, her expression somber.

He drained the rest of his wine and leaned back staring at the distant glow of the skyline. What was she angling at? Would she leave him if he didn’t quit? That must be what she meant. If he wanted her to stay, he would have to give it up. He knew inside he couldn’t live without her, she was the only thing that made sense.

“Then … I guess I would quit.” He turned to watch the emotions in her eyes, his resolve honest. “I know I’ll need help.”

She smiled weakly. “I know, but I think you would find it less of a sacrifice than you believe.”

He frowned. “Maybe.”

She turned to the twilight and sipped quietly.

Was that it, she wasn’t going to say it unless he asked? “Why am I quitting?” He finally asked in as calm a voice as he could.

She ignored his questions, continuing to stare into the distance as if trying to pierce some mysterious veil hiding their future. Finally, she turned to him. “Because, you are going to be a father.”

She said it so calmly, Tyler took a double take before it fully registered. Father? That was what she had said, but he couldn’t believe it. How, was the first thing that came to mind. They used birth control regularly, so how could this happen?

“I’m … going to be a father?” Though he knew he sounded stupid, his mind struggled to catch up with reality.

“Yes.” She said warmly, the news obviously welcome to her.

“Bu … we … I mean you … I mean how?”

“Nothing is perfect Tyler, not even birth control.” She looked concerned by his reaction.

He snapped out of shock as he realized he was happy. He wanted to be a father, and if that meant changing his ways, he would find a way to make that happen.

He sat up and moved to her chair, squeezing in and holding her tight.

“That is the most wonderful reason you could have given me. I mean it, I am so happy for us—I love you, Linda.”

They held each other for some time before Maria interrupted them with appetizers and wine. Tyler refilled his glass, but Linda declined.

That was it then, he would have to find a way to change. First, however, he would have to find a way to tell Raul.

* * * *

The week following their great news was filled with some of the happiest times he could remember. Animated talks about how they would prepare the house, whether it was a boy or girl, and what names they would use for each sex filled the time that remained of their vacation.

Tyler saw true joy on Linda’s face and he knew he needed to take the next step to ensure their child was not born a bastard. He’d called Raul a day after finding out, and asked for advice on where to get an engagement ring in this part of Mexico. Fake jewelry was a common part of the tourist industry, and Tyler wanted only the best for Linda.

Fortunately, Raul assured him he knew of a private jeweler that made custom orders for the rich and elite of Mexico. After a few calls, Raul easily secured an order for Tyler. Raul even offered to pay for it, but Tyler assured him it was something he needed to buy himself. Raul graciously understood and congratulated him before offering to throw them a lavish wedding in Mexico before they returned to Los Angeles.

Tyler liked the idea of a wedding outside the Los Angeles scene, but he hadn’t wanted anything lavish. The problem was convincing Linda. He knew she would want to invite her family, regardless of the current state of their relationship. Would they travel to Mexico to see their daughter marry a person they despised? Tyler didn’t think so, but then life had a way of surprising you.

Tyler drove the last ten miles into town to pick up the engagement ring from a contact who was willingly receiving it for safe keeping. Even the postal service in Mexico had occasional problems with packages disappearing before they arrived. It was conveniently blamed on antiquated systems, but everyone knew it was workers taking advantage of lax security and a widespread corruption.

Tyler didn’t mind the side trip, it would help him decide how best to break the question to Linda. It was happening so fast, he wasn’t sure how to keep up. A wedding and a baby, all on vacation? He thought only Vegas could boast such an itinerary.

Tyler was jolted out of his musings as the vehicle hit a rough patch in the road. He was thankful he wasn’t in his car, the potholes could easily damage an undercarriage. Thankfully, Raul told him to take the villas’ four wheel drive as it was a known vehicle and less likely to come to harm.

Tyler was pleased he’d listened as he pulled into the outskirts of town. He followed the directions easily enough and parked outside a rather rundown building in an alley off the main strip. The location made Tyler nervous, but Raul assured him it was all perfectly safe.

He walked slowly to the rundown building and knocked on its only door. He waited for what seemed like an eternity before an old woman carefully opened the door.

“Sí?” She asked softly.

“Uh … oh, hello … I mean buenos días, señora—Señor Alvarez?” He hoped she didn’t try to start a conversation, he wouldn’t understand any of it.

“Sí…com’ in, señor.” Her English was as thickly accented as Maria’s, but at least he’d found the right place.

She led him through a richly appointed room to the back of the building. Tyler was impressed with the fashionable decorations and furnishings hidden inside such a decrepit building—opulence disguised by a destitute façade. Considering Raul’s line of work, Mr. Alvarez may have good reasons to keep his wealth low key.

They passed beneath an arched doorway into a brightly lit room illuminated by overhead skylights. A ceiling fan spun gently, bringing a cool breeze to the stagnant air. The woman gestured Tyler to sit before leaving quietly.

Tyler scanned the room, noticing a large Macaw sitting quietly on a perch surrounded by exotic plants. The bird eyed him as it bobbed its head up and down excitedly.

It screeched loudly before saying hello in perfect English.

Tyler was impressed, an English speaking parrot in Mexico? He smiled at the bird and responded in kind. “Buenos días.”

The bird bobbed its head again before whistling and responding. “No hablo Español.”

Tyler knew what that meant, the bird didn’t speak Spanish.

A deep voice cut through the strange conversation. “You’ll have to excuse Lolita, she is an American like yourself, and only speaks English. I rescued her many years ago in San Diego, and she has been an integral part of my family since.” Señor Alvarez moved toward the bird and stroked her head gently before offering her a treat. She eagerly accepted it before climbing to a higher perch to enjoy it.

“So, you must be Tyler?” Señor Alvarez held out his hand as Tyler got up from his seat. “I am Jesus Alvarez and it is a pleasure to meet an associate of Raul’s.”

Tyler shook the hand firmly. “The pleasure is mine, señor Alvarez.”

“Please, call me Jesus, and I will call you Tyler. There is no need to stand on ceremony with friends … or friends of friends.” Jesus signaled Tyler to take his seat.

“Yes, well, that would be welcome, Jesus.” Tyler sat down relaxed by the man’s accommodating nature. “A fine name I might add.”

Jesus laughed out loud. “Well, I doubt I live up to the original’s standards, but my mother is very religious, if not downright superstitious. Over the years, I have grown accustomed to it.”

Señor Alvarez’ mother came back in carrying a tray of cool drinks which she dropped off before disappearing once more. As she passed Lolita, the bird squawked loudly at the poor woman who waved a dismissive hand while muttering curses under her breath.

Tyler grinned at the strange interaction.

“Lolita does not share me easily with other women. I am most careful about bringing love interests into this part of the house. Between my mother and Lolita, it is a miracle I have a love life at all.”

Tyler laughed at the quip. He had to admit, he was growing fond of the older man. Tyler had never asked Raul what his association was with Jesus, but he understood why Raul would want someone such as this as a friend.

They sipped a wonderful glass of juice which Tyler surmised contained various assortments of citrus mixed with a distinctive papaya taste. It was very good despite its lack of alcohol.

Jesus put his glass down and grabbed a small wooden box from the stand next to his chair. As he opened it, Tyler saw various paraphernalia typically used with cocaine. In the middle, a large pile of the white substance beckoned.

“Would you care for some, my friend?” He asked Tyler as he brought out a mirror and razor blade to begin lining up two rails.

“Sure, that would be great.” Though Tyler was trying to keep his habits in check, he found it extremely difficult when supplies were so ample. At least Linda hadn’t yet pressured him to stop, but it was only a matter of time.

He graciously took most of the line and sniffed heavily to keep it from falling out. The effect was immediate, and Tyler felt a satisfying sense of elation. He thanked Jesus before leaning back in his chair.

Jesus was a man somewhere in his early forties, and he had the healthy, well groomed look of someone accustomed to money. He wore a tightly trimmed mustache and hair that was smoothed back to accentuate his balding head. Tyler thought a man of his years must be very confident if he so proudly wore his hair in such a way as to show off the bald pattern. He knew many men of wealth were usually vain, but not necessarily Hispanic men.

“This is a very comfortable home you have here, Jesus, thank you for your generosity.”

Jesus waved off the compliment as he took a joint out of his pocket and lit it casually. “This is my original home, and I suppose it will always be the most comfortable. My mother refuses to leave, so we stay here where it is quiet.”

Tyler figured the man probably had many other properties, but was clearly attached to his ancestral roots.

Tyler took the joint and hit deeply, enjoying the taste of Mexico’s finest. He was accustomed to only the best and knew it would be difficult to give that up. After his third hit, he declined more and lit up a cigarette to enjoy the buzz. A part of him thought he could easily live in Mexico, but decided he wanted his child to grow up in America.

Jesus put out the joint and lit up a Cuban cigar as he leaned back into the euphoria.

“So, Tyler, Raul tells me the package I have received is from a custom jeweler in Mexico City. Do you mind me asking what it is and who it is for?” Jesus leaned forward with a twinkle in his eye.

Tyler figured it would do no harm to tell the man about Linda, so he spelled out their situation with the child and how he wanted to ensure it was not born out of wedlock. Jesus listened carefully while blowing smoke rings from his cigar.

“I see—very noble of you. It is the right thing to do, of course.” He put down his cigar and walked out of the room briefly. When he returned, he carried a small package wrapped in plain brown paper. “And you love Linda?”

“Oh, yes, very much.” Tyler agreed.

Jesus smiled and handed the package to Tyler. “Then you shall need this, my friend.”

Tyler took the package and tried to put it in his pocket before Jesus stopped him.

“You do not want to check the merchandise before you leave?”

“Oh, well, yes, I suppose I do.” Tyler imagined the man really just wanted to see the ring for himself.

He unwrapped the package carefully and noted the beautiful box of inlaid gold beneath the plain brown paper. He looked up at Jesus and smiled before opening it.

The ring was elegantly beautiful. Eighteen carat gold with inlaid mother of pearl encircling the entire ring. Spaced evenly on either side of the large diamond in the center of the ring, eight small green emeralds were inlaid in the mother of pearl band. The effect was stunning, and he knew it was worth every penny of the fifteen thousand it cost him.

He handed it to Jesus who looked it over carefully.

“This is the best work I have seen in a long time, and I have seen a lot.” Jesus handed the ring back to Tyler. “If she says no to this, then it is truly not meant to be, my friend.”

Tyler agreed it was the most beautiful piece of jewelry for the most beautiful woman he knew. He could hardly wait to ask her, but he still needed to figure out how, and when.

“Thank you, Jesus, I appreciate you ensuring it arrived safely.”

“No problem, my friend, it is what I do.”

Jesus invited Tyler to stay for lunch, and Tyler obliged. He felt better than he had in many years, convinced he was finally making the right choices. They enjoyed a wonderful meal of fresh fish with beans, rice and a sweet mango salsa. When Tyler finally left, it was with promises they would get together before he and Linda left for the states. Raul had come through once more, and that made Tyler guilty about leaving his employ.

* * * *

It took Tyler a day or two to decide how to ask Linda. In the end, he figured simple was best, so he let Maria in on the secret so she could prepare a wonderful meal befitting the occasion. She giggled like a school girl when Tyler had told her and began ranting on about the appropriate dish to serve. Tyler grinned at her and let her do the magic she was hired for.

On the special day, he drove Linda down the coast with the convertible top down. The air felt so fresh, and the feelings of happiness so intense, he’d actually gone most of the day without a drink or line. She was clearly content and Tyler could tell she had no way of knowing what he was going to ask her.

Before the fabulous dinner Maria prepared, Tyler took Linda onto the beach for an evening walk. It was there, amid the crashing waves, that he knelt on the sand and asked her to marry him. She cried like a baby before happily accepting the ring on her finger.

It had been a wonderful night, and Tyler still felt the excitement days later. Much to his surprise, Linda agreed to marry before returning to Los Angeles, and both thought the beach at the villa was the perfect place to hold the ceremony. Raul happily consented and promised a small, but lavish affair with a small contingent of friends and family.

Tyler knew he wouldn’t be asking his family, but more than a few friends would be willing to come down for the event. Raul agreed to be the best man, and Linda’s best friend from the clothing store agreed to be the bridesmaid. It was all coming together so fast, Tyler felt like they were living in a dream.

It had been a tense moment when Linda finally called her parents to invite them to the wedding. After talking for what seemed like hours, Linda had come out to the pool and informed Tyler they would attend. She added she hadn’t told them about the baby, and that she wanted it to stay that way until after they returned home. Tyler readily agreed and was surprised they would actually come to Mexico. She had not spoken with them, as far as Tyler knew, for many years, and he knew the reunion would be awkward and difficult. Still, you had to start somewhere.

Raul was scheduled to arrive in two days, and the house staff was kept busy preparing the other rooms for his arrival. He would be traveling with at least four of his most trusted men, and he informed Tyler that his sister and mother were also coming from Mexico City. Tyler had never met a close relative of Raul’s, and he was nervous about meeting Raul’s mother. According to Raul, she was a stern woman who preferred controlling everything and everyone. As Raul put it, ‘it is a great relief for everyone she enjoys shopping so much, it keeps her away on long trips’.

Apparently, even before arriving she was taking over control of the wedding preparations. Maria constantly swore under her breath about the woman every time someone mentioned her name. Tyler stayed out of the drama and was happy someone was taking over the planning. He only had to show up, which he thought he could probably do without too much incident.

Maria offered to help Linda find a dress, and to both their surprise, Maria’s friend offered to make one for her and assured them it would be ready in time. As everything came together, Tyler sat back enjoying the hustle and bustle that spun around him. He easily located a tuxedo through Jesus, and after a few minor fittings, it was delivered dry cleaned and pressed to the villa. He was ready for the big day, and the rest of the estate was on the verge.

Tyler smiled in the mirror as he closed his cocaine drawer, happy to avoid the white substance in his excitement. He had slowly reduced his intake, and felt surprisingly better. He knew he had a long way to go, but it was the baby steps that counted.

He donned Hawaiian swim trunks and shirt, ready to spend the day poolside listening to Linda go on about various aspects of the event. The wedding was only five days away, and Tyler knew it would arrive sooner than expected. He decided to soak up as much sun as possible before his life was changed forever.

Maria had a wonderful breakfast waiting as he came downstairs, and as usual, he grabbed juice and coffee before walking onto the veranda to greet the glorious day. Maria confirmed Linda was on a walk, and Tyler smiled as he imagined her trying to visualize the tents, chairs, and flowers for the ceremony.

Jesus had called a day earlier to inform them he had located a priest who was able to perform the ceremony despite the fact neither of them were Catholic. Jesus had commented the father owed him for some work he had performed a couple years back. Tyler didn’t ask, and Jesus didn’t tell. Tyler was simply happy the last piece of the puzzle was solved.

Maria delivered his breakfast of eggs, beans and fruit, and Tyler thanked her as he dug into it with gusto.

“Oh, señor, a package arrive for you.”

“Thank you, Maria, I’ll open it later.”

“Sí, señor.” She walked back into the kitchen and Tyler finished his meal silently.

He lit a cigarette as he walked around the veranda to the pool area, content to lie in the sun before Linda returned from her walk. He called to Maria who obliged him a tall Mimosa, albeit delivered with a scornful look.

As she returned to the house, she turned back to inform Tyler Señora Mendez was going to stop by at eleven for one more fitting of the dress. Tyler thanked her for the information and promised to tell Linda when she returned.

He finished his cigarette and downed the Mimosa before lying in the warm sun. It wasn’t long before he dozed off, dreaming about a bizarre circus clown.

Maria woke him from his strange dream with apologies. She looked nervous and insisted Tyler go find Linda as it was already eleven thirty and she had not returned. Tyler couldn’t believe he had slept for an hour and a half, but willingly woke up to go find his future bride. He knew she was easily distracted on the beach and probably let the time get away.

He put on sandals, a shirt and hat before heading down the steep steps to the beach. He couldn’t see her from the steps, but only had a view of the immediate beach in front of the villa. He figured she had probably walked down the beach and was invited to lunch by one of the neighbors she’d befriended.

He walked onto the sand and spotted footprints leading to the water. He followed hoping they would tell him which direction she’d gone. It was a long stretch of beach, and he didn’t relish the idea of having to walk all of it.

Unfortunately, her prints ended at the water where the waves washed away the remnants of her path. Well, he had a fifty-fifty chance at picking the correct direction, so he headed left as he knew one of the women living in that direction was near Linda’s age. It would be natural for her to gravitate toward someone her own age during this time of stress. Tyler couldn’t remember which house it was, but he figured if he got close he could probably find someone to ask.

He spent the next two hours combing the beach and homes for Linda, but couldn’t find anyone who had seen her that day. At this point, he was beginning to grow nervous. It was not like her to disappear, especially with so much going on. He returned to the villa hoping he had missed her, but only a concerned Maria met him on the veranda.

“No luck, Maria, I can’t find her.”

Maria looked scared as she held out the small package from earlier.

“I did not know what the word meant, señor, I am sorry.”

Tyler took the package and read the writing on the outside. It simply had Tyler’s name on it and underneath the word ‘URGENT’ in bold.

Tyler couldn’t figure who would send such a package, but it seemed too small for a bomb. He opened the box and stared down at its contents. There, hidden among dirty newspapers was the ring he had given Linda. The shock of what he was seeing was too much as he sat hard on the nearest chair he could reach.

“Oh, señor, what is it?” Maria was nearly in tears as she saw the pain on Tyler’s face. “Is it Linda?”

Tyler was too stunned to answer as he absently let the box fall to the ground sending the ring clattering across the tile to the sound of Maria’s wailing as she recognized what it was. Tyler couldn’t move as bile rose from his empty stomach. What was happening, and who had Linda?

* * * *

Once Tyler had composed himself, he found a note tucked inside the box written in sloppy handwriting. But it gave Tyler a telephone number, and he pulled himself together before placing the call.

A deep voice with a thick accent answered. “Hello?”

“Uh … yes … this is Tyler Jensen.”

“Momento.” The voice disappeared as Tyler waited nervously, trying to pull together some sort of theory as to what had happened. He knew with Raul’s drug connections, anything was possible. It was a tough business, and although Tyler was only a middle man, his knowledge could still be valuable.

Another voice answered, this time without a strong accent. “Tyler Jensen, is it?”

“Yes.” He replied crisply, wanting to demand what was happening. Instead, he played it cool. “You sent me my fiancé’s ring?”

“Indeed I did.” The voice sounded too pleasant considering the situation. “I am glad you received it fine.”

Tyler couldn’t hold back. “What is this about, and where is Linda?”

“Patience, my good man, she is well—for now.”

“What do you want?” Tyler was angry as it became apparent this was clearly a kidnapping.

“In due time, my good man, in due time.”

The voice was casual and didn’t sound Mexican. The accent was similar, but slightly different. It sounded almost European or maybe South American, Tyler wasn’t certain.

“I’m listening.” He tried to calm down.

“First, you must have realized I am not really interested in you or your fiancé. It is your employer I want.”

“Then why not go after him?”

“Tsk, tsk, young man, I am not as foolish as you appear to be.”

Tyler gritted his teeth. He was being used as bait for Raul, and Linda was caught in the middle. They had what Tyler wanted, and Tyler had what they wanted, access to Raul.

“Who are you?” Tyler asked, knowing they probably wouldn’t answer.

“Please, let us just say I am an interested party in your employer’s business.”

“Then, I assume you know who my boss works for?”

“Of course, I would be a fool if I did not.”

“Then you know how dangerous it is to cross him?” Tyler was bluffing, but he didn’t know what else to say.

“I do. However, I don’t think you realize how dangerous I am—for you that is.”

The voice was steely cold, and Tyler froze with fear. He was beginning to realize how much danger Linda was really in.

“Please, don’t hurt her, she is innocent.” He pleaded.

“Ah, no, that decision is left up to you, my good man. Do as I say, and you and your fiancé may yet survive this.”

“What assurances do I have you have not already killed her?”

“None.” It was flat and emotionless. “However, I am a business man, and I do not see any advantage to killing either one of you … yet.”

“Fine, what do you want me to do?” Tyler was helpless.

“I want you to bring me Raul Sanchez, in exchange for your fiancé.”

Tyler feared it would be something impossible like that. Why else would they kidnap Linda unless it was to get something they couldn’t get any other way?

“How can I do that, simply ask him?” Tyler knew it sounded childish, but he was beginning to see there was no way out for either of them. He couldn’t give up on Linda, but he couldn’t betray Raul either.

“Tsk, tsk, I do not care about such details—I have laid out a simple business proposal. Of course, if you do not wish to negotiate, I am happy to end this call right now.”

“No! I am willing to negotiate.” He sounded desperate, and that didn’t help his position.

“Good.”

The voice spelled out the location and details of the exchange as Tyler dutifully wrote them down.

“Now, you must bring him alone of course, otherwise, our deal will be null and void. I know you wouldn’t want that, would you?”

“No, I wouldn’t want that.” Tyler agreed glumly.

“Good, then I will see you in three days. Goodbye, Mr. Jensen.”

With that, the phone disconnected, and Tyler sat motionless, confused. What was he going to do? What could he do? Ask Raul to sacrifice himself for Linda. He knew Raul loved Linda, but self-preservation was much stronger, especially in their line of work.

* * * *

It took a better part of the day to convince Maria not to tell anyone. She pleaded with him to call the police, but considering who Raul was, it was better to leave law enforcement out of it. Besides, the law was not always on the side of the righteous in Mexico. Tyler had no way of knowing who was behind it and what connections they had. He had no illusions if they discovered he had gone to the police, they would kill Linda and try some other way to get to Raul.

Ultimately, he couldn’t find a solution except to confess to Raul and hope they could figure something out together. It was hard to confess, and Raul took it as coldly as the voice on the telephone. With little conversation after the initial confession, Raul simply said ‘we will be there soon’ and hung up.

It took another day before Raul arrived. During that time, Tyler played out all the horrible scenarios in his head. He knew when push came to shove, Raul would look after the family business first. With that in mind, Tyler felt like he and Linda were expendable. He and Raul had a strong, brother-like bond, but when it came right down to it, he and Linda were Caucasian and Raul was not. Tyler hated putting it in those terms, but he understood reality.

It took every ounce of willpower to hold off calls from family and friends as they prepared to arrive for the wedding. Tyler hoped it was a wedding they would see and not a funeral, but as each hour went by, the wedding seemed more like fantasy. He assured everyone everything was on schedule and that Linda was simply too busy to talk.

He’d even spoken with Linda’s mom, and when he was done, he felt certain she hadn’t believed his lies. Nonetheless, he couldn’t confess what was actually happening. The last thing he needed was concerned family members rushing down to offer advice on how to resolve the crisis. They didn’t have knowledge of this part of the world, and he didn’t want to risk their lives as well.

Raul finally arrived in the late afternoon of the second day in a motorcade of seven cars, and Tyler imagined he’d brought more than his usual four security men. He was not disappointed as twelve heavily armed men got out of the vehicles and began setting up a perimeter around the property.

Raul greeted Tyler warmly but wore a heavy look of concern.

“I am sorry, my friend, it is a cruel business we are in.”

“I know, Raul, I don’t blame you. I knew the risks when I joined your organization.”

Raul nodded knowingly. “It is not the organization you are a part of, Tyler, you are like family, and we help family no matter what.”

Tyler was pleasantly surprised by his admission. It made him feel better, but he wondered what the rest of the family thought about that arrangement. He assumed they would not open their arms so easily to a worker in the company. Still, if Raul said it, then he would have to trust him. He had no other choice.

“I see you brought security with you.” Tyler pointed to the men being ordered around by one large, bald man wearing a black suit and dark sunglasses. “Who are they?”

“Best you don’t know, my friend. Suffice it to say, they are the best at what they do. Come, let us go inside and you can tell me the details they gave you.”

Tyler realized he didn’t want to know what the guys were good at. This was the side of the business he had always stayed happily ignorant.

* * * *

Tyler and Raul rode in silence to the exchange site, Raul occasionally speaking on his cell phone to the bald security man he referred to as the ‘Colonel’. Unfortunately, he rarely spoke to Tyler. Tyler was certain the Colonel was not currently in the military. If anything, they were paid mercenaries, and that scared Tyler even more. When everything hit the fan, friendly fire was just as dangerous as an enemy’s.

He stewed silently on the long drive. He had a sinking feeling none of them would come out well when this was all over. Considering the armament the mercenaries brought, Tyler expected a bloodbath. The dirt road they were on led to nowhere, and Tyler wondered how remote they actually were. He hadn’t seen much in the way of civilization for the last hour, and the desert around them was barren of all but cactus.

The Colonel had commented the desert was both a good and bad thing. It was good because hiding was difficult and you could easily acquire line of sight firing solutions for more accurate targeting, but the trade-off was difficulty approaching an area undetected. Tyler had tried not to look disturbed during that exchange, but he knew he was way out of his league.

He understood enough to realize they were expecting an ambush and planned a counter ambush in response. The question was who would be better at executing their ambush? Tyler figured the kidnappers had the upper hand since they’d picked the exchange site. They knew the territory, the landscape, and the various hiding places. He believed they would be ready for anything Raul’s men could throw at them. Despite that, it was the only plan they could execute. For Tyler, he viewed it as an all or nothing proposition—either they would all make it, or they all wouldn’t.

His mood turned somber as he realized the futility of their situation. He knew Raul viewed this as a showdown that would either ruin him or make his name even more feared. He had a lot to lose and a lot to gain. It scared Tyler to see this other side of Raul. He’d always viewed the man as a brother, but the cold blooded response to this situation chilled their relationship. Whatever fears Tyler had about quitting the business, the current situation removed them. Assuming they survived, he and Linda would move far from Los Angeles and the lifestyle that became too dangerous to continue.

“We are almost there, my friend.” Raul said in a casual tone.

“I’m ready.” Tyler tried to put on a false bravado, but he knew Raul was too familiar with his yellow streak. The look he shot Tyler was confirmation he did not believe him.

“Take this.”

Raul handed Tyler a small caliber pistol from a duffle bag. Tyler took it into his hands and immediately felt fear and concern. He’d never fired a gun in his life and felt certain he couldn’t hit anything with it.

“Raul, … I … uh … I have never fired a gun before.” He hated to admit it, but he had to let him know the truth. He was more of a liability with a gun than an asset.

“I know,” Raul stared him coldly in the eyes, “but if you need to, you can do it. Remember, this is family we are talking about, and I know you would do anything to protect Linda.”

Tyler looked at the gun in his hands as anger began to rise at the thought of Linda in danger. He would kill for her, wouldn’t he? He knew the answer was yes, but he still felt uncertain.

Raul tucked another gun into the back of his pants and pulled his jacket down over it. “Besides, maybe we won’t have to use them.”

Tyler didn’t believe that for one moment, but he held out hope nonetheless.

The sun was already setting over the mountains to the west as Raul turned on his headlights while they continued to bounce over the rough road the final mile. The exchange was at the base of a mountain Raul was certain had hidden caves and crevices. He was clearly expecting a lot of men to greet them.

Though Tyler hadn’t pressed about it, Raul didn’t admit who he thought might be behind the kidnapping. His only comment was that in his position, he made a lot of enemies. After that, Tyler realized he knew very little about the man he had worked for so many years. He knew Raul’s family was well connected to the Columbian Cartel, but that did not assure safety from competing organizations. Though many in the Cartel had made peace and worked together for shared success, outsiders were always waiting for an opportunity to break into the business or take over operations. For all Tyler knew, it was someone in their organization who felt it was finally time to take charge.

They pulled into a dirt parking area where several cars and a large truck sat silently. A small shed sat off to the right with a lone window lit from inside. Raul pulled the car around for an easy exit, assuming they got that far.

“Let me do all the talking.” Raul ordered. Tyler was too happy to oblige.

Raul put a small communication device in his ear connected directly to the Colonel. They would wait to hear what the situation was before they made their move.

Both got out of the car and Raul spent a lot of time scanning the dark cliffs and crevices before moving to the back of the car to wait.

“What if they just shoot us?” Tyler asked, concerned as he looked at the dark mountain looming overhead. He knew a sniper could easily be concealed anywhere on the cliff face with both in their sights.

“It is a distinct possibility,” Raul confirmed, “but I think the person we are dealing with will want to make sure I know who is taking me down.”

That didn’t reassure Tyler. They continued to wait patiently as Raul whispered observations to the Colonel. Finally, the door to the shed opened and a voice cut through the darkness.

“Talking with the Colonel, Raul? And I thought you were smarter than that.”

The voice was the same person Tyler had spoken with on the phone. It was difficult to make out what he looked like as he walked toward them backlit by the shed. At the same time, car doors opened as armed men moved out toward Raul and Tyler.

Tyler froze, uncertain what to do.

“Oh, don’t bother pulling the pistol you have concealed in your belt, Raul, I have many rifles aimed at you.” As if in response, red lasers dotted both Raul and Tyler’s shirts.

Tyler raised his hands as did Raul.

“Why would I need a pistol?” Raul said calmly. “Are we here to fight or negotiate?”

The man laughed loudly. “You are here to die, my friend, then, I will consider whether to negotiate with Mr. Jensen.”

“Ah, I see.” Raul considered his words without emotion. “Can I at least know who will kill me?”

The voice stopped twenty feet short of them surrounded by a dozen armed men.

“Certainly. Colonel, please shed some light on our guests.”

In response, the cliff lit up with a row of bright lights dowsing the area in near daylight. The effect was blinding at first, but Tyler’s eyes quickly adjusted. The man standing twenty feet away wore plain black trousers and a red silk shirt underneath a black leather jacket. His hair was neatly groomed and he sported no facial hair. To Tyler, he didn’t look Hispanic, but rather Italian or Greek. His hair held a slight curl and was a lighter shade of brown than the dark black that was more typical of the Hispanics Tyler knew.

Tyler watched as the bald Colonel came into the light walking straight for Raul with a smile on his face.

“Sorry, sir, but your price just didn’t match that of your competitor’s. You know how it is, business is business.”

Tyler thought Raul took the betrayal rather well. He felt a deep chill as he realized there was no rescue. He had no doubts the man would not want to negotiate with him after killing Raul. Why leave loose strings that could tie you to this incident?

Raul raised his hands as the Colonel frisked him and removed the gun from his belt. Tyler expected the Colonel to frisk him next, but he walked back to the kidnappers and stood calmly.

Raul put his hands back down and faced his killers stoically. “I never figured it would be you, my friend. Why are you doing this? My business pales compared to yours.”

The man walked forward to stand in front of Raul.

“That is very true, but this is not about the business.”

“Then why?” Raul wouldn’t back down.

The man smiled and turned to toward Tyler. “Pardon me, Mr. Jensen, my name is Antonio De La Fuego.” He held his hand out toward Tyler.

Tyler hesitated before taking the man’s hand gently. “Uh, Tyler Jensen.”

“Of course.” He released Tyler’s hand and snapped his finger while eyeing Raul.

Tyler heard Linda’s voice scream his name through the night as she came out of the shed led by a large, dark man. Seeing Tyler, she ripped herself away from the man and ran towards them until the Colonel stopped her in mid-run.

“As you can see, Mr. Jensen, she has come to no harm, as promised.” Antonio turned back to Tyler and eyed him deeply. “You, however, have brought Raul with an army of mercenaries. This is not a very fair way to negotiate for the release of your fiancé, no?”

Tyler was cornered, but he had to take whatever chance he was being given. “I had no choice. If I hadn’t told Raul what was happening, he wouldn’t have come. He planned the mercenaries.”

“I know, it is as I planned it to be. Fortunately, the Colonel and his men have done various … projects for me in the past, and I knew Raul was too cheap to pay for their loyalty.” He smiled again as he looked at Raul. “You are too predictable, my friend, and you know what happens to those who are predictable in our business.”

Raul stared him down. “They die.”

“Exactly, and so you shall, but first I must decide what to do with your associate here.” He turned back to Tyler and his expression wore no smile. “Tell me, my good man, why do you think I should let you and your fiancé go?”

This was it, Tyler had only this one chance at trying to bargain for their lives, but he was drawing a blank. Antonio stood patiently, looking him in the eye, waiting for the one plea he could conjure.

Almost without thinking Tyler blurted out the only thing that came to mind. “She is pregnant.”

After he said it, he realized in their current situation it sounded stupid. However, it was all he could come up with. Killing them might be one thing, but killing a baby was another. It was a gamble, but all he had to go on.

Antonio looked back at Linda who appeared ready to tear apart anyone who came close to her. “Is this true?” He asked casually.

Linda spit on the ground before confirming it was true.

“I see, well, that may be just enough to spare your lives.”

Tyler couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Antonio was going to let them go free?

Antonio signaled to one of his men. “Take them back to the villa, unharmed.”

The Colonel released Linda who ran to Tyler hugging him tightly. She gave Antonio a brutal look before Tyler could pull her away to the waiting car. No need to aggravate the situation when they were being released. At least, it appeared they were being released. Once they were away from here, who knew what might happen. It was a long ride through the desert before reaching the ocean.

They walked through the armed men and Tyler avoided eye contact. As they covered the rest of the distance to the waiting car, Tyler felt safer by the moment. Even if they were betrayed in the desert, they at least had a fighting chance. Everyone assumed Tyler posed no threat, but he still had the gun in his pants. Given the opportunity, he might be able to use it to their advantage.

With his arm around Linda, they walked up the slight incline to the open doors. Tyler counted only two men escorting them. Both were armed with pistols in underarm slings, and Tyler had no illusions they knew how to use them.

As they were about to get in, a sudden noise and light appeared overhead. The man holding the door for Tyler suddenly reached for his pistol and threw both of them to the ground. Tyler hit hard and rolled back down the incline toward the other men. Noisy helicopters circled overhead kicking up large clouds of dust, blinding the men on the ground.

Tyler couldn’t see anything through the confusion, but he heard the distinctive sound of gunfire as those on the ground tried to fend off those in the air. At the same time, jeeps and four by four vehicles appeared out of the desert to join in the mayhem.

Tyler scrambled back up the hill, trying to locate Linda and find cover. As he neared the top, the two men inside the car were firing into the sky at the helicopters. The sound was deafening and Tyler heard metallic rings as bullets pelted the cars from above. From the booming sound, Tyler assumed the helicopters carried large caliber automatic weapons.

He spotted Linda desperately trying to get under the car next to the one under fire. Tyler saw sprays of dirt around them as bullets penetrated the dry desert floor. He stayed low to the ground as he crawled his way toward Linda. He was almost there when a bullet ricocheted off the side of the car and hit Linda in the ankle. She let out a scream of pain as blood poured from her shattered leg. Tyler sprang into action ignoring the bullets whizzing around them as he dove onto Linda. He pulled her close and began dragging her toward the base of the cliff.

He could just make out a narrow crevice he thought could cover them until the shooting stopped. Either way, it was better than being out in the open. He half ran and half crawled while Linda screamed in terror and pain. Nearing the cliff, he stumbled and both fell to the ground hard. Linda lay curled in a ball nursing her leg as Tyler struggled to regain his footing and pick her up. He got up from the ground, as a bullet sprayed dust into his eyes near a red dot swirling on the ground in front of him.

He spotted another red dot moving toward Linda and he sprang into action to cover her body and roll her out of the way. Like slow motion they rolled the remaining distance to the cliff face and Tyler dragged them both inside the tight crevice. Bullets sprayed rock and dirt into their faces, but could not reach them directly underneath the rock ledge.

Tyler cradled Linda’s head in his arms and tried to protect her from the stinging debris. He could just peer out at the bloody scene as bullets flew from red hot weapons unloading massive discharges. In the back of his mind, he wondered who was attacking. Had Raul planned a back up just in case, or was this someone wanting to take advantage of an opportunity? Tyler didn’t care, it might just give them the edge to survive.

He looked down at the messy tangles of Linda’s hair and slid his arm down her back to help hold her up. He noticed she no longer struggled, and felt limp in his arms. He wondered if she had feinted in the excitement, but froze solid when he felt wetness at the base of her back. He began to panic as he tried desperately to see the color of the moisture in the dark gloom of their hideout.

He couldn’t see clearly, but he feared the worst as he tried desperately to wake her from her deathly sleep. He cried as he screamed into her face to wake up, but her eyes were blank as she stared through him. He hugged her tightly, sobbing with pain and agony he’d hoped he would never have to face. They’d come so far and had been so close to freedom, but in the end, he’d lost her.

Tyler’s eyes burned with the loss, and he didn’t notice the quiet filling the area outside their hiding place. The helicopters had landed and the vehicles from the desert stood silently, bathing the bloody scene in headlights.

But Tyler didn’t move. He stayed in the cliff gently rocking Linda as he apologized to her over and over again. He had ruined her life and as he thought about the baby and their one chance at a new life, it brought even greater tears of anguish. He’d taken her from the comfortable life and corrupted her like he had corrupted himself. He had turned both into drug addicts and had turned away from normal society for a false life of never ending parties and seemingly never ending friends.

But it had been false. It wasn’t a real life, it was something you did when you didn’t have a real life. It was the ultimate escape from reality. Why face reality when you can avoid it altogether? And now, his fatal choices had killed the only thing he had ever loved.

Through tears of pain, Tyler heard footsteps approaching outside the crevice. He reached for his gun and pulled it out waving it wildly into the darkness. He wanted revenge, a way to make his pain go away. He pulled Linda with him as he came into the light. Several men stood silently as he laid Linda on the ground while brandishing his gun. The men were unafraid of his lone pistol, as he desperately wiped his eyes trying to focus.

“You killed her—you bastards—you killed her.” He spat out accusations through tears and uncontrolled sobbing as he pointed the gun from one to other.

“It is me, my friend—you can put the gun away.”

The sound of Raul’s voice penetrated the thick fog of anger controlling his actions. Raul? He thought absently. How can he be alive?

“She’s … she’s dead!” He nearly moaned the statement.

“I know, my friend … and I am truly sorry.”

Raul’s words held emotion for Linda, but the thought of him being alive was too much for Tyler.

“This is your fault!” He accused wildly. “They were going to let us go until your men attacked!”

“I had no control of this, my friend, I truly thought I was going to die.” Raul sounded genuinely surprised.

Tyler didn’t relent. “Then, who are these men?” He waved the gun generally about as men in the distance piled dead bodies into the center of the flood-lit area.

“My family sent them.” Raul said coolly.

Tyler fell to his knees exhausted, too emotional to stand. “Why couldn’t they have waited?” He dropped the gun and fell onto Linda’s lifeless form. “We were almost free—we almost made it.” This brought new sobs of pain as he cried endlessly, lost in a pool of pain and suffering. “My … my child … is gone.”

“I know, my friend. I am so sorry.”

Tyler felt dizzy as the world around him turned black.

* * * *

Tyler woke to the pain of tight binds pinning him down. His eyes blinked into the whiteness as it took a moment to realize where he was.

“How are you feeling?” The cold voice of Nerun whispered beside him.

Tyler struggled against the metal straps, but was held firm. “You, bastard!” He spat at Nerun.

“Oh, my!” Nerun feigned surprise. “Surely that was an adventure befitting a demon such as you. No?” Nerun leaned over and smiled into his face. “I am surprised, Demon, you hold such strong emotions for that … what was her name … oh, yes, Linda.”

Tyler struggled once again at the mention of Linda’s name. The memory of the incident was still too fresh for him to remain quiet.

“Now, now, let’s not struggle, we have many more adventures ahead.” Nerun walked to the end of the bed.

“How can you do this?” Tyler pleaded desperately.

“The same way you demons destroy everything you touch.” Nerun countered calmly.

“I’m not a demon.” Tyler yelled viciously.

“Of course not, Nayllen, Destroyer of Worlds.” Nerun was cold and heartless.

Tyler fought futilely against his bonds. “I am Tyler.”

“Hmm.” Nerun came around to the other side of the bed to look into his eyes. “You were Tyler!”

“You can’t do this.” Tyler argued as strength fell from his body. The sting of losing Linda again was too much for him to handle.

“Why, yes, I can.” Nerun said angrily as he transformed into the beastly form of Gamel. “And I will do it over and over again, for eternity!”

Tyler stared into the gold eyes of the angry god as blackness took him away.

Rewind

The beeping of a communications console woke Tyler. He stared around confused as a glass of wine fell from his hands onto the floor. He sat up on the couch to silence the device screaming beside his head.

“Yes?” He answered blearily, smoothing his mussed hair.

The voice was Marshall Sliss. “Sorry to bother you so early, Admiral, but the Military Command is convening an emergency meeting.”

Tyler shook the effects of the wine from his head as he tried to read Marshall Sliss’s face. “What is it, Marshall?” He asked quietly.

“Uh … well, I hate to admit it, sir, but I don’t know. Vice Admiral Teesen called the meeting.”

Tyler gritted his teeth as he thought about Teesen and his contrivances to steal power from the Admiral. This could be yet another attempt to take over command.

“Give me an hour to get ready and I’ll meet you—where and when is the meeting?”

“Thirty minutes in the same conference room.”

“Fine, thirty minutes, I’ll be there.”

Tyler struggled to move into the bathroom to get ready. He needed to hurry but felt the Admiral’s age and his hangover slow every action.

Fortunately, Toosia’s door remained closed, and he moved into his quarters quietly to let her sleep. Although their reacquaintence was still awkward, Tyler held hope they would soon move forward in the relationship. The sexual aspects of that relationship would be welcome, but he really needed someone within whom he could confide emotionally. The drain of being the Admiral took its toll, and Tyler knew the bottles of wine were going down much too easily.

He had to get a grip on the situation and bring the Admiral back to power—whatever the cost. Only then could he steer Poolto in the correct direction. Unfortunately, he felt they were losing the battle everyday, and with this new emergency meeting, it was becoming clear they were no longer privy to up-to-date intelligence. They were at a disadvantage, and it was increasingly difficult to see the path to success.

For a moment, thoughts of giving up fill his mind, but these were immediately replaced with the strong presence of the Admiral. His ancestors never gave up, so neither would he—even if he wasn’t actually the Admiral.

* * * *

Marshall Sliss met Tyler in the corridor outside the conference room, pulling him into a side room before they entered the emergency session.

“I haven’t got all the details, but it appears there is some new military intelligence that is disturbing to those who have seen it.”

Tyler noted the Marshall’s concerns when he stated ‘those who have seen it’. They were effectively being cut out of the loop, and since intelligence was controlled by the Imperial Palace, it was very easy to leave the Admiral out. Withholding vital information was only the first step in their master plan to replace him.

“Fine, Marshall, I am sure we’ll learn all of it in the meeting.” Tyler walked back into the corridor. “Was there something else?” He asked as the Marshall hesitated in the doorway.

“Sir,” the Marshall paused thoughtfully, “I think the news may lend strong support for a counter offensive. Vice Admiral Teesen’s plan may finally get the backing of the Military Command.”

Tyler took the news calmly. He knew they were on shaky ground, but it looked like that ground was about to be pulled out from under them. They had stalled Teesen as long as they could during the conference, and Tyler had yet to prepare for the showdown on the final day. Perhaps this was it, the showdown they all dreaded but weren’t prepared for.

“Has the staff been informed?” Tyler asked as neutral as he could muster under the circumstances.

“Some of them—we just found out less than an hour ago. They’re trying their best to get more details, but I think we can expect to have to deal with this without any preparation.” The Marshall finally stepped out of the doorway into the corridor. “Beelen and Kooren will be here, they can relay everything to your staff. It is the best we can hope for.” He finished weakly.

Tyler smiled. “Cheer up, Goolen, we aren’t out of this fight yet.”

“Yes, sir.” The Marshall responded crisply.

As they took their seats around the large conference table, Vice Admiral Teesen stood to address the command.

“Please be seated,” Teesen ordered in his best military voice, “I believe everyone is here.”

Tyler spotted Beelen and Kooren against the side wall, both engrossed with their communications equipment. Marshall Sliss was also reading something on his monitor, but Tyler gave Teesen his full attention.

The Vice Admiral cleared his throat before continuing. “We have come upon some startling intelligence that may change everything we have discussed up to this point. Without further delay, I’ll turn it over to Intelligence Liaison Officer Griir.”

Vice Admiral Teesen sat down as the young man stood before the rest of the group.

“Thank you, Vice Admiral Teesen.” The man nervously worked several controls before a large holo-projection of an asteroid appeared in the center of the table. “This asteroid, named Taaren-3, has been a refurbishing facility in our control throughout most of the war. It is so far inside our controlled territory, we believed it to be an unlikely target.”

As the man talked, the image changed to show the facility, its supply roster, personnel counts, and defensive capabilities. The Admiral was familiar with the facility, but never considered it a key asset. Tyler continued to listen, but something nagged at the back of his mind. It was as if he’d heard this report already, a kind ofdéjà vu. He ignored it as he tried to focus on the projection while the man switched views.

Tyler was stunned by the new image. Based on the gasps around the room, everyone else was also surprised. The new image showed a blackened hole where the facility had once been. Virtually no remnants of the facility could be seen.

“As you can see, an unprovoked attack on the facility has wiped out everything there.” The man read solemnly from a list of lost assets. “… and no survivors.”

He paused to let everyone catch their breath.

“That’s not the worst.” He fiddled with the controls once more, and a series of data overwrote the gruesome image. “As you can see, preliminary analysis indicates the facility was destroyed by a single shot from a particle weapon.”

Again, he paused to let the words sink in.

Vice Secretary Hool leaned forward. “Surely there is an error in your data, only a nuclear weapon could have such a yield.” He looked around for support but was met with incredulity.

“We thought the same thing, sir, but our data is accurate. The signature in the debris field was quite conclusive—this was a particle weapon.” He went back to the controls and the image changed once again, this time to a new asteroid. “This asteroid is a weapons testing ground for Krildon. We monitor their tests remotely, but usually everything is quite mundane. However, just a day before the attack on our facility, we monitored a large explosion.”

He changed the image once more, this time the same asteroid but with a large crater taking up much of the picture, colored red for emphasis. “This is the result from that explosion. Again, the analysis of the debris field indicates a particle weapon. Let me put it in perspective for you.” He fiddled one more time and a smaller blue spot appeared inside the red area. “The blue represents the amount of damage our best nuclear missile could inflict from a surface strike on an asteroid.”

Tyler sensed something similar about this information, but what? Without thinking, he suddenly opened his mouth and spoke. “The Krildon have found a way to use skrilt as a catalyst in their particle weapons to increase the yield a hundred fold.”

Tyler was as surprised as everyone else around the room at this insight. It made sense after he said it, but he still wasn’t sure why he’d said it. It just seemed right.

“Also, they have found a way to use it to reinforce their ships’ armor making them nearly invulnerable to our own particle weapons.” Again he was mystified.

The young officer stared at Tyler with a newfound respect. “Well, yes, Admiral, we have theorized they might have used the skrilt in reinforcing ship hulls … but the particle weapon use has never been seriously considered.” The man stopped as he looked around for how best to react to this statement from his Supreme Commander.

Tyler stood up and continued as more information seemed to pour into his mind. “It is true, I assure you. That is why we have seen so many major shipments of the mineral. We were stupid to think it meant they were simply building additional off-world facilities. It’s obvious if you think about it—our facility was just one more field test before final deployment.”

Damn! Tyler thought, now they would have to ramp up for battle despite a severely depleted fleet.

Marshall Siitoo responded to Tyler’s comments.

“But, Admiral, why would they show their hand to us before meeting us in battle? Now we know they have an edge, it will surely change our battle tactics.”

Tyler stared blankly at Marshall Siitoo wondering the same thing. “Perhaps, it will not make any difference in the outcome.” Tyler didn’t know how he had surmised the situation, but he knew they would have to act on it.

Vice Admiral Teesen stood and tried to take charge. “Admiral, while we appreciate your insightful tactical thinking, I believe it may be premature in jumping to conclusions just yet. We have no proof they have found a way to use skrilt in their weapons, or that they have fielded this new particle weapon in their fleet. This is still just speculation we must try to unravel.”

“Fine, Vice Admiral, I’ll let you unravel the speculation. However, despite your temporary position during my recuperation, you are not the Supreme Military Commander, I am.” He stared at the men and women around the room and dished up the best Admiral he could muster. “Ladies and gentlemen, your Supreme Military Commander is ordering you to prepare for immediate battle. This war and our world is in the gravest of danger, and I, for one, do not intend on sitting around discussing it while the enemy prepares an attack. This conference is officially ended, and I’ll expect the tactical war room up and running in less than an hour. We will execute Vice Admiral Teesen’s plan, but we must first analyze it and make sure it stands up to this new intelligence.” He signaled to Sliss who stood up to leave with him. “Ladies and gentlemen, we will hold a command staff meeting in the war room in less than an hour. I want all readiness reports finalized and aligned with the Vice Admiral’s plan. Most have done this already, so I expect it can be completed before we meet.”

Everyone stared dumbfounded by the Admiral while exchanging glances with Teesen. The Vice Admiral was speechless, and Tyler took advantage of his delay.

“Vice Admiral Teesen, will you please accompany me so we may meet in private to review your plans beforehand?”

Teesen stuttered before finally acceding to his request. As both leaders left the hushed crowd, Marshall Sliss turned at the doorway. “Let’s move people, we have a war to win!”

The barked command spurred them into action as voices and communication devices buzzed with the new set of orders.

* * * *

In one fell swoop, Tyler had successfully taken back the Admiral’s power, and he had done it so quickly, many were still trying to catch up. Although it was strange he’d come up with the wonderful insights into their enemy’s new capabilities, he knew they were correct despite a decided lack of adequate intelligence.

His meeting with Teesen was productive, and Teesen instantly acquiesced to his subordinate role. Once the Admiral got moving, he was nearly impossible to stop. He alone portrayed the commanding presence that had won so many battles. Teesen was out of his league and knew it.

The meeting in the war room was productive, and they set in motion a plan to attack the enemy. They still held the element of surprise as Krildon would assume they would want to analyze the asteroid attack before developing a strategy. Caution was warranted, but Tyler knew the balance of the war was about to come down to this one final battle. If he couldn’t pull it off, no one could.

They had already redeployed the remnants of the fleet and shifted several warships undergoing testing into full battle status. They began evacuating personnel and supplies from their most vulnerable facilities, as they assumed Krildon would begin the attacks there.

If only one blast could take out a facility, they needed all their assets behind as much defense as they could bring to bear. Even if the particle weapon’s yield had been increased, it must still have a limited range. That gave their defenses a fighting chance, albeit slight. It was a winner-take-all campaign now, and Tyler had no illusions there would be a great number of casualties.

He himself would be leading the attack from a retro-fitted battle ship marked for demolition. It was old, but Tyler was familiar with its systems, and with new firepower added, it was sufficient to lead the fleet. The new flagship was nowhere near complete, and without proper trials, it was too risky to take into battle. The smaller ships they recently deployed held the same risks, but they had little choice. At least they were only one element of the battle and not the lead ship. They would have to gamble the new systems worked sufficiently.

Together, Tyler and Marshall Sliss calculated that, at best, only twenty to thirty percent of the Krildon fleet could have been outfitted with the new hull plating. That would definitely help their cause. But they estimated if the new particle weapons were small enough to mount on a fighter class ship, a good assumption considering one passed through their security and destroyed an asteroid facility, then Krildon could have nearly sixty percent of their fleet outfitted with the more powerful weapons.

Although those statistics were chilling, they had to put them aside if they were to focus on the pending conflict. Battle tactics could easily overpower superior weapons—the Admiral had proven that many times over the years. The shields surrounding much of their fleet could probably withstand the powerful blows, at least for a time. It would be a quick battle, so they had to ensure they used all their assets effectively.

Everything moved quickly, as Tyler prepared his staff for transfer to the flagship in two days. Vice Admiral Teesen was put in charge of the defensive efforts on all off-world assets, a role he was familiar with. He easily accepted the job and prepared his own staff for departure to their primary base on the Siireer Asteroid. Tyler wished him luck, but knew their defenses wouldn’t hold up to an all out attack. It was up to their fleet to prevent that from happening.

As the plan began to unfurl, Tyler dreaded telling Toosia. It was necessary for him to lead the battle if they had any chance of winning, but he knew her feelings about his off-world missions. The last one nearly killed him, and this one likely would. He had looked forward to a chance to rekindle the relationship that had lain dormant for so many years, but it appeared that was not meant to be. The Admiral, and thus Tyler, had a different destiny to fulfill.

This somber thought preoccupied his mind as he entered the dining room to a waiting Toosia. The mood was elegant with candles and light music, and the smells emanating from the kitchen promised an exquisite meal.

Toosia sat patiently, a slight smile on her face, as he took the opposite seat at the table.

“Good evening, dear, I hope you haven’t been waiting long?”

She smiled. “No, not long.”

He accepted her word and reached for the bottle of wine chilling next to the table. He poured himself a healthy glass before offering some to Toosia. She declined calmly, reaching for a drink of water.

“I am glad you planned this wonderful meal.” He tried to sound casual and calm, but he dreaded revealing the truth. “I suppose we deserve this after everything that has happened over the last week.”

She remained calm, but gave Tyler a deep penetrating look. “Or over the last day?”

Uh, oh, she already knew something was up. It irked him her sources within the military were nearly as good as his own. Once he took command, it was obvious news would travel fast. Despite the secret nature of the battle, his renewed role would become instant gossip.

He smiled calmly. “I see your sources are as good as usual. Who told you?”

“Surprisingly, it was your own Marshall Sliss.” She returned a coy smile.

That was surprising, the Marshall didn’t usually muck in the Admiral’s family affairs. Then again, he had played the communicator between the Admiral and Toosia during the many years when they had drifted apart.

“I see,” he drank heavily, “military efficiency wins again. What did he tell you?” As if Tyler needed to ask.

She donned a more serious expression, the smile replaced with deep furrows that were unbecoming on her beautiful face. “Everything.”

Of course, the Marshall wouldn’t hold back from Toosia, she would find out anyway.

“I had no choice, this threat is very real—it may be the end to the war …” He let it trail off as the implications of what he said took hold.

“I know.” She appeared confused and unable to express her true feelings. “It’s just … well … things have changed.”

He thought about their renewed relationship and had to agree the timing stunk. “These things never come at convenient times, dear—we can always be together afterwards.”

“You mean assuming there is an afterwards.”

The acid tone of her voice sounded defeated and Tyler understood her anger. He wasn’t certain who would come out on top, but he was quite certain he wouldn’t be returning.

“I am truly sorry, Toosia … I am.” He didn’t know how to console her, so he drank more wine to move past the awkward moment. He began feeling the effects and poured more, intending to drink the bottle himself.

He looked into her eyes and saw tears threatening to fall to her cheeks. “We … we were to be a … a family.”

“I know … I still want that.” He reached for her hand, but she pulled it away as she turned from the table. “Look … I don’t know what will happen, but I do know I will give my best to win this battle. Come on, I’ve won many in the past.”

She turned an ugly face to him. “You mean like your last one?”

The admonishment stung, but he deserved it. Tyler hadn’t been the Admiral then, and they had never figured out how they’d been betrayed. They could easily be betrayed again, this time with even more disastrous results.

“No, I mean those before the last one.”

“I’m sorry, Nayllen, you didn’t deserve that. I know you are a wonderful commander, probably the best we’ve ever had. It’s just that …” She let it hang, not wanting to finish the thought.

“What is it—Eyleeria?” He thought about the Admiral’s assistant and dreaded having to work with her in the close confines of a ship.

“No, it’s not Miss Snillen. Why, is she going with you?” The accusation caught Tyler off guard.

He had no interest in Eyleeria, but the Admiral’s past would always present problems. Tyler regretted having mentioned her name, now he had to admit she would be a part of his staff.

“Yes, well, she will be part of my staff.” He admitted calmly.

“Great, as if there weren’t enough to worry about.” She drank water and crossed her arms, pouting.

“Please, Toosia, you know that relationship is over. I only love you.” He pleaded, trying to reassure her.

“I’m pregnant!” She blurted out of the blue.

Tyler wasn’t certain he’d heard her right. “What’s that?”

“You heard me, I’m pregnant.”

“But … how … I mean …” Tyler stuttered, confused by the admission. The real question was who? They’d never made love, how could she be pregnant unless it was another man?

“What do you mean, how?” Her eyes blazed with accusations. “The usual way of course!” She took a breath and calmed slightly. “The doctors are just as mystified.”

“Bu … but when … I mean whose is it?”

Her face turned steely cold before she broke into tears. “Thanks a lot, Nayllen!”

He’d done it again. Could this really be the Admiral’s? That night in Tooland, had that been real? Oh, god, the implications brought a flood of guilt.

“That night at Tooland, when you first came to see me, that was it?” He asked tentatively.

She turned towards him dripping sarcasm. “So glad my attentions leave such a lasting impression!”

“Wha … no, no … I honestly thought it was a dream—I uh … never thought it could be reality.” He finished realizing he was losing the battle under.

“Well, it was real, and now we are expecting a baby!”

After all the years of trying, he had expected her to be excited. Then again, he was about to leave on a mission that would likely kill him. He would probably never see their child.

He smiled and tried to sound excited. “This is wonderful news, Toosia.”

“Yeah, and to celebrate, you’re off to war.” She spat darkly.

“But, Toosia, I didn’t know—I mean how could I?”

She lowered her head in thought. “It’s not too late … you know … to change the outcome.”

Fear gripped him, was she really contemplating aborting their child after waiting so long?

“You don’t mean that, Toosia, you couldn’t harm your … I mean, our baby.”

Fresh tears flooded her face, and Tyler stood to comfort her. He wrapped her in his arms and hugged tight against the frustrations pouring forth. After several moments, her sobbing subsided.

She pulled back and held his head in her hands looking hard into his eyes. “Please, Nayllen, don’t go. I have a bad feeling about this one.”

He pulled away from her hands and let his head drop.

“You know I can’t do that.” He retook his seat, draining the remnants of his glass before pouring more. He, too, had a bad feeling, but he was destined to meet this enemy one last time.

“But why can’t you?” She spat viciously through renewed tears. “Why can’t Vice Admiral Teesen lead this battle, it was his to begin with?”

He composed himself for the response, drinking more wine for fortitude. “Because, I am the best leader we have, and of all the battles we have fought in this war, this is the one that needs only the best.”

She stared across the table defeated, her face puffy from crying. She wiped tears from her eyes and tried to recompose herself.

“You don’t think I know that? I don’t want to raise this child alone, Nayllen. I want them to have a father, not a hero.”

Tyler leaned back. Once again, a family was pulled from his grasp.

Toosia suddenly stood. “Excuse me, Nayllen, I’m not feeling well.”

She left quickly for her quarters, leaving Tyler unable to respond. She had every right to be angry, but there was nothing he could do. If he won the battle, and possibly the war, then he could retire from the military and they could be a family. But if he lost, then they would almost surely lose the war. What life then for a fatherless child of a vanquished hero?

He opened another bottle and ate silently.

* * * *

Tyler finally retired, tossing and turning as sleep continued to elude him. The stress was killing him, and even the two bottles of wine could not erase the memory of his confrontation with Toosia.

As he ran back through their discussion, he realized he’d done nearly everything wrong. He’d accused her of cheating, something the Admiral had done in spades. He had belittled her concerns about a family with his self-important role as Supreme Military Commander, and he had shut her out when she needed him most. Yes, it could have gone better.

It wasn’t that he didn’t believe what he said, it was the way he had said it—no discussion, his word was final. She knew these things were true, but she had needed reassurances, a path through the maze of indecision—something she could hold onto during the difficult times ahead. All she wanted was someone to tell her it was all right and that she could raise their child with or without him. He had faith in her, but he had cut her off.

So like you, Tyler, selfish to the end. The thought deepened his depression.

His self admonishment didn’t bring sleep, but it occupied his mind while he lay restless. He surveyed their current situation and wondered what life would have been like if he’d become someone less prominent than the Admiral.

What if he had become a lowly crewman, someone who fixed problems on the ship? Where and what would he be doing now? What would the planet be doing if they had lost their hero? Clearly there were many who wanted this to happen and were sadly disappointed with his miraculous recovery. But he had to be honest with himself—would he be just as happy? Wasn’t the lure of power and wealth just another drug to replace his insignificant existence?

Addicted to the end, he thought numbly.

He wasn’t sure when or how, but he finally fell to sleep. He dreamed of Toosia, their child, and a life together in Tooland. It was a happy dream, and though Tyler knew it was only a dream, it was the best time he’d had since becoming Onyalum.

In his dream, they’d just put their son to bed and were about to enjoy an evening nightcap from their bountiful cellar. Dutifully, Tyler told Toosia to wait while he went to get something special. She smiled gently as he disappeared, making his way to the cellar.

It was too late for Feernii to help, but Tyler had his own key to the cellar and was quite the expert on the estate’s fine selections. He descended the long stairwell into the dim light of the entrance to the underground complex. His mood was light and he looked forward to a quiet evening with Toosia. He unlocked the door and reached for the light switch as he entered the secret lair.

The light sprang to life as the door closed behind him. Suddenly, he was standing in the middle of a three-ring circus. In his hands, the keys had turned into a large megaphone, and he stared at it confused. From the knee-high black boots all the way to a felt top hat, Tyler had transformed into the original Tyler from Earth, dressed as the ringmaster. He looked the fool despite a disturbing familiarity with the setting.

He was trying to recall where he’d seen this circus when a small car driven by a large clown made its way into the ring. The car swerved wildly, honking its toy horn as it made its way across the dirt floor. The car finally came to a stop near Tyler, and the clown disembarked, tripping over its large shoes, before falling face first into the dirt.

He jumped up in mock surprise and dusted himself off before removing his bowler hat in a sarcastic bow to Tyler.

“Ah, the ringmaster has finally graced us with his presence.” The clown stood up placing the hat back on its head. The lips smiled broadly despite the makeup frown with black teardrops.

Tyler stared at the ridiculous character and shook his head in disbelief. Beneath the heavy makeup, Tyler could almost make out his own face. Was the clown him? Another part of him? Suddenly, it came to him, Adanni!

“Oh, very good, and I thought you earthlings were so primitive!” Adanni frowned as he said earthling in a derogatory manner.

“But I banished you!” Tyler accused angrily as he realized what was happening. “How can you … I mean how can I be here?”

“Well, that is the gist of it—you are not here at all. This is not real.” Adanni folded his arms and tapped one of his oversized shoes on the dirt.

Tyler was steaming mad. He had assumed he’d banished the alien for good. “I know this is not real, it is my subconscious mind … a part of my dreams.”

The clown arched back as he laughed a deep dark sound filling Tyler with foreboding.

“That is not what I meant, Earthling, though you are correct to a lesser degree.” The clown moved towards Tyler, a grim look on his face. “I mean Poolto, the Admiral, and Toosia, they are not real.”

Tyler threw the megaphone to the ground and ripped the hat off his head. “Don’t play games with me, Alien, you’re the one who is not real.” He spread his arms wide to indicate the circus they stood within. “This is a trick, a way to get me to release you from your prison.”

“Aha! That is it, a prison!” Adanni blurted with too much enthusiasm. “You are the one who is imprisoned my friend—in your own mind.”

“Thanks to you.” Tyler said coldly.

“Oh, no, don’t thank me! Thank the god holding you captive.” Adanni looked smug as he said this.

“A god, huh? Who, Thosolan? He’d never do something like that.” Tyler stared directly into his own eyes peering through the grotesque masquerade of a clown.

“I agree.” Adanni said dryly. “The god who holds you is called Gamel.”

The name meant nothing to Tyler. “And why is it you know these things and I don’t?”

“Because you banished me to the furthest depths of your subconscious, and his control does not extend that far.”

“Aha, I knew it, you just want to escape!” Tyler laughed at the clown.

Adanni wore a serious expression that finally matched the caricature of the clown he portrayed. “Yes, I do want out, but I can’t do it without you.”

“Well, tough luck.” Tyler turned his back on the clown. “How do I get out of here?”

“That is what I am trying to tell you, you cannot get out.”

Tyler turned back angry. “I don’t mean that garbage you’re spewing, I mean out of this circus and back to my dream!”

“It’s all a dream, Tyler, don’t you understand?” The clown was nearly pleading.

Tyler folded his arms, anger barely in check. “No, don’t you understand? Ever since you collided with me on Earth, everything has been a dream. No, a nightmare would be more accurate. What does it matter that it is a dream—it is all unreal to me anyway.”

“Yes, I see your point,” the clown conceded, “you are a slave to the Onyalum existence, so why not be a slave to a god?”

“A slave? Hardly, I work only for myself now.”

“Ah, but you don’t.” Adanni moved back towards the car. “How do you think this war will end? Do you think you’ll be victorious and live happily ever after with Toosia? Those people don’t even exist—they died long ago—long after you banished me and fled into the Universe.”

“What do you mean they’re dead? I thought you said they were not real.” Tyler’s curiosity was piqued.

“They are not real—I mean these versions of them are not real. They once existed, and you and I once lived this life on Poolto—but it ended badly, as it will this time.” The clown got into the car, its face saddened.

“Are you saying we have done this before?” Tyler asked incredulous.

“Yes, long ago.” Adanni agreed calmly.

“But … why don’t I remember it?” Tyler countered.

“I don’t know—Gamel is somehow suppressing your memories.”

Tyler thought through the theory, but he couldn’t trust or believe anything the alien said. He’d definitely experienced feelings of déjà vu, but could this really be a false world?

The clown started the car and turned back to Tyler. “Yes, those feelings of déjà vu are real. They exist because you have done this before, only different.”

“Ok,” Tyler demanded, “if what you say is true, why should I want to leave? Maybe it will turn out better this time. Maybe I can make things right. Fake or not, it is a life I can live!”

“Is that what you believe? That this god is giving you a second chance?” He laughed so hard, it struck Tyler like cold steel. “He is torturing you, Tyler. Trust me, it will turn out badly, just like the last nightmare.”

“What nightmare?” Tyler asked. “This isn’t the first time I’ve relived something?”

“Why bother telling you, you won’t remember anyway.”

“Try me.” Tyler demanded.

“Does the name Quanzipeco mean anything to you?” Adanni asked casually.

“Yes, that is where Raul has his villa in Mexico.” Tyler answered smoothly. “That proves nothing, I’ve never even been there.”

“Then how do you know the name?” Adanni countered.

“Raul told me … or at least he must have.” Tyler was confused. “Why does that matter?”

“What if I told you that town doesn’t even exist in Mexico, but that you have been there nonetheless?”

“So that was the nightmare I relived? A town I never went to? A town that doesn’t exist? Again, that proves nothing!”

“It proves that Gamel is very powerful, and your torment … our torment may go on for eternity.” Adanni began driving away.

“Wait.” Tyler signaled him to come back. “What do you mean torment? What happened in Quanzipeco?”

The car receded into the darkness surrounding the rings as Adanni’s voice drifted back through the dust. “Trust me, you don’t want to know, Earthling … you don’t want to know.”

* * * *

The two days leading up to Tyler’s departure proved dismal. The military commands he issued and preparations for their battle were going well, but Tyler had literally put the Admiral’s essence in charge while he sat back contemplating the dream with Adanni.

The alien didn’t return the following night, but Tyler sensed him lurking in the background, waiting to see how Tyler used the information he’d been told. He’d gone through it a thousand times, but it didn’t add up. Who was Gamel, and why would he want to torture Tyler? Maybe the god thought he was torturing Adanni? That would make more sense after all, the alien was the scourge of the Universe. Tyler thought back to the angry god demanding the Universe punish Adanni. He imagined that god still wanted revenge. Was that Gamel?

Still, Tyler had difficulty believing his current life wasn’t real. Adanni could not be trusted under any circumstance—he’d as much as admitted he was trying to escape. But, why the ruse? Why try to get Tyler to believe he was trapped and reliving the past? How did this help Adanni? And why would he admit he was trying to get out? Nothing added up, and Tyler had a sinking feeling something far more sinister was at work.

But, an angry god? He thought about contacting Thosolan, but did he really need the god? Was this fabricated story of Adanni’s enough to warrant bothering a Creator so soon after leaving him? It was like admitting defeat, and Tyler wasn’t ready to throw in the towel just yet.

Still, the feelings of déjà vu became more frequent, but he was willing to chalk them up to residual memories of the Admiral’s. Of course everything seemed familiar, the Admiral had memories of it all. Still, despite trying hard, he couldn’t remember Raul naming Quanzipeco. He knew the villa was on the Pacific, but he couldn’t remember where. So what was Quanzipeco? Perhaps Adanni had planted the word in his mind.

Whatever the real situation, his current predicament warranted his full attention rather than fantasy ravings of an angry alien. He’d ignore Adanni for now—at least until something else convinced him otherwise.

One of his most pressing problems was dealing with Toosia. Her attitude deteriorated since that horrible evening, and he rarely saw her due to his pressing duties. Although she hadn’t moved from their quarters, she made excuses to visit her parents outside Yooso while Tyler worked. He had no doubt her parents were trying to convince her to dump the Admiral and raise the child on her own. Considering how the evening had gone, he couldn’t blame her if she took their advice.

He was embarking on a journey from which he would likely never return. Maybe a clean break would make the inevitable easier to deal with? He had to keep asking himself what his real motivations were for building this broken relationship the Admiral destroyed so many years before. Why did he need her love? Was he simply trying to replace Linda with someone new? A false love? A love that was not real? He turned away from such thoughts as they reeked too much of Adanni’s conspiracy theories.

His mind still wandered back to that wonderful night when Toosia had slipped into his bed. He could remember the intimate love they’d made, the colored lights playing off their skins in an excited frenzy that led to her pregnancy. Why had she come that night? She obviously still had feelings for the Admiral. Was she testing those feelings, trying to determine if there was any hope left? It was plausible, but now the testing had cost her a family.

He knew she wanted the child, it was the wedge that had driven her and Admiral apart. But now that she was finally pregnant, she would likely lose the Admiral. Was the prospect still so sweet? Could she live with a son that reminded her of her lost love? It would be bittersweet, and Tyler pitied her.

A son? How do I know that? Feelings of déjà vu returned, and it made Tyler think too much about Adanni. Surely Toosia mentioned the sex of their child—hadn’t she?

He pushed it aside. If he stayed, Poolto might lose the war. What would their enemy do to a defeated hero who cost them thousands of lives throughout the conflict? A mock trial followed by death or imprisonment. And what would his own people do if he refused to fight the final battle that cost them the war? They would turn on him and gladly turn him over to Krildon, calling for his death as loudly as the enemy.

He was trapped in a no win situation unless he won the day and returned victorious. The thought stung as he remembered Adanni’s comment. The alien had one thing right—it didn’t appear things would turn out well.

Tyler handed his last bag to the staff attendant who hurried out the door to the waiting motorcade. They would leave the same way they had come to diffuse rumors about pending fleet operations. As far as the rest of the world knew, they were holding conferences to decide their next steps.

Tyler marched down to Toosia’s quarters to say goodbye and pass on any last minute words of encouragement. Unfortunately, he hadn’t thought of any.

He quietly knocked on the door, and then harder when no answer came. Again, only silence. He opened the door gently and peered into the darkness. He turned on the lights but already knew she’d left.

On the bed, he spotted an envelope addressed to ‘The Admiral’. The name felt cold and distant. Tyler opened the letter and read slowly:

Dear Nayllen,

I am sorry I slipped out before you left, but I really couldn’t stand the thought of saying goodbye. I know the last two days have been hard on you; they have been hard on me as well. I have done a lot of soul searching and have thought about our child and the life that we could have together. Unfortunately, I do not believe that life will come to pass.

Nonetheless, I still love you. I guess I never stopped loving you despite all those years of betrayal. You have clearly changed, I can see it in your eyes, but your career and this war have once again conspired to keep us apart. Although I do not believe you will return from this mission, I truly wish you luck and send my love with you. Please win this war, at any cost, so that our child can know a world of peace, a peace that his father made possible.

Love Toosia

The words stung deeply. There was still a remote possibility of love and a family life, if only he could win this final battle. It was a big if, and Tyler felt uncertain he was up to the task. What could a lowly drug dealer from Los Angeles really do against a fleet that outnumbered them, out-powered them, and worst of all, out maneuvered them?

He tucked the letter into its envelope and placed it inside his pocket. It would serve as his good luck charm during the battle, and he needed all the luck he could get.

* * * *

Tyler settled into his new quarters on the retrofitted flagship and was struck by how fresh the interior looked despite its obvious age. Apparently someone who’d heard about it becoming the new flagship had hurriedly added aesthetics during retrofitting. They were only surface level changes, but at this point, anything which boosted morale was worth it.

His staff continued to settle in as the Captain, a wonderful officer named Kooroo Saleen, assured Tyler they were ready for battle. Tyler accepted the man’s words and ordered him to set a course for their rendezvous coordinates. Everything was moving forward, and Tyler tried to shrug off his familial problems to focus on the mission.

His quarters were ample, and he noted with satisfaction that the staff had unpacked all of his bags and put them away neatly. There was a solid foundation to being immersed in the military lifestyle—it kept the mind from wandering too far astray.

He spotted a couple cases of the Admiral’s estate wines stacked next to the small kitchen and approved despite the nature of their mission. Being drunk on the job was probably not the brightest thing Tyler could do, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to handle the stress otherwise. If he kept it in check, he could manage a few drinks here and there.

A voice from behind startled him.

“I hope you like my selections?”

He turned to Eyleeria standing in the doorway. She wore a demure smile, and her body language spoke of desire.

“Yes, thank you, Eyleeria, it will be fine.” He tried to sound cool and distant, but she ignored his indifference.

“It is good to be back with you … I mean to serve you, sir.” She giggled at the faux pas.

“Listen, Eyleeria … I don’t think … I mean I don’t want us to be … you know.” He pleaded while remaining distant.

“I understand, sir, purely professional, I promise.”

Her words didn’t match the twinkle in her eyes. Tyler had held her at bay on Poolto, but here in the tight confines of the ship, her proximity could spell disaster. He held no illusions his willpower would likely lose out to lust if put in the proper situation. Even now, memories of her and Admiral sparked excitement. He tried to ignore the feelings, but his body gave him away.

She moved close to him, and her proximity tempted with forbidden fruits, warping a mind plagued with doubts and fears. He felt an incredible urge to grab and kiss her, ripping her clothes off to make love on the floor. Where did these thoughts come from? They weren’t right, he was meant for Toosia! He cleared his throat.

She leaned up into his face. “Don’t worry, sir, I’ll serve your every need as professionally as I have always done.” She whispered her next words low and sultry. “You’re blushing.”

He backed away and stared incredulous at the mirror on the wall. His face danced with the colored lights of interest. Damn!

“You have a staff meeting in thirty and a command readiness briefing in two hours. I have informed the chef to prepare a wonderful meal for you here in your quarters at twenty-one thirty sharp and I will bring you the evening briefings after you have finished.” She smiled mischievously. “I think that is it for now, sir.”

He was too stunned to respond, so she took that as acceptance and left with a wink.

Oh, god, what have I gotten into? He thought vaguely as her scent lingered.

* * * *

The first day in space passed quickly. Too quickly when Tyler realized he would see Eyleeria again. He thought about her visit with both fear and excitement. Clearly a part of the Admiral was still attracted to her, hell, even Tyler was attracted to her. But it was wrong, all wrong! He loved Toosia, or at least he believed he loved her. And she carried his unborn child, how could he betray her again?

The confusing emotions kept Tyler off-balance throughout his meetings. Although they concluded well, he felt his lack of confidence in dealing with Eyleeria showed through as a lack of confidence in their mission. He tried to turn it all over to the Admiral’s spirit but was too flustered to make the transition. Despite those difficulties, they had accomplished a great deal and were on track with preparations.

To date, only one of the ships brought online early was deemed inoperable. After several million miles to the rendezvous point, the control systems shut down and the computer was refusing to bring them back online. The ship now drifted aimlessly in space as all onboard were unable to fix the problem. It was too late to shuttle out the proper people to fix it, so the crew abandoned ship and integrated into others within the fleet.

The incident filled Tyler with a sense of dread, but all the captains on the other new ships reported all systems checked out. They had no other option, so the gamble would have to continue. If any of the ships fell ill during the heat of the battle, they would simply have to deal with that as it occurred. If nothing else, the ships could always be used as battering rams, though Tyler disliked having to waste such resources so callously. Nonetheless, if it meant changing the tide of battle, he wouldn’t hesitate. The Admiral had done it before.

The early meeting with his staff was productive and they assured him Vice Admiral Teesen had the necessary defensive measures in place. All but a few of the remote facilities were evacuated, and those that remained would be empty within the next day or two.

They reviewed the latest intelligence, and to date, everything remained in the same state as before. Though Tyler found it hard to believe, the new relationship with the Imperial Intelligence Bureau appeared genuine and helpful. Easy to rebuke your hero when the planet’s future isn’t on the line.

Still, Tyler felt something was amiss and he sent out scouts to survey the battlefield. These, too, were a gamble, but he knew Krildon wouldn’t just sit on the sidelines after destroying an asteroid colony with a single shot. They were planning something, the question was what?

The Admiral was well versed in the capabilities of his enemy counterpart, Commandant Kulg. He knew Kulg would be planning a way to use this new technology to finally end the war. They might appear in a defensive posture, but Tyler knew an offensive was being planned. But how much did Kulg know about Poolto’s fleet movements?

The rendezvous point was meticulously picked to alleviate enemy suspicions of offensive operations, but the enemy would know they were on the move. You couldn’t evacuate all those facilities without someone noticing. Despite security measures, Krildon spies were just as effective as those from Poolto.

So the chess board is being set, Kulg, are you ready to play the final match?

He knew their attack was not a surprise, but their tactics might be. They had only one missing piece to the puzzle, where would the enemy deploy their resources? It made all the difference in the world, and to date, they all appeared huddled around the home world in a defensive posture. Tyler hoped his scouts would shed more light on the situation.

He enjoyed the meal the young chef prepared but dreaded the pending meeting with Eyleeria. He’d thought many times about calling her to cancel the evening briefings, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He felt guilty, but he wanted to see her, if for no other reason than to test his resolve. It was lame, but he waited patiently with a glass of wine.

Officer Shiir excused himself for the evening and assured Tyler he would return early in the morning to prepare breakfast. Tyler wasn’t sure why, but he told him to wait for his call before arriving in the morning. Officer Shiir gave him a puzzled look before saluting and leaving.

Tyler turned on one of the many monitors and tuned in a news broadcast to take his mind off Eyleeria. The wine was relaxing, but he felt too relaxed under the circumstances. It was like being a young man on his first date despite the Admiral’s memories. He felt himself blushing once more and quickly focused his attentions on the show.

He was beginning to immerse himself in the current story about fuel shortages and the effects on world economies when the door signal made him jump. Try as he might to remain calm, his heart raced with fear and anticipation.

“Come in,” he said casually, but it came out squeaky.

The door opened and Eyleeria entered smoothly. Though she wore a proper uniform, the front was undone further than regulations allowed. As she moved, Tyler saw cleavage peeking through the opening. He swallowed hard as he realized he could not be left alone with this woman.

“Good evening, Admiral,” she smiled coyly, “I have those briefings I promised.”

She moved to the kitchen and grabbed a glass before sitting down next to him, filling it from the open bottle of wine.

“I hope you don’t mind, I’ve had such a busy day?” She smiled over her glass, her lips pouting slightly before she took a sip.

He tried to find a voice. “Uh … uh, no, please help yourself.”

“I did.” She handed him the file of reports as she put down her glass. “Most of it is mundane, but there is an exciting report on the possible ramifications of a defeat.”

Tyler tried to imagine what could be exciting about a defeat, but he assumed her choice of words meant something else. He opened the file and leafed through the various reports, skipping most until he came to a preliminary intelligence report from his scout team. He pulled it out, thankful for the distraction.

As he read, Eyleeria leaned over him to grab the remote from the arm of the couch. As she fumbled to reach the remote, her breasts brushed him while he stared down at her cleavage. Instantly, images of her breasts heaving in the midst of ecstasy sprang to mind. The Admiral’s memories were intruding on his consciousness, demanding a hearing, demanding Eyleeria.

“Excuse me, Admiral, I just wanted to turn off the monitor so you could read in peace.”

As she turned off the broadcast and leaned back, Tyler saw a hint of color play across her skin. He knew his body responded in kind, but he didn’t know how to stop it.

Damn you, Admiral, why couldn’t you have had a male assistant?

The spirit of the Admiral remained quiet except for the full length movies playing in Tyler’s head. He turned away focusing on the report.

According to early reports, most of the defensive posture in the enemy fleet was correct, but the list of ships spotted was remarkably old. Tyler had known it! The new ships were missing because they would be used in Kulg’s trap. Where are you, Kulg?

The enemy had many facilities throughout the asteroid belt and could easily hide a sizable force, especially if those ships were smaller. Once the hulls and weapons were modified, the size of a ship became less-important. It made sense, smaller, faster ships could easily zip into the battle causing great damage before you realized you were under attack.

This was good. He began to see how Kulg would use the new offensive weapons. It made logical sense in light of their enemy’s current strength and capabilities. This changed the scope of their plan and Tyler realized the Vice Admiral’s tactics were too predictable to work against this new threat. They would have to scrap it and work up another plan. If Kulg used smaller packs of fast ships, their larger vessels wouldn’t stand a chance. The fleet’s fighters, though capable, probably wouldn’t last long enough to prevent the fleet’s defeat. They needed another way to counter this possibility.

As Tyler became lost in this new information, he felt Eyleeria’s hand gently rubbing his neck.

“Eyleeria, please … don’t … I’m married.” He tried to put force behind his words, but her touch weakened him.

“So am I. Did you know that, Nayllen?” She asked in a whisper.

Tyler went through the Admiral’s memories but could find no reference to her remark.

“I … uh … no, I guess I always assumed you were married to your career.”

“You mean married to your career, don’t you?” She smiled and moved her hand down the side of his arm.

“Please, think about your husband, what would he say?” Tyler felt trapped and he knew his resolve was quickly melting.

“My husband? Ha! He has his own love interests. I actually kind of like his choice, she’s a friend of mine.”

Tyler couldn’t believe her admission, what kind of woman was she? The word insane drifted through his mind.

“Come on, Nayllen, I can see you want me.” She sat on the edge of the couch as her hand moved further down his body. He tingled in response to her touch and felt the rise as promises of something delightful filled his senses. “What can your snooty wife offer that I can’t deliver in full?”

That startled him out of his dream state as he thought about Toosia and their unborn child. He removed her hand from his crotch and backed away from her.

“I love my wife—we are to have a child.” His pleas didn’t stop Eyleeria.

“I know about your child, Nayllen, I, too, once held onto that fantasy. Unfortunately, duty prevented it from coming true.” She moved towards him as she pulled the zipper on her uniform down further.

“What do you mean?” He was confused by her comment. What did she mean? She wanted to have a child with the Admiral?

“Well, let’s just say this isn’t your first child, Nayllen.”

He couldn’t believe what she was saying, she’d been impregnated by the Admiral? Had she aborted the baby before it embarrassed them both? Was she serious? He couldn’t tell, but fear gripped him as she reached for the zipper on his uniform.

“The Ad … I got you pregnant?” He tried to push her hands away, but she persisted.

“Don’t worry, Nayllen, I took care of the situation. It was long ago, when we first started … you know.” With one swift motion, she had his zipper down and her hand between his legs. Despite the horrendous story she recounted, her ministrations felt good on a body that yearned for the love Toosia could not provide. He couldn’t prevent the excitement that sprang to life in her hands.

“Ah, there we go, dear, sit back and relax.” She unzipped the rest of her uniform and Tyler watched her sensuous body beckoning with rapid flashes of color and light. He knew his own body responded in kind and he lost himself to her efforts. He needed this release, he wanted this release, damn be to everything, he wanted her!

He reached through her open uniform and felt the hardness of her nipples. She trembled and pulsed with delight as she swung her leg over his, straddling his thigh tightly. She laughed a dark, menacing laugh bringing Tyler further into the moment.

He ripped off her uniform as she helped remove his before both fell into bed ablaze with the lights of passion. Their skin flashed in a frenzy that pushed them to new heights before pulling back. Then again, even higher before pulling back. He ached for her body, desire filling him with lust, pushing aside the last of all reason. She swung on top of him, and with one single move, thrust him inside as he began to swell to the pulsating sensations surrounding him.

He was lost in the moment as he held onto the music of their passion swaying to rhythmic beats as they merged into a single being, floating on a sea of ecstasy. He stared into her eyes as a red fire stared back from a demonic grin scaring him while bringing him closer to the edge of the abyss.

Other faces replaced Eyleeria’s as their bodies swayed to an invisible music. He saw Linda, Toosia, and other, more alien visages as he was swept further away. He knew their passion was greater than any they’d had before, but he didn’t care, he only cared that it continued to its ultimate conclusion, the release that would remove him from the cares and concerns plaguing his life. He wanted it more than life itself.

As the moment approached, he stared into the gruesome face of a monster, sharp white fangs dripping red blood as it reached for that elusive escape. Tyler ignored the horror above him and sent his body to the finish line, stretching to bring the moment sooner, yet making it last as long as possible.

His vision blurred as his body tensed so tight he thought it would break. The colored lights matched those of his partner, and together they reached the climax both had been working for. It went on forever as Tyler felt a never ending pulsing as Eyleeria’s body refused to let him go. He closed his eyes and fell back into the pillows his mind swimming through the pleasures of his body. Somewhere along the ride, he fell deep asleep and dreamed of caves with glowing lights, sweating bodies, and unbounded pleasures.

* * * *

Tyler heard a distinctive buzz in the distance. Did he need to do something about it? Was it an alarm to wake him? Was it a door or communications device?

He stirred as the buzzing was replaced with the quiet sound of a woman’s voice.

“Oh, yes, he’s here, I’ll just wake him.”

Tyler recognized Eyleeria’s voice as her body pressed against his and whispered in his ear.

“Darling, someone wishes to speak with you.” She kissed him lightly on the cheek as he turned over.

He crawled over her to the communication console which lit the room dimly. The time on the device read early morning. He swung his feet off the bed and composed himself for the screen.

“Yes?” He asked groggily.

The sound of a woman’s voice holding back tears startled him. He stared at the small screen into the pained eyes of Toosia.

Oh, my god!

Suddenly it dawned on him: the night, Eyleeria, her naked body beside him in bed. He heard her laughing at his predicament.

“Toosia!” He stumbled unable to think of anything to say. “I … uh … I’m just waking up. Sorry, didn’t mean to be so sleepy.”

“Stop it, Nayllen, just stop it!” Her face turned steely cold as she stared past him to the bed and Eyleeria.

Eyleeria continued to laugh, her naked body clearly visible.

“I’m so sorry, Toosia …” Tyler couldn’t think of a response. He’d let his weaknesses get the better of him and had been caught red handed. Anger boiled as he realized the immense pleasure Eyleeria was enjoying at their expense.

“I knew you were excited to get back into space—now I understand why.” Toosia’s voice quavered once more as the betrayal stung deeply. “I … just … wanted to wish you good luck … again.” She broke down in tears as Tyler remained speechless.

He’d hurt her worse than the Admiral ever had. He’d promised her a family and then pulled the dream right out from underneath her. It was a cold and heartless thing to do to a pregnant woman who’d suffered so much already.

Damn!

He turned to Eyleeria who continued laughing at his predicament. He flung the covers over her exposed breasts and gave her a sharp look of anger. Her smile disappeared, replaced with a vindictive look of rage. She flung the covers off and sprang out of bed.

Tyler turned back to Toosia. “I … thanks … Toosia, I don’t know what to say …” He stopped as words failed him.

“You don’t need to say anything, Nayllen, it’s all pretty clear, isn’t it?”

Her words hurt as the truth settled in. He’d lost Toosia and his chance to start a new life—a life and a family. Although he probably wouldn’t survive the battle, he’d at least had one bit of hope to fight for. Now, that was lost.

“Yes … I suppose it is.” He hung his head low, defeated by his weak character.

“I meant what I said, Nayllen,” she wiped her eyes, “good luck.” She paused briefly as though deciding how to end it. “Please bring peace to our world, without a father, our child will need it.”

Well, that was it, she didn’t want him back whether he won or not. She intended on raising the child herself, and Tyler didn’t blame her. He’d blown his opportunity by letting the small Tyler think for the big one.

Whispering, he stared into her wet eyes with regret. “Goodbye, Toosia—I really do love you.”

Her image faded, but Tyler saw a new set of tears pouring down her cheeks as his words stung.

A voice from behind cut through his grief. “You’re pathetic!” Eyleeria spat viciously before mocking his words. “’Oh, Toosia, I really do love you’. Yeah, I just needed to do my assistant for old time’s sake!”

She laughed cold and calculating as she moved towards the door.

“Our hero—pathetic!” She opened the door and stood against the corridor light for a moment. “It’s true what I said, you know.”

Tyler stood up and stared at the woman he’d scorned. “What’s that?” He asked while she waited.

“I’d been pregnant … before … with you.”

Her voice sounded less vindictive and more defeated as she made the admission. Without another word, she walked into the corridor and out of Tyler’s life.

He stared at the closed door through the darkness, wondering what he’d done. He thought about the pending battle and felt a cold chill run through his body. He’d screwed up the Admiral’s personal life, how would he screw up the Admiral’s professional life? Was this the end of Poolto and the defeat of its hero? Only a few days would tell.

* * * *

Unable to deal with his personal defeats, Tyler immersed himself in preparations for the upcoming offensive. Once they’d met up with the fleet, he held a command briefing to discuss his theory of how he expected Kulg to use their new offensive capabilities. Most agreed with his assessment and offered alternative plans to counter the threat.

The meeting was successful, and in the end they’d come up with a reasonable plan of attack. The fact they’d scrapped the Vice Admiral’s plan while in the field offered another level of security since only those within the immediate fleet knew about it. Tyler assumed the command staff was trustworthy since their lives were on the line. Communications beyond their immediate group was strictly forbidden except to confer with the Vice Admiral which Marshall Sliss personally took care of.

Tyler felt confident the leak that had cost them the previous offensive would not happen this time. If it still occurred outside the fleet, the plans they would divulge wouldn’t match the new ones. Though they were risky and much could go wrong, the risk must be taken if they wanted the element of surprise on their side.

The plan was to split up their resources into small attack units which Tyler expected Commandant Kulg to use. This gave them an added advantage of speed and maneuverability while diminishing their profile to the enemy. The smaller units wouldn’t last long against the new designs, but they only needed enough time to spring their own trap.

Tyler’s flagship and several battle cruisers would plot a dangerous course to attack the enemy’s command ships orbiting the Krildon home world. It was a dangerous plan since it would bring them into range of the planetary defense system. Fortunately, the false sensor readings they’d used on the last offensive would be used to confuse the defense system thus increasing their odds of sneaking past an unsuspecting fleet.

Tyler knew the enemy would have already changed their fleet sensors to detect the decoy ships, but he was willing to gamble they hadn’t changed the planetary defense grid as well. That change was more difficult to make, and most would never expect a rational commander to try to fool that system. That was the surprise, no one would ever dare attempt it.

Tyler made certain he outlined the dangers they faced during the battle. He clearly spelled out this would be their final conflict regardless of the outcome. They would either win the day with a stroke of luck, or most would be lost on the battlefield.

All the commanders solemnly swore they would do whatever it took to ensure victory, even at the cost of their own ships and lives. Minimizing operational losses was no longer a priority—only victory was important.

After the briefing, they broke down how the fleet would separate and where each unit would deploy. They’d used a combination of guesswork and scout intelligence to determine where the enemy’s ambushes were likely to be set. Each battle unit was given two coordinates to engage. The first was their best estimate, the second, another area with a lower probability. Unfortunately, only one of the four scout ships returned successfully, but two had launched homing beacons that made it back into Poolto controlled space before transmitting their intelligence.

Tyler regretted the losses, but the data they’d delivered was one more edge in determining where the enemy’s new resources were hidden. He only hoped Krildon was convinced the scouts hadn’t sent anything before being destroyed. If they’d monitored the communications channel, they’d have known no transmissions occurred. However, if they detected the small homing beacons, all could be lost. Regardless, they had to assume the best case scenario.

After subdividing into smaller units, the fleet broke up and headed to their mission coordinates. The flagship and battle cruisers remained to conduct tests with the fake sensor equipment to ensure it produced a plausible fleet. The enemy knew their approximate fleet strength, so they needed to match that number as closely as possible.

Tyler hoped that when the false sensor readings were engaged by Krildon’s planetary defense system, the Krildon fleet would instantly recognize it as a fake attack. Their fleet’s sensors would discount the ruse making the command ships hold fast rather than engage the false fleet. This gave them an element of surprise for the few ships, led by the flagship, to sneak up behind the unsuspecting enemy.

Although it was plausible some in their fleet would detect real ship signatures, Tyler counted on Kulg to dismiss them as sensor aberrations. What insane person would dare take on the massive firepower of the planetary defense system for a few ships? Tyler admitted it was absurd, and if the planetary defense system destroyed more than three of their attack ships, the plan failed.

Their intended targets were the fleet command ships stationed in a defensive posture confirmed by the scouts. Tyler assumed one or more command ships contained the new hull plating, while the others would be of an older design. That would be perfect since they’d calculated nuclear missiles could thwart the new hull plating. Though the plating was effective at stopping the particle weapons, nuclear missiles could easily break through the new hulls causing significant damage.

The problem with nuclear missiles was you had to get close for a successful attack against modern ships. Krildon counter measures were notoriously accurate at stopping incoming missiles, which was why particle weapons became the weapon of choice during space battles. You could be further away to fire them and once released, there was no way to stop them.

Again, this was another surprise that might help them win the battle. If their ships could sneak past the planetary defense grid into the midst of their command ships, they could launch a missile attack where some of the missiles might get through their counter measures.

Each of their attack ships had a primary and secondary target. They wouldn’t know exactly where each target was until they came out into the fleet, but the speed and surprise was likely to get them close enough before launching. Tyler told each commander to let loose their entire arsenal on the primary target. Destroying those was more important than the subordinate ships.

Once the command ships were disabled, the rest of the ships might be dispatched assuming they still had the old hull designs. It was a lot of ifs that had to go their way, but no other plan seemed likely to work against Krildon’s new weaponry.

Once the false fleet was detected, the smaller battle units would engage primary targets. If their commanders and crew were sharp enough to outwit the enemy with flying and battle tactics, the Krildon weapons may prove less effective. Tyler had faith some of the mini-units would succeed, but knew many others would fail due to the younger, less experienced command staff leading them.

They’d used command experience to determine which units attacked which locations. The highest probability locations were assigned to units with the most experience. The lower probability areas were given to the less experienced commanders. Again, it was mostly guesswork, so they could have got it all wrong. Nevertheless, it was meant more as a diversion while the sneak attack on their command fleet was underway.

When the smaller units engaged, the enemy command staff would be inundated with reports from multiple fronts across the logical area of an offensive. As they tried to reassess their own plans in the midst of this change, Tyler hoped their attention would be diverted from the real attack coming from behind. On paper and in theory, it all appeared like a great plan, but Tyler understood the various things that could go wrong. They were taking an enormous gamble where the winner took all.

D-day was set to take place the following day, and the flagship and its battle elements moved toward their enemy’s home world undetected. To accomplish this, they had to slingshot around the sun to gain both speed and stealth, but the risk was a discernible weakening of their hull plating due to the intense heat and radiation. They’d had no choice if they wanted to come up from behind the bulk of Krildon’s command staff. The enemy would naturally think the decoy ships were meant to cause them to redeploy to the other side of the planet, but, they would remain in position while permitting the planetary defense system to deal with the supposed threat.

Hiding in the decoy was not an unusual tactic but one that had become so obvious, most commanders overlooked it. The Admiral’s memories confirmed that sometimes the best tactics were the simplest and most obvious. Tyler hoped his memories were right.

He lay in his quarters awake as sleep eluded him on the eve of such an epic battle. Even the bottle of wine he’d finished did not cause drowsiness. He lay on the bed, contemplating everything that had happened and would happen. None of the thoughts brought satisfaction, which returned him to the incident with Adanni. After that single encounter, he hadn’t heard or seen the alien since.

Considering everything that had happened, he was beginning to believe some force caused the unfortunate series of events. But, so far, he could explain everything naturally. People often attributed events in their lives to supernatural entities, trying to find meaning in the senseless death and destruction that was a normal part of existence. For mortal beings, this made sense, but for an Onyalum like Adanni, why would he fear or attribute events to a god? The only thing Tyler could come up with was that Adanni devised a way to escape his banishment, but it required Tyler to believe he was under the control of a god. Unfortunately, Tyler couldn’t see how or why this would work.

The sound of his communication console startled him out of his thoughts. He clicked on the screen as the display showed a multi-party call requiring the wall monitors to see all parties properly. He set the controls and three screens sprang to life.

Tyler was dumbfounded by the visages that appeared before him. One was the face of a very angry, or was it frightened, Toosia. One held the image of his Krildon counter part, Commandant Kulg, who appeared uncomfortable at being in the presence of his enemy. But the third screen must have been an illusion as Tyler dug deep into the Admiral’s memories to confirm who he saw. The image was the Admiral’s supposedly dead father, Nattur Osloo.

The three separate images presented such a contradiction of meanings, Tyler was rendered speechless.

“Well, my boy, you act as if you’ve seen a ghost.” Nattur smiled tightly at his pun.

Tyler stood to move closer to the wall to verify what he was seeing and hearing.

“That’s because I am seeing a ghost! You’ve been dead for so many years—or so we thought.”

“Yes, and that was what we wanted you to think. I am glad the Emperor is as predictable as ever.” Nattur took on a more serious expression when he mentioned the Emperor.

Tyler stared from Nattur to Kulg, searching for the connection that existed.

“So, you work for the enemy now, do you, father?”

Nattur dismissed Tyler’s comment with a wave of his hand. “I work for peace, Nayllen, same as Krildon.”

“Oh?” Tyler asked sarcastically. “Then this conflict has simply been a mission to find peace?”

“Don’t be a child, Nayllen, of course this hasn’t been a war to find peace, but the time to find it is now, and the Krildon people are ready to end it.” Nattur looked passionate as he said this, and Tyler assumed he believed what he was saying.

Tyler turned towards the uneasy Kulg. “And you agree with this search for peace, Commandant?”

Kulg looked defensive, but cleared his throat as he spoke in a rather high pitched tone. “My world has had enough of this conflict, and … we wish it over … yes.”

Tyler smirked. “You didn’t answer my question, Commandant, do you wish for peace?”

Kulg looked offended at Tyler’s rebuke, but readily answered. “Yes, I, too, wish for peace.”

Tyler laughed. “I’m sure you do.”

Kulg looked angry, but held his tongue.

Tyler turned to Toosia who still looked pale. Tyler felt a pang of concern mixed with curiosity at how she played into this affair.

“Well, dear, what do you have to say about this? I already know you want peace.”

“Nayllen, please—I couldn’t help—stop them from doing this.”

Her words sounded defeated, and Tyler felt instant concern.

“What’s wrong, Toosia? Where are you?” He demanded.

Her face moved to the right, replaced with that of an older gentleman Tyler thought looked familiar, but who he was certain he didn’t know. He searched the Admiral’s memories, but drew a blank.

“Hello, Nayllen.” The man said casually. “Let me finally introduce myself to the man who has probably done more for my causes than anyone on Poolto.” He smiled smugly, but Tyler couldn’t place the face. Still, there was something familiar.

“My name is Nayllen Hooss.” The man smiled broadly as if the name should mean something.

Tyler looked him eye to eye, but still no recognition. “Okay, you have my first name, but I still don’t know who you are and how you fit into this picture.”

“On the contrary, my friend, it is you who have my first name.” He looked off to the right. “Isn’t that right, Nattur?”

So, he was a friend of the Admiral’s father, but was he correct about the Admiral being named after him?

“Is this true, father? Am I named after this person?”

Nattur looked unsure how to respond, but finally conceded. “Yes. We worked together in the diplomatic corps on Krildon many years ago, before you were born.”

Tyler absorbed this, but couldn’t piece together what was really going on.

“Fine, and what are you doing with my wife?” He asked with a hint of anger.

“Oh, that? Yes, well, let’s just say she is a guest of mine until this is all settled.”

Tyler didn’t like the veiled threats underlying the man’s words. “I see, and what is it we are trying to settle?”

The man looked surprised at Tyler’s question. “Why, the war of course.”

Tyler laughed in mock surprise. “Oh, good, I was afraid it was something more serious.”

Nattur jumped in. “Look, son, we are serious about ending this war, but we don’t want a lot of bloodshed to accomplish our goal.”

Tyler smiled tightly. “I see, but kidnapping family members is all right?”

Nattur looked nervous at the accusation. “Well … it was necessary.”

Tyler shot back. “Did you know she is pregnant with your grandson?”

Nattur lowered his head as if ashamed. “Yes, we know.”

“Come, come, Admiral, let’s dispense with the theatrics.” Nayllen countered. “We have a proposition and Toosia is our insurance you’ll accept it.”

Tyler responded coldly. “I think the word you meant to use was ‘coercion’.”

“Very well, Nayllen, if that makes you feel better.” Nayllen’s expression turned sour. “But let’s do move on with this … time is short … as you well know.”

Tyler thought about their pending battle and began to worry what they knew about it.

“What does that mean?” He asked as casual as possible.

“Please, Admiral, do not play us for fools, we do not tolerate idiots lightly.” The man’s anger was clear. “We know of your petty offensive and I assure you Krildon is prepared for anything your pathetic fleet can throw at it.”

Tyler turned toward Kulg who looked confident at Nayllen’s admission. The question was, how much did they know?

“I see, then you’ll forgive me if I don’t believe you. Anyone can assume what you say—I am in space with my fleet after all.” Tyler was probing for what they really knew.

“I see.” Nayllen’s voice was flat. “Commandant, can you please enlighten our good Admiral?”

Kulg didn’t look pleased, but his high pitched voice spelled out what they knew about the Admiral’s fleet. When he finished his litany, his face took on a boorish complexion as if this were all child’s play.

Tyler held his expression emotionless. Although Kulg had incredible intelligence, it was the Vice Admiral’s plan he’d outlined. Tyler smiled inwardly—they weren’t privy to the new mission.

“Well,” Tyler conceded, “I see you are very well versed in Poolto military secrets. I don’t suppose you’d like to share how you know all this?” Tyler didn’t think he’d admit it, but he had to try.

Instead, Nayllen jumped in to answer for Kulg. “He got it from the Imperial Palace. Where else do you get Poolto intelligence?”

Tyler had to think about that. Why would the Emperor want to foil this mission, it didn’t make any sense?

“I see,” Tyler didn’t, but he wanted to keep them revealing, “and I suppose the Emperor wants peace as well?”

Nayllen looked as if he were lecturing a child. “How you have survived this long, Admiral, is beyond my comprehension. Of course the Emperor does not want peace—he is the only one who wants this conflict to continue!”

Tyler was really confused—what was the man talking about? “Then why does he want his fleet destroyed?” He tried to sound bold, but he began to sense he was truly in the dark.

Nattur spoke up. “To destroy you, Nayllen—and severely cripple the military.”

“But why?” Tyler tried to grasp what they were saying.

Nayllen responded coolly. “Because, he doesn’t care about Poolto, he only cares about his power. You are a serious threat to that power—more serious than Krildon. With you and most of the military out of the way, he can broker a temporary truce with Krildon while he rebuilds his forces under his direct control. After that, the war continues unabated.”

“But if Krildon knows this and destroys our fleet, what’s to stop them from invading Poolto?”

Nayllen looked angry once again. “They will lose a great deal of their own forces in this battle, despite your assured defeat. The planetary defense grid around Poolto is sufficient to prevent invasion by remaining forces—for now.”

Tyler contemplated what he was saying. They had talked about not wanting to spill a lot of blood to accomplish their goals, and the battle would certainly do that. That meant they wanted to avoid the battle, but how?

“Okay, then, what is your proposition?” Tyler asked.

The three faces looked uneasy, but Nattur finally responded. “We want you to give us the military command codes to disable Poolto’s fleet.”

“Is that all?” Tyler asked sarcastically.

“No, we want you to turn back the fleet, and demand the abdication of the Emperor to be replaced with your interim government until elections are held.”

“Oh, a coup, is it?” Tyler couldn’t believe the brashness of their plan. “And you need the command codes, why?”

Nayllen looked unabashed. “Let’s just say insurance in case some of your commanders decide they don’t like our plan to end the war.”

“I see.” Tyler actually began to understand what they really wanted. “And I suppose Commandant Kulg, having been given the keys to my fleet, will simply sit back and watch the coup take place without firing a shot?”

The commandant shifted uneasily at the comment as Nattur spoke on his behalf. “Yes, he’ll stand with you against the Emperor, as will their President.”

“Oh, that changes everything—the President will be there as well? Why didn’t you say so?”

“Look, son,” Nattur pleaded, “Krildon is tired of this conflict and their President supports our plan. If we stand together against the Emperor, he’ll have no choice but to back down.”

“And if he is so hell bent on maintaining power, why would he ever back down?” Tyler asked.

Nayllen responded. “Because we believe you can win the support of the people as their national hero. If it comes down to a choice between you and peace, or the Emperor and war, we believe you’ll win hands down.”

Tyler wasn’t so certain the Admiral’s status was sufficient to protect him as a traitor. The carrot of peace was a good way to approach it, everyone was tired of war, and rumblings among the populace had turned negative—but a coup? That would be hard for many to swallow. The Emperor had always been loved by most on Poolto, would they easily cast him aside in favor of his Supreme Military Commander? It was a gambit that may or may not work. Still, the offer of peace was tempting, but Tyler didn’t trust them.

“And where is the President?” He asked calmly.

“He is waiting for us to convince you of our plan.” Nattur responded with confidence.

“And what if instead of the command codes I give you my word I will disable any of my own ships should they turn against us?” Tyler still didn’t want to turn over the command codes until he was certain he could believe them.

Nayllen and Nattur appeared to exchange glances despite being worlds apart, but Nayllen addressed the issue directly. “We would feel more comfortable with them in case something were to happen to you.”

“I see, and I would feel more comfortable keeping them so that you make sure ‘nothing’ happens to me.” Tyler wasn’t going to give in easily.

“Son, please, this is the best way for us to end this bloody conflict.” Nattur tried to appeal to the Admiral’s familial bonds, but he didn’t realize his son was already dead.

Tyler realized this was why Nattur was brought into the conspiracy, to help convince his son to go along with it. Well, Nattur, you picked the wrong side this time.

“What makes you think I want to end this conflict? Did any of you think about that possibility?” He looked at each in turn. “I’ve spent most of my life fighting this war, and maybe I don’t want to just retire or take over the government.” He was on a roll and wanted to see how they would react to his goading.

Nattur looked saddened by Tyler’s comments. “And is that worth the life of your wife and unborn child?”

Tyler confronted the threat head on. “Yes, it is.” He tried to make it sound cold as though Toosia meant nothing to him. He was trying to call their bluff, but wasn’t certain it would work. “Ask Toosia yourself, Nayllen. Our relationship is over. She caught me with my assistant again, you know, the one I have been fooling around with for so many years. Maybe you should have kidnapped her instead.”

“Nayllen,” Nattur spoke quietly, “you don’t mean that, you still love Toosia.”

“Well, father, maybe I do and maybe I don’t, but either way, she’s not worth the price of a planet. No one is.”

The three images appeared resolute in the face of his threats. Nayllen finally spoke firmly. “Is that your final word, Admiral?”

Everyone held their breath while Tyler thought about his decision. How much did he care for Toosia, for Poolto, for anything? If Adanni was right, then no matter what he did it would turn out badly. Was it better to go out a hero in a blaze of glory or as a traitor trying to overthrow the Emperor?

There was something so familiar about all of this, Tyler had that incredible feeling of déjà vu. It was as if he’d been put in this position before, and had played out their game, but lost. One of them was not telling the truth, he was certain of that, but which one and why?

Nattur seemed more likely a pawn than a conspirator, but Nayllen was an unknown quantity. Tyler still felt like he should know him. He instantly disliked the man, and he didn’t think it was only because he’d kidnapped Toosia. There was something more sinister at work within him, but Tyler couldn’t figure out what.

As far as Kulg was concerned, his motives were obvious. If he conquered the Poolto fleet without firing a single shot, he would be an instant hero on his home world. Perhaps he even aspired to political office. President Kulg? A national hero who ends a war would almost surely win in a landslide against any opponent.

It was a dangerous gambit Tyler played, but he wasn’t ready to hand over everything just yet.

“No, Nayllen, that is not my final word. I will decide after I have spoken with the president of Krildon. Call me when he is available.”

He quickly switched off the communication device and sat heavily on the couch. He wasn’t sure how they would react to his bold move, but he decided he would continue with their battle plans anyway. Toosia might still be spared, he had nothing to lose, and he still had the edge that they didn’t know the new offensive plans. It was little hope but better than nothing.

* * * *

It didn’t take long for the conspirators to call back with the president of Krildon, Dragor Paat. The man looked far more docile than Commandant Kulg, but underneath his high, calm voice, a serious intelligence was at play. Tyler immediately considered the man a greater threat than Kulg. Clearly, Kulg took orders from up high, and whatever scheme they were hatching had most definitely come from the Office of the President.

They didn’t speak long, and the President conceded nothing in either his tone or the plan. He gave his word that Kulg would hold back their forces after they received the command codes, but that they were necessary for the plan to move forward. He promised Tyler they would both present the abdication request to Emperor Yooso together. Despite his obvious intelligence and power, Tyler found the brief discussion compelling.

However, he didn’t trust any of them and so he gave them the command codes only after he had changed them throughout the fleet. One of the perks of command was being able to modify the command codes without anyone knowing. He assumed they could validate the old code while the new code was being propagated. This way, when the time came for them to try to use it, the code would fail.

Tyler had already decided a coup was not the correct way for the Admiral to complete his mission. He realized his action may cost the life of Toosia and their unborn child, but he was willing to risk it if it meant victory for Poolto. Something deep inside warned against entering their conspiracy. All of the parties were unknown quantities, and considering the lengths they went to kidnap Toosia and coerce Tyler into action, it was quite plausible they would not hold up their end of the bargain.

Nonetheless, Tyler agreed, or rather lied, to the President and the rest of the conspirators that he would comply with their plan. Instead, he would execute his new offensive, this time with an even larger element of surprise.

The conspirators demanded he stand down the offensive and rendezvous with Krildon command ships at a given set of coordinates between the two worlds’ territories. It was as neutral a place as they could find. Luckily, Tyler had convinced them he could not stand down the offensive too soon or they might tip off the Emperor something was amiss. Instead, he convinced them that after their rendezvous, he would contact the fleet commanders and spell out the plan for the Emperor to step down and for real peace to be initiated.

Tyler imagined only a handful of commanders would ever follow through on those orders, but it didn’t matter since it was a ruse. Their offensive was going to take place even if it meant they all went down in a blaze of glory. It likely changed the dynamics of the command ships around the Krildon home world, assuming the conspirators actually went to the rendezvous, but Tyler was almost certain their plan was a ruse as well. He knew a trap waited whatever ships showed up at the designated coordinates, so he moved one of their small attack units to make the meeting instead. He was sacrificing those ships and their crew, but he had no choice if they were to move forward with their own plan.

His communication console signaled the command code update was completed except for the three ships he’d sent to the rendezvous location. To add to the ruse, he assumed letting a few ships be disabled when the enemy’s trap was sprung would help convince them they had the correct codes. This would cause delays in their attack while they waited for the command codes to work. Of course, they wouldn’t work, so once again the Poolto fleet had an upper hand at the outset of the battle.

Satisfied, Tyler clicked off the console and headed for the bridge. The party was about to begin, and he wanted to prepare his fleet beforehand. He’d thought about telling the commanders about the conspirators, but decided that might put too much doubt and fear of betrayal into his staff. He wanted them fully committed to the battle rather than worrying whether their leader was involved in a coup.

As he walked through the corridors towards the central part of the ship, he rehearsed one of the Admiral’s best rallying speeches he could dig from memory. It was from a long ago battle, at the beginning of the Admiral’s career, so Tyler figured most would not recognize it. Even if they did, it was a great speech and would move many. They knew the odds, they knew what was at stake, and they knew most would not return. It would be a solemn and moving event, so Tyler practiced to make sure he could deliver it properly.

* * * *

Everything was set, every asset in its proper position. The military was poised for the final conflict that would determine the outcome of the war. Timing was critical, and every ship in the fleet waited for orders from the flagship.

The first to engage would be the sacrificial unit headed for the rendezvous coordinates. The commander was a Captain Trool and he was considered an able commander despite his youth. Tyler hated having to spend him for the extra element of surprise, but he’d no choice if the overall plan was to have any chance at success.

There were ways to override command codes, though Tyler doubted anyone on those ships would know about them. Still, if the Captain was resourceful, he might still surprise the enemy with a disabled ship. Tyler turned his mind from the obvious outcome of that engagement and concentrated on his own unit’s attack.

The ruse fleet was being created in multiple waves that would likely be detected before they came near the home world. Fortunately, by that time, they wouldn’t know what was real and what wasn’t as the diversionary battles would be well underway. Tyler assumed the Krildon assets would shift slightly from their original speculations. Therefore, the attacks on the primary targets still had a chance of making an impact.

When Kulg detected the false fleet bearing down on his home world, he would instantly assume it was a diversion to pull his fleet resources away from the real direction of attack. Instead, the actual attack would be hidden in the fake fleet and might catch them off guard.

Once again, Tyler ran through the whole scenario but didn’t like the various aspects that could easily shatter the plan. But it was the only gamble they had, and he was going to play it to the end.

“Sir, we have reached the go position.” A young bridge officer called crisply. “Should we send the engage signal to battle group three?”

Here we go! Tyler thought nervously.

“Yes, please release the first signal.” Tyler smiled as he prepared for battle.

Battle group three would soon engage the waiting trap before being disabled by the command codes. The communications with them would cease quickly as the command codes disabled all tactical systems. A few minor contacts would make it through from the smaller ships that would not be disabled, but the content would be confusing. Tyler would make sure the rest of the fleet ignored the information and continued to their objectives.

The communications from battle group three was put over the bridge system so everyone could hear what happened real-time. So far, no enemy units were spotted or engaged.

Tyler listened as Captain Trool finally gave the first indication something was happening.

“Wait … we have multiple ships bearing down on our position … fast, small attack ships likely armed with the new particle weapons.” Tyler had expected that, they wanted no survivors. “Okay, move into attack formation and prepare to engage enemy ships. Wait a min—” the communications went dead as the command codes disabled their ship wide systems.

Tyler was pleased the Captain hadn’t been able to transmit what was happening to his ship. Still, several others could be heard trying to contact the lead ship that had become silent.

A couple called back to the flagship to report their command ships were disabled and whether they should continue the attack or pull back?

Tyler hated to condemn them, but the mission must not fail. “Ask them if they have any idea what has happened to the command ships.” He ordered as the communication officer relayed the question.

The response was immediate. “We can’t tell what happened, but sensors indicate all the ship wide systems have been disabled except for life support. It’s as if someone shut them down systematically.”

Tyler acted surprised by this information. “Damn, we have treachery in our midst! Contact all commanders and tell them to secure their system and subsystem access points in case there are other saboteurs on board their ships. Tell the remaining battle group three ships to defend their helpless command ships as long as possible.” Tyler paused before he gave the final order. “Tell them … it is not acceptable for those ships to be commandeered by the enemy. Ask them to respond that they understand my orders.”

The young officer paused from the import of Tyler’s words before relaying the orders to the fleet and contacting battle group three. The remaining ships responded they understood the orders and would not let the fleet down. The last they heard, the officer of one of the ships had been cutoff by the sound of explosions hitting his hull. The blast they’d heard had come from one of the new weapons, and based on the sound, those ships wouldn’t last long enough to destroy their own command vessels.

Tyler sighed as the count of lost soldiers ran through his mind. Operational casualties were a fact of war, but this was a case of treachery by their own leader. Tyler only hoped the ruse continued.

He issued final orders for the rest of the fleet and told his bridge to hold off the false fleet until the battles were underway. The large display in front of the captain’s chair showed various elements and their locations. Unfortunately, the bridge was too old to display enemy elements as well. They would have to monitor the battles through the command channels only. At least those were secure.

Already, calls came in as most of the units engaged enemy elements. As predicted, most of the enemy ships were deploying the new weapons and hulls, and it was proving a decisive force in the outcome of the battles. Still, they heard several ships were able to release nuclear missiles and destroy some enemy ships. Nonetheless, the lights on the large monitor were flashing off far too quickly as their fleet was being destroyed or disabled. It was clear they wouldn’t last long—Tyler only hoped they could do some serious damage before all were vanquished.

“Deploy the false fleet now and increase our speed for attack, Captain.” He called quietly to the man watching their fleet being disabled on the large view screen. “The planetary defense grid is well adapted at tracking long and short range ships with its weapons; however, the closer we are, the less likely we’ll be targeted as the ghost fleet echoes larger ships. Their algorithms were designed to attack the largest elements first, so stay close to the grid as we move in.”

“Yes, sir, we’ll skim their net.” The Captain responded.

“Yes, well, just don’t collide with it.” Tyler turned back to the young communication officer. “Please inform our battle group we are ready for the final run into the Krildon home system.”

“Yes, sir.” The man assured Tyler as he relayed orders.

The large screen on the bridge changed views as the smaller battles shrunk down to half the size to make room for their own battle unit’s run. The screen showed the Krildon home world, the supposed locations of their command elements, and the entire planetary defense grid.

The way the false ships were to attack was by surrounding the planet as they headed for the command ships. The real ships were part of the trailing wave so that most of the defense grid weapons should be engaged as they approached. Tyler wasn’t sure how the defense grid would respond when the ships it fired upon continued their advance. He hoped it would continue to fire on the large, false targets as the smaller ships slipped through.

Once inside the grid, they would split up to approach the fleet from the other side of the planet in different directions. This would fool the command ships as they detected one or two real targets hiding among the swarming fake ships. They would likely discount them as mere blips on their sensors as they were overloaded with the ghost fleet.

They were coming upon the planet quickly, and Tyler could already see the defense grid firing on the ghost ships inundating the planet. It was certain some outpost or satellite would detect their real ships visually, but it would be too late to correlate that information in time. Their speed was tremendous, and they would already have a difficult time slowing to engage the enemy. But speed was important if the ruse was to succeed.

Tyler listened as Captain Saleen executed various maneuvers to keep them from being targeted while they moved in close to the enormous weapons surrounding the planet. The screen indicated the other ships also executed their own moves as they dispersed on separate trajectories. So far, everything went according to plan.

Tyler glanced at the smaller battles and noted two units were completely wiped out while another two had yet to engage any enemy elements. Apparently their primary targets did not contain a waiting attack group. They were heading for their secondary targets, but those might already be gone as they were pulled off to assist other battle units. Tyler had a brilliant insight.

“Officer, can we still contact those two battle groups who are not engaged.”

The officer checked his controls before answering. “Yes, I believe I can relay a signal to them despite enemy jamming.”

Tyler smiled. “Good, tell them to double their speed and head right for the Krildon home world. Tell them to make as much noise as possible so Krildon thinks they are the main battle unit of our offensive.”

“Yes, sir, I’ll try to relay those orders.”

The young man busily worked controls to send the request. Tyler thought it was too late to be effective, but he had to try anyway. If nothing else, after their unit engaged the command ships, the defensive elements around Krildon would be in such a state of confusion, those other two units might actually have a chance at doing some real damage. He knew the commander of one of the units and knew the man to be an experienced and capable officer. Krildon would feel this battle despite their overwhelming superiority.

Tyler watched the distant command ships come into view over the horizon as they swung out of the defense grid and back into space. So far, no real ship had been hit by the defense grid, so the ruse was working. He felt a shudder as a particle weapon hit the outer hull. Fortunately, they could withstand several of those blasts before real damage occurred, by then, they should be engaging the command ships which would prevent the defense grid from continuing to fire on them.

The Captain executed wonderful maneuvers in the face of the one hit and lined up their primary target in his sights. Surprisingly, no shots were being fired by the command ships, and Tyler thought their luck was holding out. The command ships ignored the mirage fleet fooling the defense grid and continued waiting for the pending attack from the wrong direction.

He looked back at the monitor as the two unengaged units followed his orders and turned their trajectories toward Krildon’s home world. Tyler assumed the Krildon command was preparing for that attack while their ass hung out in the wind. The screen showed the other ships in their unit were fast approaching their own primary targets, and it would take only a minute before they engaged the enemy for one last time.

“Fire retro engines now, slow to attack speed and engage primary target with all missiles loose!” The Captain’s excitement rallied his crew as they executed the orders flawlessly.

Tyler knew firing their engines would immediately tip off the enemy sensors, but it would be too late for them to react properly. The trap was being sprung perfectly.

Tyler watched as hundreds of red dots sprang from their ship toward the primary target. Each missile took a different path pre-chosen to confuse the enemy’s counter measures. Tyler was certain several would hit the target successfully.

The screen showed the other ships also released their missiles, and the anticipated impact held everyone motionless. Several of the targets began to move as their sensors detected an incoming attack from behind. Already, Tyler heard the occasional sound of older particle weapons hitting their hull futilely.

They knew they couldn’t stop all the missiles, so they were trying to do as much damage to their attackers before they were taken out of commission.

Captain Saleen immediately took evasive actions as he dove the ship down to come up underneath the command ship already taking missile strikes. The blasts could be seen on the monitor, but it did not tell them how much damage was caused.

As though reading Tyler’s thoughts, the enemy ship’s marker on the board disappeared. That meant only one thing: their missiles had completely destroyed the target. Some of the missiles, now without a valid solution, flew onward awaiting new orders.

Captain Saleen recognized this and immediately reengaged them on secondary targets moving in for battle. Most wouldn’t make it, but it didn’t matter, they already fulfilled their primary mission.

The screen showed five of the seven primary targets had been completely destroyed, one was disabled and one was moving in to the battle as it had already dispatched its attacker. Tyler knew that ship had the new hull plating and particle weapons, so he relayed the information to the remaining ships in their units. He ordered them into close fighting proximity to prevent the new particle weapons from being used on their own ships.

Tyler relayed orders to change the screen display of the enemy ships outfitted with the new weapons based on their current sensor readings. It took a moment, but suddenly four of the ten remaining enemy ships changed color. They were severely outgunned and would not last long against the new weapons.

“Captain, move in as close as possible to the six remaining enemy ships with the older technology. We must prevent the new weapons from being used too soon. We have two of our other battle units coming to our aid, but they won’t get here for a while. We must hold off these ships until they arrive, do you understand?”

The Captain nodded as he began ordering his crew to execute various changes in their trajectory to bring them in close to the older ships. The ship rocked with the occasional sound of particle weapons, but assuming they could move in close enough, they would be less vulnerable to the enemy missiles. Their arsenal was depleted, so they would have to hug close enough to the enemy to ensure they couldn’t fire missiles for fear of damaging their own ship. It was risky and the chance of a collision was high. Still, a collision might buy them more time as the enemy ship tried to evade and escape. The same orders were relayed to the remaining five ships, and Tyler watched as each moved towards the yellow ships on the screen.

The battle moved fast, and so far luck protected them during their surprise. Tyler grimaced as another of their ships blinked off the monitor. The larger enemy ship had taken it out and moved quickly toward another one close to its secondary target.

Tyler knew that if Kulg was anywhere within the battle, the larger ship equipped with the new weaponry was the likely place. Although the specifications of the ship indicated a fast battle cruiser and not a flagship, Tyler assumed they simply hadn’t had time to retrofit the flagship. He knew Kulg was onboard, and he was a serious threat to their success.

Damn!

He’d hoped one of the primary targets would have been Kulg, he simply hadn’t figured it would be a newly outfitted ship. As their ship shuddered from the constant bombardment, he looked up the specifications on the ship and was surprised to see it wasn’t an old retrofitted ship, but a new design recently deployed. Based on the sensor readings, they were dead if that ship engaged them.

He looked at the screen and saw his two battle units coming closer to entering the battlefield. The new enemy ship quickly dispatched his other ship while taking out one of their own ships. So, Kulg was willing to destroy his own assets to get at them. Well, so be it, it would at least even the odds slightly when their battle units engaged. Still, the newer cruiser was likely going to win this day.

He hesitated in giving additional orders, wondering what chance his two units had. They could probably disable or destroy most of the remaining ships except the battle cruiser, but would that be enough? To win the day, what was it they really needed? To destroy the command infrastructure of their enemy and demonstrate their new weapons were not enough to turn the tide. The question was how could they accomplish that goal?

In an instant, he knew they only had one chance, and it was a thin one.

“Captain, break off your attack and join the two battle units coming into view. Relay the order to our remaining two ships.”

The Captain executed the order as the other two ships changed direction and headed back into space. In response, the enemy ships pursued the fleeing Poolto ships. Tyler knew their ships couldn’t handle much more, but he hoped they wouldn’t have to as they reached the fresh units just entering the arena.

Tyler ordered the two units to form a phalanx with the smallest ships out front followed by larger ones. The order was simple, move on the battle cruiser and launch all their missiles when they came into range. He told the captains of the smaller vessels he understood they would not likely make it close enough to release their missiles, so they were to release them as soon as they came into the range of the bigger ship’s particle weapon.

It was a suicide run, but it was their last hope. The smaller enemy ships moved to surround them while continuing to fire upon this new phalanx as it moved inexorably toward the large command cruiser. Kulg would know what they were doing, but Tyler gambled his confidence in his new weapons would prevent him from pulling off.

Tyler’s smaller ships released their entire arsenal of missiles as a blast from the battle cruiser took out one in a single shot. Still they continued, the sound of blasts on their hull the only indication the enemy tried to stop their suicide run. The large battle cruiser continued to take out the smaller ships one by one as they moved closer. They were down to only eleven ships in the formation, but they were nearly close enough to release their missiles.

An enormous explosion near the rear of their ship threw everyone to the floor as their ship spun out of control and out of formation. Alarms rang through the bridge as systems reported widespread damage from enemy missiles. Tyler had known it was only a matter of time, but their ship had been only protection for the other ships on the attack run. The large screen flicked off as power faltered, but not before Tyler had seen their formation let loose their stock of missiles.

Suddenly the bridge was plunged into blackness as the sound of a particle weapon ripped through their exposed hull causing further damage. They were crippled and without hope. Although the bridge had not lost pressure, it was only a matter of time before they suffocated without power for life support systems. Tyler’s mind raced with a list of systems he could readily tell were severely damaged or destroyed.

Considering the spin pressing them against the interior of the bridge, he assumed they’d lost at least a third of the ship and all their engines. That meant no means to generate serious power. Only backup systems would be available, though most would have been disconnected from the power grid after the enormous blast that shook the ship. Tyler could see a faint glow from the bridge’s entrance as emergency lighting flicked on. Apparently, the rest of the emergency lighting was destroyed.

He called out to the Captain to see how many people were operational. “Captain, are you all right?”

“Yes, just knocked around a bit.” The reply came from Tyler’s right.

“Good, get a count of your people as quickly as possible and get someone to restore emergency power to the bridge.” Tyler felt pain in his side, and an exploration by his hands revealed wetness on his uniform. He was bleeding, but it appeared superficial.

Tyler heard the rest of the crew responding to the Captain’s queries, and he was glad to hear one crew member answer that he was already working on the power, although he complained about the force of the spin pressing them into the floor. Despite this, he expressed optimism he could restore power shortly.

Tyler crawled toward the location of the Captain’s voice. “Captain, is there any way we can stop this spin without engines?”

“I was just wondering that same thing, Admiral.” The Captain sounded as though he was hurt. “I believe we have some atmospheric dump nozzles around this part of the ship that could be used for maneuvering, but without access to control systems, we may be unable to engage them. Ships this large are not designed for such tiny maneuvers.” He finished with a wince.

“I understand, Captain—see what you can do.”

Lights flicked on briefly as the crewman’s fiddling began to restore power. Tyler saw some of the lights on various control panels begin to glow, indicating power was being restored.

Finally, the lights came back on, and Tyler was surprised to see so little external damage. Most of the crew struggled against the spin, but a few managed to retake their seats and began working their controls.

We might actually survive this battle. The thought didn’t cheer Tyler, but where there was life, there was a chance for success. The question remained—did their attack destroy Kulg’s ship? He knew it might be a while before they knew, assuming they ever did.

* * * *

Although they weren’t able to stop the ship’s spin, it finally came to a stop as one of Krildon’s ships latched onto the helpless hull. They lost eighty percent of the crew, and those that survived were mostly on the bridge or surrounding compartments. The ship was badly torn apart, and it was deemed a miracle any survived.

As they boarded the enemy rescue ship as prisoners of war, the news that their attack on the command ship was successful brought little joy. Although Kulg and most of his command staff had been destroyed in the reckless battle, too many of the newer ships survived to rule the solar system with impunity. Poolto had lost, and now their greatest hero was a prisoner of the enemy he’d fought gallantly against for most of his life. The irony was he’d spent much of his childhood living on that enemy world.

From inside his prison, the planet’s hospitality was noticeably missing. Although all the captured military people were treated reasonably well, their eventual release was in doubt. According to their captors, the Poolto government declined to surrender, negotiate peace, or negotiate the exchange of prisoners. For now, they were the guests of the Krildon people, until something changed within the Poolto Imperial Palace.

Tyler spent much of the several months on Krildon contemplating his decision to decline a role in the conspiracy with his father. He’d known it was a gamble to move forward with the offensive, but it had seemed the logical choice at the time. He thought about Toosia and whether she still lived. Were the conspirators cold blooded enough to kill a pregnant woman for the actions of her husband? Tyler couldn’t imagine his father playing a role in that murder, but then again, a man who spends most of his life among the enemy could drastically change.

In retrospect, Tyler began to believe they really had wanted peace. The tale they spun about the Imperial Palace and its stance about the prisoners didn’t paint a picture of an Emperor who cared about his subjects. Right now, Tyler imagined how they were reacting to the news that most, if not all, of their offensive capabilities were destroyed. But what of Vice Admiral Teesen and the defensive forces protecting the assets in the asteroid belt? Did they hold off the attackers? Were any assets still in Poolto possession? Hard to say since the captors were unwilling to divulge how much of their new fleet escaped destruction.

One thing was certain, two of the Poolto battle groups that had destroyed Kulg’s ship never engaged any of the Krildon fleet. Therefore, those missing elements must have survived. Because of that, Krildon now held the upper hand. If that were true, then they also held most of the natural resources required to rebuild a fleet. Poolto might never be a force to reckon with, so why didn’t the Emperor concede defeat and negotiate peace?

The conspirators told him the Emperor was insane, and now he was beginning to think they were right. Still, it was difficult as a captive to believe everything your captors told you. Although Tyler couldn’t see what advantage it gave them, it was possible they merely sought revenge on their greatest nemesis. Killing their Commandant may have been a mistake in the end. He was a beloved hero like the Admiral, and his death would not go over easily with the citizens of Krildon.

The sound of someone at the door roused Tyler from rehashing past decisions.

“Sorry to bother you, Admiral, but your presence has been requested.” The guard swung the door open wide and Tyler noticed two other guards waiting patiently in the corridor.

Fortunately, they never used shackles or cuffs. Apparently, rank did have some privilege even in the confines of a prison.

“Who is requesting this meeting?” Tyler asked curious.

“Sorry, sir, they didn’t tell us anything other than to escort you to a specific room.”

The guard’s high pitched voice contradicted his large size and ferocious appearance. It didn’t help Tyler’s anxiety. Were they finally going to try and wrestle state secrets from him? What could he share that they didn’t already know or that didn’t matter after the fleet’s defeat? Tyler stopped his mind from racing and stepped into the corridor to follow his escorts.

Patience, Tyler, you’re getting jumpy in captivity.

His diminutive size compared to the Krildon guards made it look absurd as three of them escorted him. Were they protecting themselves from him or protecting him from something else? Tyler wasn’t sure, but the scene as they marched down multiple corridors was ridiculous.

Fortunately, the only people who saw them were the guards they occasionally passed, and the ever present cameras lining each corridor. Tyler wasn’t certain where any of his crew had been taken, or whether they were even in the same facility. For all he knew, most could be on the other side of the planet.

After walking through several security gates and checkpoints, they finally arrived in front of a plain double door giving no indication what or who might be using it. They ushered him inside and sat him at a table next to another prisoner.

It was Marshall Sliss, and though his prison uniform took away much of his commanding presence, his steely face denied defeat.

“Marshall.” Tyler acknowledge coolly.

“Admiral.” The Marshall nodded deferentially. “Any idea why we are here?”

“No,” Tyler admitted, “I’m just as clueless. How have they been treating you?”

The Marshall looked briefly around the room as if to sniff out eavesdropping. Tyler knew the room would be monitored and recorded—it was a natural fact of dealing with prisoners.

“I have been treated well.” He finally admitted.

“Good. Have they told you anything about the battle and Poolto’s reaction to the outcome?”

The Marshall pursed his lips in anger. “Yes.”

“You don’t believe them?” Tyler was certain the Marshall would think everything he was told was propaganda meant to disorient and confuse the prisoners. Normally, Tyler would agree, but considering the likely outcome of the battle and the admission of casualties, he was more inclined to believe what they were saying.

“I don’t know, sir … I mean, I know the Emperor didn’t hold great love for you, but to simply leave his people captive?” He looked around furtively. “I have wondered if we did more damage to their fleet than they have admitted. They may not hold the upper hand as they have led us to believe.”

Although it seemed unlikely their gamble succeeded so well, it was a remote possibility.

“Maybe.” Tyler agreed cautiously.

The door opened and both stopped talking while several men moved into the room to set up a large monitor with controls at the other end of the table. They were fast and efficient, leaving as quickly as they had arrived.

Tyler was about to ask the Marshall about other prisoners when the door opened once more. A couple guards came into the room and stood behind Tyler and the Marshall while several men took seats across from them. One man remained at the door waiting for someone else, which Tyler assumed would be the person in charge.

The man finally turned toward everyone at the table. “Please rise for the President of the Republic of Krildon.”

Tyler and Marshall Sliss exchanged looks as they both stood. The President came into the room and took his seat near the end of the table and the monitor.

“Please sit.” He commanded without looking at anyone in particular. He picked up the remote for the monitor and began to fiddle with the buttons until a picture appeared. “As you can see, we intercepted this broadcast from your Imperial Palace.” He turned towards Tyler and the Marshall with a serious look of concern. “I’ll just let you watch it before we discuss the implications.”

He turned up the volume and Tyler leaned forward to listen to the Emperor as he addressed the planet.

“… this treachery. Our cause, though just, has cost our great world much over the years. We have never backed down and we will never back down to the cowards, regardless of the conspiracy which has severely incapacitated our military forces.”

Tyler caught the gist of what he was accusing. Treachery? Conspiracy? What did the Emperor know and how was he spinning it.

“I do not know why, and perhaps we shall never know why, our greatest military hero chose to turn against his world and join the enemy. His father, a known traitor, may have played a role in this conspiracy, we are still not sure. Nonetheless, we know his father lives and was involved.”

They knew about the Admiral’s father and his role in the conspiracy? What else? Did they know about Nayllen Hooss and his role?

“… down to the President of Krildon himself. On our world, we have traced the conspiracy throughout much of the Supreme Military Command Staff and even within the Supreme Council itself. I assure you, we will root out all the conspirators and bring our world back from this devastating loss. The traitors will be dealt with harshly, though many have already chosen a coward’s way out by taking their own lives.”

Taking their lives? Who else was involved in this conspiracy? The Supreme Council? Tyler knew of several councilmen who had been leaning more towards peace than a continuation of the war. But when push came to shove, they always fell in line with the Imperial Palace.

“… of course, I speak of the death of several councilmen and their families in the group suicide outside the city several days ago. They were conspirators in this coup, and their deaths mark a moment in history when our world and our government survived to preserve our way of life. We will not let Krildon dictate our values and cultural norms no matter the cost.”

Tyler was chilled by the group suicide report. It seemed all too convenient and more like something the Emperor’s main henchman, Regent Sneerd, might do to clean up loose threads that could unravel their lies. Who had been the councilmen? He thought about Toosia and her family—could it have been them? Was this the revenge the Emperor and the conspirators wanted?

The President turned off the monitor and turned towards Tyler.

“Well, gentlemen,” he said in his high pitched voice, “I do not know what to make of this. Apparently, our conversations with you, Admiral, were intercepted and decoded by the Imperial Palace.”

The Marshall looked confused. He turned towards Tyler. “What does he mean his conversations with you?”

The President looked surprised. “You mean you didn’t tell your right hand man about our agreement? Well, you do keep things close to the breast, Admiral.”

The look on the Marshall’s face was one Tyler wished he’d never seen. He respected the Marshall too much to put him through this.

“I’m sorry, Marshall … they contacted me and tried to convince me to join their conspiracy.” Tyler looked back at the President coldly. “I agreed to join them, but I didn’t actually join them.”

“You mean what the Emperor said was true? There was a conspiracy … and you were in on it?” The Marshall’s world was crumbling beneath him.

“Yes, but no … I mean I didn’t join them … really.” Tyler knew it sounded lame.

The President jumped in to add to the Marshall’s misery.

“You see, Marshall, there was a conspiracy, that much is true. However, although your Admiral agreed to join us, he betrayed us in the end when he attacked our home world.”

Tyler countered quickly. “You mean you betrayed me when you attacked the small unit I sent to your rendezvous point. That was the plan after all, get the command codes first, then take me out before dismantling our fleet.”

The Marshall looked like he was going to pass out. “Command codes? Rendezvous point?”

“Yes, Marshall,” the President responded dryly, “we were to meet your Admiral before we contacted your Emperor and demanded he step down from power. Your Admiral gave us the command codes so that we had an insurance policy against betrayal.”

The Marshall turned towards Tyler incredulous. “You gave them the command codes to disable the fleet?”

“Yes … I mean no. Wait.” Tyler watched everything being twisted. He wanted to make it clear to the Marshall that he hadn’t betrayed him or the fleet. “I gave them the command codes, yes, but I changed them throughout most of the fleet before they could use them. Only a few ships could be disabled … the ones that went to the rendezvous.”

“Yes,” the President conceded, “but we saw through your ruse, and we destroyed those ships after we disabled them.”

The Marshall was white. “You let those men and women die without any means to defend themselves?”

“You don’t understand,” Tyler pleaded, “it was the only thing I could do to ensure our offensive might succeed. I needed them to believe we were going along with the conspiracy so that we would have the element of surprise.”

The Marshall looked at Tyler like he wanted to spit. “I can’t believe you, Admiral, you sacrificed those people without consulting anyone.” The Marshall turned away.

“Please, Marshall, what could I have done? I sacrificed our entire fleet for that last stand—what were a couple ships if it bought us time and surprise?”

The Marshall turned back angry. “At least the fleet had a fighting chance—they could go out in a blaze of glory defending what they believed. Those other ships had no chance whatsoever.”

Both fell silent as it was clear Tyler would not convince the Marshall to side with his decisions. The President quickly filled the awkward silence.

“Be that as it may, Marshall, the rest of the conspiracy your Emperor talks about is false.” The President snapped his finger and an attendant handed him a small tablet. “I have a list of names the Emperor accused of being involved. Only two on this extensive list were involved in any way, and even they were minor players who didn’t really know what was going on.”

The President patiently read the names as Tyler and the Marshall listened gloomily. He named a third of the Supreme Military Command Staff, over ten councilmen, and various civilian names Tyler didn’t recognize. One thing he did recognize was that many of the names on the list had either sided with the Admiral, or had recently been known to disagree publicly with the Imperial Palace.

He’s cleaning house under the guise of a conspiracy!

Tyler was frustrated Nayllen Hooss’s name was not on the list, but Toosia’s family was. It was certain now that anyone even remotely associated with the Admiral was a suspect if not directly involved. Tyler hung his head low as he realized what was happening. The Emperor was angry, and now there would be no one left to oppose him. He would destroy their world while pursuing his own interests.

The President finished and set the tablet down.

“As you can see, gentlemen, that is quite a list of people. I can assure you, as one of the chief conspirators, none of those people had any knowledge of the true conspiracy, and most are innocent people falsely accused.” He stood up and moved to a seat near Tyler’s. “I believe, as do my advisors on Poolto, the Imperial Palace is using all this as an excuse to remove all those who oppose him … or oppose the war.”

Tyler agreed with the President’s assessment.

“I noticed Nayllen’s name wasn’t on that list.” He said it matter-of-fact.

“Mr. Hooss?” The President asked surprised. “Of course not, he is one of the Emperor’s most trusted confidantes. Like I said, my advisors on Poolto have all been spared. Of course, the palace does not really know who was involved, only what they could pick out from the communications we had with you, Admiral. Your father, myself, of course, and you. The rest, they have made up to suit their needs.” The President leaned back in his chair casually. “I can see from your response that you agree with our assessment of the situation. The question is, what should I do about it?”

The Marshall was blown away with all the information he was receiving. It was bad enough when your commanding officer was consorting with the enemy behind your back, and another when your Emperor used a conspiracy to clean out his internal enemies.

Tyler looked at the President intently. “How long ago was this speech?”

The President smiled. “A couple of weeks. We have since heard that all those accused will undergo a mock trial before being put to death. They have sent word to us, although unofficially, that they consider all prisoners a part of the conspiracy, and that we should put you to death as they would do the same if you were back home.”

Tyler absorbed the statement without emotion. Of course, he and his crew held the keys to the truth, so naturally the palace would want them dead. The Marshall’s face was drained, and he looked as if he were going to die from accusation of treachery. Tyler imagined his military pride bristling with the political realities facing him. No one was safe from the Emperor, not even those a million miles away.

“And what do you intend on doing with us, Mr. President?” Tyler asked defeated.

“Well, I’m not sure,” he admitted openly, “we really do desire peace, Admiral, but now that seems lost. It is neither our policy nor our desire to kill you. However, my people are most upset over your attack, and they mourn deeply for the loss of Commandant Kulg … and your father.” He paused while Tyler took those last bits in.

“My father is dead?” Tyler was actually glad to see the traitor gone.

“Yes,” the President confirmed, “he was on the ship with Commandant Kulg—no one survived.” The President stopped, looking unsure what he should reveal. He apparently made up his mind and continued. “I must tell you, Admiral, the apparent suicide of those councilmen … well … well, it was at your in-laws house outside Yooso. I am afraid they, and your wife, were found among the dead.”

Tyler felt shame and guilt at the loss of their lives. His unborn child had been taken away before he’d ever been born. He wanted to be angry with Nayllen and the President who were involved in bringing his family into their scheme. But he couldn’t. The Emperor had taken care of them out of revenge for his own actions. He held back his tears.

“I am sorry, Admiral.” The President sounded genuine. “I never imagined your family would have to pay for our attempts at peace.”

Tyler grinned coldly at the President. “Sure you didn’t—that’s why Nayllen kidnapped my wife.”

The President didn’t back down. “That was not my idea—I never would have supported such a plan.”

Tyler turned away. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter now.”

The Marshall shot Tyler a look of pity, but Tyler didn’t want it. The President was ready to move past the moment and snapped his fingers, an aide immediately handing him a sheet of paper.

“I have before me, a pardon for the war crimes your people are currently accused of.”

The Marshall couldn’t take anymore. “What war crimes?” he demanded.

“The war crimes we have created to mask the true cause of the devastation our own fleet has suffered. We may be a democracy, Marshall, but we don’t share everything with our people.” The President pulled himself up haughtily, his large canines looking menacing as he stared down at the Marshall. “Now, as I was saying, this is a pardon that I will gladly sign, being as benevolent as I am, if you will do one thing for me, Admiral.”

Tyler returned his gaze confused. What could he do? He had no power, no fleet, no ability to help Krildon.

“And what is that, Mr. President?” He asked tired of the games.

“I want you to help us attack Poolto and overthrow the Emperor before more lives are lost.”

Tyler couldn’t believe what he was asking. “You want me to consult with your fleet and tell them how to attack our home world?”

“No, Admiral,” the President countered, “I want you to take command of my fleet and lead them in an attack on your home world.”

The Marshall stood aghast. “You must be joking if you think after everything he would further betray his world! Tell them, Admiral—tell them you won’t do it.”

“And if I don’t do it?” Tyler asked quietly.

“Well, then,” the President said dryly, “I’ll have to kill the war criminals.”

Tyler knew that would be the answer, but he wanted the President to say it so he could judge whether he meant it. From the sound in his voice, he meant it.

“Look,” the President pleaded with Tyler, “I don’t want to kill anyone … well, perhaps your Emperor, but not your men and women. They fought valiantly while following their leaders. They are not blamed for this. However, I need your help, and if I don’t get it, I’ll have no choice but to take the wrong action to appease my people and find justice in this unjust war.”

“Killing innocent men and women is just?” The Marshall asked.

The President laughed coldly. “Please, Marshall, what do you think all those casualties of war were? When is killing ever just? Don’t make me the bad guy here, I wanted peace and offered it to your Admiral, and to your Emperor, but was turned away. They want the killing to continue, not me.” He turned back to Tyler. “Admiral, I will attack your home world, of that you can be assured. How much damage and loss of life it costs will be up to you. Help me, and you may spare those who foolishly follow their mad leader. Don’t help me, and I may have no choice but to destroy the entire planet.”

Tyler heard resolve in the President’s voice. What choice did he have? He’d lost everything the Admiral had ever loved, would the chance at peace now redeem him?

“Please, Mr. President, can I sleep on it?” He asked wearily. He wanted to leave this world, flee into the Universe and escape the devastation that his actions had wrought.

The Marshall snorted in disgust and turned away from Tyler. Tyler didn’t care, the Marshall was no longer important.

The President looked relieved. “Yes, Admiral, I’ll contact you in the morning.”

The room cleared and Tyler was led back to his cell. His thoughts were dark, and he wondered what he was capable of. He noticed the guards carried small firearms, but they could easily take a life if used correctly. He thought about taking one and shooting himself. It would release him from the Admiral’s body, and take away the value it still held. Would the President still kill his men and women? Tyler didn’t think he would, but why chance it. Was that his only alternative, to take the coward’s way out, as the Emperor had so rightly put it?

Tyler didn’t think he had it in him, so he let them lock him up while he lay on his bunk contemplating the choices before him.

* * * *

Tyler was startled awake by a voice close to his ear. He turned towards the sound into the face of a caricature of the old Tyler dressed as a hobo clown. It was Adanni, which meant he was still sleeping.

“What do you want? Can’t a man get some peace and quiet while he sleeps?” He asked irritably.

The clown smiled maliciously. “Of course you can, but you’re not really asleep.”

“What do mean? I’m not asleep? How else can I see you? You’re just a part of my subconscious are you not?” Tyler lay down to ignore the alien presence.

“True, I am part of your subconscious, but in this reality,” he spread his arms wide to take in the tiny cell, “you are living in your subconscious. Therefore, it is quite reasonable that you can see me.” He finished smugly, his sad clown face smiling at Tyler.

“Yeah? Then it is just as reasonable for me to ask you to go away!” Tyler demanded.

“But, Earthling, aren’t you concerned about what I am saying? Think beyond your current circumstances and see the bigger picture.”

Tyler rolled to face the wall. “Yes, I got it, I am a prisoner of a vengeful god hell-bent on making my existence miserable. Well, excuse me if I don’t get too excited, my life up till now wasn’t exactly filled with milk and honey.”

“What life?” The clown asked goading.

“All those countless worlds I rampaged through after inadvertently destroying Poolto!” Though the words came out effortlessly, and Tyler couldn’t believe what he was saying.

In a sudden rush nearly knocking him from the cot, everything returned: the previous lives, his life on Poolto, the betrayal of Nayllen and his father, and the attack that finally destroyed most of the planet. But if that were true, then what was happening now? Oh, god! He rolled to face Adanni.

The clown’s grin was replaced with a dire expression. “Do you now see what I mean? This,” and he spread his arms once more, “is not reality. It is a false world created by a Creator who wants nothing more than for you to suffer. Yes, it is true you have suffered up till now, but that was because of your choices, your desires, and your actions. Now, all your choices have been taken away!”

The import of Adanni’s words stung. If this was a false world, where was reality?

“You are trapped inside a body on a world Gamel created.” Adanni said in response to Tyler’s thoughts.

“Trapped?” His mind ran through various scenarios.

“Yes, your Onyalum spirit is trapped within the flesh of a body Gamel created. Until that body is destroyed, you will not be released. You know how it works.”

“But—how do I …” Tyler stopped as he realized the seriousness of his predicament.

“You can’t, at least not at the moment. However, just realizing where you are is a major step. Escaping from captivity, that is another matter. Still …” Adanni let it hang as he, too, stared dreamily into the distance.

Tyler thought the visage of a clown deep in thought was too absurd. “Can’t you change your appearance, just for me?” He sat up and shook his head to clear the confusion. “What was the ‘still’ for?”

The clown looked directly at Tyler as if deciding whether to reveal what he knew. Unfortunately, his appearance did not change from the sad clown hiding the human Tyler. At this point, the old Tyler looked alien after so many worlds and so many peoples.

Finally, the clown made a decision. “There was an incident, but I not sure how it happened, so it may not be pertinent.”

“Let me decide!” Tyler demanded, wanting to hear more.

“Well, you remember that angry god when you met the Universe?” Tyler nodded as the memory came back. “That god was angry because I inadvertently destroyed one of his galaxies.” Adanni stopped to let Tyler absorb the words.

“Wow.” Was all Tyler said. He tried to imagine the destruction of a whole galaxy, but the scope of that action was beyond his mortal reach. He’d been through enough of them to realize some held great civilizations and races of people. Were all those beings destroyed?

Adanni looked up from the floor his sad clown face matching the mood. “I am afraid they, too, were destroyed. I don’t really know how many, but it must have been hundreds of thousands.”

“No wonder the Creator is mad, I only destroyed a planet, but you … you destroyed an entire galaxy.”

“Yes, that Creator was very upset—I suppose for good reason. I didn’t want to do it … heck, I don’t even know how I did it.” He stood, pacing the floor. “Look, I am an Onyalum, yes, but I don’t always get my kicks from death and destruction. It occurs, sure, but that is a natural part of existence. We don’t cause all of it, we just … I don’t know … seek it out.”

Tyler reeled from the alien’s words. They were only excuses, and Tyler didn’t really care for excuses. “And this helps us how?” He demanded, wanting to find some value from the knowledge Adanni was sharing.

“I don’t know … but maybe it can help us escape.” Adanni sounded uncertain, and Tyler knew he was grasping at straws.

“Let me get this straight.” He raised his fingers to illustrate. “One, we are trapped by a Creator you pissed off when you destroyed his galaxy, two …”

Adanni turned an angry visage towards Tyler. “Wait a minute, Earthling, this is not the Creator I made angry, this is the Creator you made angry!”

“What do you mean, I made angry?”

“Yes, on Gamel?” Adanni tried to get Tyler’s memory running. “Don’t you remember being that pitiful priest Samil?”

Tyler stopped as the name held a familiar ring. Why did he know that name? Gamel also sounded familiar, but he figured Adanni must have mentioned it before.

“Yes!” Adanni blurted in step with Tyler’s thoughts. “Gamel is the name of the world and the Creator. You were a priest … well, I would use the word loosely considering what you did as Samil.”

Tyler couldn’t remember but didn’t think it mattered.

“Fine, whatever, I don’t care. Two, we are trapped inside his, I mean Gamel’s world inside a body he created. Three, you hope to use this incredible destructive power to free us. Four, you don’t know how to use the power or control it. Does that sum it up?”

The clown sat back down. “Yes, that sums it up.”

“Well, great!” Tyler’s anger flared. “I’ll just get working on that pronto. After all, it seems reasonable I should destroy a galaxy so I can escape with an insane, alien clown. What a great idea!”

He stood up, pacing the floor as Adanni had done. He wanted to escape, but it didn’t seem plausible, or even possible. Were they simply going to relive all their mistakes for eternity? What had he done to anger this god, could he possibly reason with him or negotiate their release?

“Don’t count on it, Earthling,” Adanni’s voice grated with failure, “he has many Onyalum trapped, same as you. Some have been there for thousands of years. Don’t you think they’ve tried to reason with him?”

Tyler spun to face Adanni. “Then, why did you wake me from this nightmare? I was better off not knowing it was an artificial hell created on my behalf.”

“Because, the fact that I woke you is enough for hope!” Adanni stood towering over the diminutive Admiral. “Do you not see what power this gives you? If you can convince the Creator you see through his veil of lies, then what pleasure can he get from putting on this show?” He sat down grim. “You must fight against his machinations and demonstrate you are different and will not be a meek prisoner for his enjoyment. It is the only chance we have.”

Tyler took it all in. There was a ring of truth, although he wasn’t convinced it was enough to force the god to release him. There were other forms of torture that might be far worse than psychological.

“How is it I see through his veil?” Tyler asked, curious why he was different from the other Onyalum. “If what you say is true, then the other Onyalum must not be able to see through his charades.”

“True, else we are fooling ourselves and this is all part of the torture. I do know you are different because you are not Onyalum. Sure, you have the form, but you are an entity formed from matter … I am not, and neither are those others. Maybe that is why you can peer through his veils of deception.”

Perhaps Adanni was right. He was different, he wasn’t really Onyalum. The Universe had said, ‘you are something new and wonderful’, perhaps that was an edge in combating this god. He thought about Thosolan and wondered if he might be able to help.

Once again, Adanni read his thoughts. “Don’t count on it, Earthling, even if you could contact him, it is unlikely he would interfere with another Creator’s affairs. They just don’t do that. At least not the ones I have known.”

Tyler ignored the comments and concentrated on Thosolan’s name, willing him to come to his aid. After several concerted minutes of trying, he gave up.

“Told you.” Adanni said defeated.

“Well, at least I’m trying something! What are you doing?”

“I’ve done my part,” Adanni countered, “I woke you up from this dream world!”

Tyler sat sulking for a moment before a thought popped into his head. “Does he know about you? The Creator I mean. Does he know about your being here?”

The clown looked introspective. “I don’t think so, or else he would likely interfere. How could he know? He thinks you are me!”

“I thought you said he was angry at me?” Tyler asked suspiciously.

“He is, but he thinks you are Onyalum. You pleaded with him to let you go, but he was convinced all the things he read in your memories were your actions, your mistakes. Unfortunately, most were mine.”

Tyler looked incredulous. “There’s something you are not telling me, Adanni. Cough it up, what is it?”

“Well …” The alien clown paused as he stood up moving towards the door. He slowly turned to face Tyler. “I’ve been to Gamel … I mean before we merged.” Tyler listened as a chill spread through his body. “The Creator was living on the world at that time … and well … I may have accidentally killed one of his holy men when he came to our village preaching the gospel.” He stopped as though he were done, but continued after Tyler’s hard stare demanded full disclosure. “It is possible … only possible … he may know this from reading your thoughts.” He finished before quickly sitting down.

Tyler fumed. “I thought you said it was my fault he was angry with me, but you killed one of his holy men?”

Adanni turned the sad clown face away. “You did make him angry—you simply don’t remember.”

Tyler wanted to punch the smug look from the goofy clown face, but he held back. Either way, their situation had not changed, they were trapped with little hope for escape. He could fight against the god’s hellish worlds, but would that really change his mind? Tyler doubted it.

He looked at Adanni to say as much when the clown disappeared, replaced with the frightening, toothy grin of Gamel. The wall of the cell faded, and Tyler found himself strapped to something hard as the god’s horrible face stared darkly into his eyes.

“I see you have seen through my mirage, Destroyer of Worlds, but it won’t happen again, I assure you.” Gamel’s words were menacing.

Everything flooded back into memory, Samil, the perneem, and Malane. He remembered why the god punished him, and he realized Adanni had been right—it was his fault.

“And if I break through again, what then?” Tyler spat back in anger.

“You won’t, but even if you do. Well, then, I could always find more … ah, physical means of torturing you. Would you prefer that?”

Tyler knew the threat was real, so he kept his mouth shut.

“I see, well, this will likely be the last time you will ever see me, Demon, so enjoy it while it lasts. I have better things to do than associate with your filth. That is why I created this place, to keep you all entertained—for eternity!”

His evil laugh was filled with a deep loathing for the helpless Onyalum. Tyler was confident he could never change the god’s mind. They were trapped, and their only escape would be to find someway to destroy the body holding them captive. He had little hope that would happen.

“Tell me, Gamel, what pleasure does a Creator get from torturing Onyalum?” He was stalling for time, hoping he could use this last chance to kill the body that trapped him. But suppose he did kill it, what would stop the god from creating another before he could escape? It didn’t matter, he had to try.

“What pleasure?” Gamel laughed. “Oh, the pleasure of knowing I have removed a plague from the Universe—a plague that shouldn’t even exist.” He walked around the table and stared down at Tyler, his white fangs bared in a hideous smile.

Tyler tried not to wince. “Then, why did the Universe create us to begin with? Why do they let us continue to live?”

“I do not know, Demon, and I do not care. It was obviously a mistake, but one I am happy to remedy. Do not concern yourself with such matters. I promise you, you will have enough to worry about in just a moment.”

While Gamel was talking, Tyler turned his Onyalum spirit inward, trying to undo the health in the body. He focused on the heart, trying to make something snap, or break. He thought he’d succeeded for a brief moment when he felt a searing pain across his chest, but as quickly as it came it passed as the body healed itself.

Gamel noticed his attempts. “Oh, please, Demon, do not even try to harm that body, they are one of my greatest creations. They are the healthiest beings I have ever made, and they cannot be damaged by your meek efforts.” Gamel moved out of view, and Tyler strained to follow his progress. “Trust me, Demon, you are my guest forever. Enjoy!”

With that final word, the room and everything around it faded. Tyler moved his hands through the darkness, but couldn’t make out where he was or what he was doing. His mind was blank, and he struggled to remember who he was.

The name Tyler came to mind, but it took a moment for him to recall the previous life and his new existence as an Onyalum. He remembered merging with the detestable alien, Adanni, and being thrown into the Universe to fend for himself.

Slowly, other memories came unbidden. He remembered Poolto and the devastating results his actions had caused. He felt a pang of guilt, and remembered his awful rampage through the Universe. The memories were too vivid, but they still didn’t provide a clue as to where he was.

The body felt like a solid entity—at least he wasn’t a ghostly spirit. If he had a body, then perhaps he had some chance at life. As he moved the legs, he realized he was on the ground. The floor was littered with sharp pieces of broken material that cut and bruised, but he tried getting up. Delicately rising to a standing position, his eyes adjusted to the feeble light emanating from a distant source.

The legs were solid, so he tried a few steps. Good, he could walk. He moved his hands across the face to see what sort of creature he possessed. Perhaps knowing would be sufficient to jog his memory.

The skin was rough and dirty, but not like scales, more like a tough hide pitted with bumps and creases. The nose was small, broad, and down-turned. He had two eyes, and apparently something that passed for hair. It felt more like straw and covered the head sparsely. Tiny round ears sat amid the hair swiveling independently from each other. It was an odd sensation, but allowed him to focus on sounds from different directions. He decided it was probably a useful feature.

He listened for sounds through the darkness, but everything was silent. The floor was uneven and difficult to navigate as he moved toward the light coming from a small crevice to his right. He tripped over debris several times before reaching the opening and climbing to its source. He dug away rubble pulling his thick body into the dim light.

He fell to the ground hard as sharp pains ripped through his sides from some unknown injury. He ignored the pain as he righted himself. The feeble light came from a single green moon glowing against the bright backdrop of a star field. It was unfamiliar.

Through the moonlight, he could make out a city street surrounded by broken husks of buildings. Apparently the town was destroyed in some epic battle or natural disaster, and it reminded Tyler of Yooso, the capital city destroyed on Poolto. But still nothing was familiar. Who was he and where had he landed? Wherever it was, it looked dead.

A loud boom echoed through the ghost town as Tyler spotted a glowing disk arcing over the horizon toward him. He watched calmly, mesmerized by its orange-red colors. What was it? He wasn’t certain, but he felt confident it wasn’t a good thing. Then again, it might bring recognition.

As the orb drew near, its light uncovered the dark reality around him. The town had been completely destroyed, and only rubble indicated anything had ever been there. Did the incoming light have something to do with that destruction? If so, it was likely he would be killed and released into the Universe. At this point, it seemed the best alternative. Better to find another world—something less dead.

He moved into the street, hands raised like a receiver for the opening kickoff. He beckoned for the light to take him away from this desolate planet and free him into the Universe to seek someplace new.

As the light grew blinding, strong arms grabbed from behind pulling him over the edge of a wall into a ditch littered with broken concrete, metal and glass. Shards cut deep into his flesh as the weight of the person forced him into the ground.

Before he could protest, the ground shook violently as the air roared to life with the light and sounds of the orb making landfall. The noise deafened Tyler as aftershocks rolled through the loosely packed dirt, scattering their bodies like marbles on a pool table.

Free from the weight, Tyler regained his feet amid a burning shower of debris from above. He brushed the stinging particles from his body, searching for whoever had knocked him down. A voice in the distance called through the dust filled air as he spun towards its source.

“Damn you, Morone, what the hell are you doing, are you trying to get killed?”

The voice was distinctly female, and Tyler thought she sounded pissed. As the air cleared, he spotted a small figure standing in the shadows surrounded by a scrappy group of heavily armed people. Their faces were hard and leathery as Tyler imagined from his earlier probing, and he instantly thought of them as pig-like. Their stocky bodies bulged through tight fitting rags with muscles showing obvious power. Absently, Tyler reached for his own arms feeling the strength lurking beneath the tattered clothes.

A voice startled Tyler from behind. “Sorry, Morone, I hope I didn’t hurt you?”

Tyler turned to a very large man wearing far more weaponry than anyone had a right to carry. From the man’s comments, Tyler assumed he now possessed this Morone, but he didn’t appreciate it sounding like ‘moron’. He tried his voice hoping he could speak the language.

“It’s okay …” He struggled for a name, but nothing popped into mind. “Just some scratches I think.”

The large man grinned. “What were you doing out there?”

Tyler shrugged in response as another boom signaled the pending arrival of more destruction.

The female in the shadows barked orders. “Let’s have a reunion later, Herran! For now, let’s try to avoid getting blown up. Does that work for you?”

Herran laughed at the jibe. “No problem, Terate, lead onward!”

Herran grabbed Tyler’s arm and pulled him through the rubble toward the waiting group until Tyler shrugged him off as they cleared the debris. He had no idea what was going on, but at least there was life on this planet. However, it appeared a tough life engaged in warfare. It was a typical theme for Tyler. Considering the motley crew before him, their situation was desperate at best.

Terate, the woman in charge, surveyed Tyler dubiously before frowning. “Stay close, Morone, we wouldn’t want our fearless leader killed because of ‘our’ carelessness.” Sarcasm dripped from her words as she said fearless leader.

Tyler wondered why the sarcastic comments, but decided to keep a low profile until he could figure out what was happening.

“Don’t worry, Terate, I’ve been through worse.” Tyler had experienced far worse during his campaign against the Universe. A few shots of artillery didn’t concern him. Although a part of him still felt the urge to flee, something about Terate made him curious. At the very least, Morone might be someone important. That was better than many alternatives.

Terate snorted derisively before signaling everyone to move away from the incoming ordinance. Tyler looked back at the glowing orb before turning to follow the raggedy group into the dark, broken landscape.

Besieged

After walking for an eternity, Tyler and the small squad finally stopped at the entrance of a large cave leading into an underground bunker. Despite the raggedy dress of the group, the bunker’s facilities and people were surprisingly modern.

In what looked like a command center, men and women wore clean, pressed uniforms and went about their business in an orderly military fashion. His familiarity with the military made him assume the world might have something to offer after all.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t remember how he’d got there or who he was, and though he desperately tried to access the memories of the person he’d become, something blocked him from those clarifying thoughts. He finally gave up, deciding to wait and see what happened. Perhaps a person or event would jog the memories free. At least he wasn’t a prisoner, though you wouldn’t know it from his clothing.

Terate yelled across the room to an older man consulting a young soldier. “Hey, Colonel, can’t you keep tabs on your captains? I found this one wandering the streets trying to catch an incoming mitzer. Almost succeeded if it hadn’t been for Herran.” She and Herran laughed from the derogatory comments at Tyler’s expense.

The Colonel didn’t appear amused as he walked over to the tattered group wearing a somber face. “That will be enough, Sergeant, you and your squad can clean up and report to ops in thirty. Clear?”

Terate gave a mocking salute. “Yes, sir!”

They all laughed as they moved deeper into the bunker leaving Tyler alone with the Colonel.

“All right, Captain, want to explain where you’ve been—and why?”

Tyler stared into the weathered face making him feel weak and insignificant. “I wish I could, Colonel, but … but I’m not sure I know.”

The Colonel’s gaze didn’t soften, but he turned away signaling Tyler to follow. They stopped at a table with maps laying out various markings Tyler recognized as troop movements.

“We sent your unit out four days ago, and we haven’t heard anything from you until just now. Where is your unit, Captain?” The Colonel looked dubious at Tyler’s apparent memory lapse. When Tyler could only shrug, the Colonel finally softened. “I see. You look like hell, Morone, go get cleaned up before we debrief you.”

Tyler started to move in the direction of Terate and her crew, but stopped confused. “Sir, I’m sorry to have to ask this … but … I don’t know where to go?” Tyler stood waiting, incomprehension clear on his face.

The Colonel watched with renewed interest. “What the hell happened to you, Morone?” He signaled to a young soldier. “Private, please escort Captain Morone to his quarters, wait for him to clean up, then escort him to debriefing room three.”

The soldier turned a questioning look at Tyler before shrugging and leading him into the bunker. Tyler felt as stupid as he probably looked, but followed the young man dutifully.

* * * *

In the Captain’s quarters, closet was a more accurate description, he found photographs of the Captain and what must have been the man’s family. As near as Tyler could tell, the Captain was married with two boys that looked younger than teens in the photo. Although Tyler was happy to have the pictures provide some clue as to who Captain Morone was, they didn't jog the man’s memories into focus.

Why couldn’t he access them? Did the Captain experience some brain damage Tyler’s spirit couldn’t fix? For some odd reason, the notion didn’t sound right. There was something more serious involved, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Even if the Captain had brain damage, Tyler’s Onyalum memories should be intact, but he could only remember that last moment when he was ripped from the dying body of River Red. After that, everything was blank. He had no idea how he’d come to this world.

He showered in the small cubby provided but was caught with soap on his face when the water cut off. He assumed water rations he simply was not aware of. He wiped the stinging suds gently to avoid his eyes, and found various sundries inside the Captain’s cabinets. Unfortunately, he had no idea how to use any of them.

No toothbrush, something that may have been either deodorant or aftershave, and a gel Tyler imagined might be for his straw-like hair. Then again, it may have been skin lotion. For a brief moment, he thought about asking the young private for help, but he felt foolish enough already, so he decided against the assistance. He did his best to mask the remaining odors with what was available before dressing in what he thought was a standard military uniform.

Thankfully, all the decorations and insignia were already pinned to the uniform, so Tyler only had to put it on. It fit perfectly, despite the bulging muscles in arms and legs. He was amazed at the powerful body he possessed. Although its height was significantly shorter than River Red, there was a brutish, pig-like quality Tyler felt revulsion for as he stared into the small mirror. He knew he was being prejudice, but the earthling was still unable to stop judging by appearance.

Still, having such power at your disposal could come in handy during combat. He fondly remembered River Red taking down massive trees with shear strength alone, and because it was no small feat, it further endeared him to the people of his village. Power was an aphrodisiac, and once you tasted it, you never wanted to give it up.

He looked once more at the ugly face staring back at him before deciding he was ready to face the debriefing. He knew they would learn nothing during the interrogation, but he was also certain he wouldn’t either. There simply wasn’t anything to learn—he was a blank slate.

Tyler was met at the door by a round of laughter as the Private informed him the pant and shirt combination he wore did not meet military code. The young man finally calmed down before helping Tyler pick the correct combination. As he donned the corrected outfit, the Private snickered in the background, probably amazed by a Captain that couldn’t dress properly.

Tyler was regretting his decision to stay on the planet as the young Private escorted him through a maze of underground passageways.

Tyler thanked him for the assistance despite the rude behavior. Apparently this world wasn’t compassionate for others with problems. Nonetheless, Tyler was newly dressed and ready for the debriefing as he stepped into the small room with two men and the Colonel.

“Sit down, Captain.” The Colonel waved aimlessly at several empty chairs. “I have invited your CO and our intelligence commander to sit in—I hope you don’t mind?”

Tyler took a seat and shook his head to indicate he didn’t. He looked at each in turn, but wasn’t sure which was which. He didn’t even know their names.

“I’m sorry, Colonel, but who is who?” He asked to set the tone of their meeting. He wanted them to know right off that they were dealing with a person who really knew nothing.

All three men stared incredulous before exchanging glances with each other. The Colonel shook his head slightly before sitting back in his chair, arms folded. He was a large man, and the muscles on his chest bulged threateningly underneath his nearly ripping uniform. His face was hard and heavily creased with prominent bulges. Tyler imagined the greater the creases the greater the age. The man looked significantly older than the Captain.

The Colonel had finally sized up the situation and took command. “Why don’t you tell us what you do remember?”

The other men relaxed while Tyler laughed inwardly. It would be a quick debriefing. He quickly recounted waking in the destroyed building, seeing the disk of light, and being saved by Herran before they returned to the bunker. It took only a few moments, and the men around the table watched dispassionately.

One of them leaned forward as Tyler finished. “You mean you remember nothing about your life before you woke in that building?”

“No, sir.” Tyler admitted freely. “I don’t even remember me, except everyone keeps calling me Captain Morone—I assume that must be who I am.”

The man turned to the Colonel with a look of surprise. “Wow!”

The Colonel shook his head in agreement. “I told you it was weird. However, the question remains, what’s wrong with him?”

The three men started talking as if Tyler weren’t there, and launched several theories about what had happened, the most chilling being mind control by their enemy. Tyler hoped that wasn’t the case, though something familiar about control set off bells in his head.

“Excuse me, sirs, but what the hell are you talking about?” Tyler was tired of being ignored.

The Colonel stared back as he was interrupted from a speech about possibly new psychological weapons.

“Oh, Captain … sorry … we got a little carried away.” He smiled, but little warmth came through. “Well, Captain, we don’t believe you are a threat … at least not yet … so we are going to send you to the doctors and let them figure this out.”

The other men agreed, though Tyler still didn’t know their names or which was his CO. Regardless, he was happy to leave their presence. The young Private, now bored with his current charge, pleaded to be released after dropping Tyler at the infirmary. The Colonel eyed Tyler suspiciously, but begrudgingly agreed.

Tyler didn’t look forward to the doctor’s probing as he stepped into the cold light of the overhead neons and antiseptic white. He was met by an attractive, by their standards, young nurse dressed in a white smock covering a red uniform. Tyler assumed the red was appropriate for medical staff as the doctor entered wearing an identical outfit.

Tyler guessed the doctor’s age was near the Captain’s, but her demeanor was less than civil as she ordered him out of his uniform. The nametag on her uniform read Doctor Berdan, but Tyler would remember her for the awful bedside manners.

Tyler watched as the nurse smiled when the doctor requested he strip. He assumed she had a keen interest in seeing the young Captain naked. Nonetheless, he complied and hopped onto the cold table indicated. The nurse, now wearing a mischievous smile, helped cover his body with a white sheet, but not without a look of disappointment when he was fully covered. Tyler tried not to blush, but realized he wasn’t even sure whether the species could do such a thing.

Once the doctor began, she inspected every inch of his body with rough hands, often from the inside out. Tyler felt thoroughly violated after the physical, but was pleased to hear her say he was perfectly healthy.

Satisfied, the doctor took her notepad and left the room after instructing the nurse to help Tyler get dressed before meeting her in her office for a psychological profile. The nurse smiled as she readily accepted her assignment despite Tyler’s assurances he could dress himself. He was unable to fend her off, so he let her help even as her hands ‘accidentally’ slipped into places they shouldn’t have gone. When he was fully dressed, the nurse leaned forward into his face and breathed a sensuous offer.

“I’m off in a couple hours, meet me in the cafeteria if you want to … .you know …”

She let the last part hang, but Tyler knew what she meant. Ordinarily, he wasn’t attracted to aggressive women, but he saw an opportunity to gather more information about this world without exposing his memory lapses to the entire military. He nodded as she giggled with delight and took his hand leading him into the doctor’s office. Tyler noted her nametag read Assistant Treet and he smiled weakly at the pun before entering a room where the doctor waited with another gentleman.

Tyler took the remaining seat as the doctor patiently read through papers on her desk. The man sitting next to her smiled knowingly. Apparently he, too, was waiting for the doctor. Finally, she looked up as if only noticing Tyler’s presence.

“Ah, Captain,” she said absently while vaguely pointing to the man next to her, “this is Doctor Rusen.”

Tyler nodded to the man who leaned forward and took charge. “Captain, I am a clinical psychologist specializing in battle trauma. I hear you have lost all memories of your previous life. Is that correct?”

Tyler nodded.

“I see,” the man went on as curiosity burned in his eyes, “and do you remember anything about our world?”

Tyler shook his head no.

“Excellent!” The man replied, far too enthusiastic for Tyler’s liking.

Tyler shot him a cold look. “Glad I could make your day.”

“Sorry, Captain, it’s just that … well … I have never seen a case like this before.”

“Then, what good will you be?” Tyler asked more bitter than he’d intended. He wasn’t sure what he was hoping for, maybe a shot that would return all the Captain’s memories? Apparently it wouldn’t be that easy, and he suddenly wished he were back catching mitzers.

The man paused briefly before ignoring Tyler’s comment. “I can still help, Captain—it’s just that most soldiers only forget the trauma, but you … .you have forgotten everything. I believe treatment should still work, it just might take a bit longer.”

Tyler smiled. “Great.”

After their initial exchange, the man took Tyler into another room where he ran a series of boring psychological tests designed to test for damage in important brain areas. The tests were simple, and the doctor finally commented he thought everything was fine with Tyler’s brain other than the blocked memories.

Tyler didn’t feel better, but at least the body was generally healthy. That meant treatment wouldn’t entail lengthy stays in medical facilities, although the doctor wanted to talk with the Colonel about a transfer outside the bunker to a civilian facility. Tyler left the man arguing on the phone with the Colonel as he went back into the waiting room where Miss Treet held out a small electronic device.

“Here, you’ll need this to find your way around the facility. I programmed your quarters …” she fiddled with the touch pad and a map to his quarters appeared, “and my quarters …” she smiled warmly as the display changed once more, “and the cafeteria where I’ll meet you in two hours.”

He thanked her as he took the device and began playing with the touchpad. She gave him a brief lesson on how to work it, but within a few minutes, Tyler felt confident he could find his way around. He left with a promise to meet her in the cafeteria before leaving the medical facility to explore the vast underground complex. With time to kill, he figured it couldn’t hurt taking a look around just in case something jogged his memory.

According to his device, the facility was located sixty meters underground with four different levels, the lowest level being used for ordinance. From that lowest level, a twenty kilometer tunnel connected the bunker to the distant city centers where fresh supplies and weapons were fed to the front lines. It made perfect sense strategically, but he wondered how effective it would be if the enemy discovered it.

The top two floors were dedicated to operational command, so most of the soldiers lived on those levels. The device spewed out various units currently assigned to the complex, and Tyler was mildly surprised to see such a large contingent living in such close proximity. Still, based on the mitzer which nearly killed him, it seemed this was a far safer place during the conflict.

Unfortunately, the device didn’t contain information on who they were fighting or why. What was the world really like outside the complex? Was it all rubble, or had Tyler only seen battle lines? He was frustrated by the lack of memories, and he sulked as he made his way through the complex. At one point, he thought he was lost, but a helpful Private assisted him as she assured him his security clearance wasn’t adequate to move farther in the direction he’d been traveling.

He left the way he came, but wondered what was being hidden such that an intelligence captain didn’t have adequate access for it? The device labeled the area ‘troop housing’, but clearly that wasn’t its real purpose.

He eventually found actual troop housing, and it looked more like an airplane hangar than accommodations. The space was enormous as the ceiling vaulted ten meters above the concrete floor giving a false appearance of space. Considering the crowded quarters, Tyler understood why they wanted to ease the sense of claustrophobia. It was easy to imagine troops fighting one another under such conditions.

Inside the large space, rows of bunks were laid out in formation, each with a small vanity and a couple drawers for gear. At the end of each bunk, Tyler saw weapons stowed in special slings attached to the bed frame. Thousands of men and women were engaged in various activities, and Tyler was surprised to see the mixing of sexes in combat roles. Nonetheless, the women were as strong and sturdy as their male counterparts.

He continued his tour and was surprised to find men and women sleeping together in the same bunk and showering in a communal bath.

Curious, he wandered through one of the baths when a familiar voice called out to him.

“Hey, Captain Morone?” The tone dripped heavy with loathing.

Tyler turned towards a naked Sergeant Terate standing in the shower with several of her fellow soldiers. One was a woman, but the other two were men. They stared at Tyler with wolfish grins.

“What’s wrong, Captain, can’t get any upstairs?” They all laughed at Terate’s jibe. “Come down here to slum, did you?” She turned around grabbing the wall of the shower while spreading her legs. “Here you go, hun, it ain’t a mitzer, but once you go enlisted, you’ll never go back!” She turned around as everyone in the shower laughed so hard they struggled to keep from falling.

Tyler donned a fake smile. “Thanks, Terate, but I wouldn’t want to catch anything!” He quickly left to the sounds of her soldiers oohing and ahhing at Tyler’s comeback. He didn’t turn around as she yelled obscenities toward his retreating back. He didn’t know what the history was between her and the Captain, but it was obviously volatile.

After the troop quarters, Tyler grew bored with his explorations. Nothing jogged the missing memories, and with so many tight corridors and locked rooms, he’d not seen much to improve his knowledge of the world.

He fiddled with the controls of the device and made his way to the cafeteria to see if Nurse Treet was off work. He desperately needed more information, and she was his best means to acquire it. He knew her interest in the Captain was far from professional, but if it meant additional data, he could look past that.

* * * *

The cafeteria was crowded when Tyler finally found it. The room was large enough to hold a couple thousand people, and according to the device Nurse Treet provided him, there were several others the same size throughout the facility. The one he found was strictly for officers and civilians, and Tyler was relieved to not have to eat with the enlisted troops. After his experience with Terate’s team, he’d had enough of the lower ranks. He realized he was being snobbish, but based on what he’d seen so far, officers and enlisted did not appear to hold each other in high regard.

Tyler wondered what kept the military together. Was the enemy a strong enough adhesive to keep civility within the military ranks? If the military was so difficult, then what was the civilian population like? Did they have large cities that weren’t yet destroyed, or was the destruction he’d seen an example of the entire planet? If it was, then what were they fighting over?

Questions plagued his empty mind while he waited for Nurse Treet. He hadn’t really paid attention to time when she’d told him two hours, so he hoped what he thought was an hour matched the time on their world. Although he’d stared hard several times at the clocks throughout the facility, he really couldn’t read what time they indicated. That skill was another blank in his memory.

Being inside the underground bunker, he wasn’t even certain if it was day or night, though the activity in the cafeteria seemed to indicate most were getting off work. However, since it had been night when Terate’s team found him, he assumed it must be nearly daylight outside. Did they work during the night? If darkness hid you from the enemy, he could understand why that schedule made sense. Daylight rarely helped anyone during battle.

Surprisingly, he wasn’t tired despite everything he’d been through. The body was full of energy and vigor despite a painful lack of memories. He couldn’t understand what suppressed the memories his Onyalum spirit should readily access, but it must be something severe. Whatever it was, it wasn’t going to reveal itself while he waited.

Unfortunately, the food in the cafeteria was not labeled, so he’d helped himself to a large glass of purple liquid he hoped would taste like wine. Unfortunately, it tasted more like mouthwash mixed with prune juice, and it left a strange film on the inside of his mouth. Because his memories couldn’t identify the substance, he assumed this was the best they had to offer and sipped begrudgingly.

He passed on the food but decided it smelled rich and tempting. Most of the dishes looked heavy, greasy, and filled with strange gray matter Tyler assumed was meat. It didn’t look appetizing, but he figured that was because he had no memories with which to associate it. He would wait for Nurse Treet and hope she could direct him to a suitable meal. She was a nurse, surely nutrition was a specialty.

Tyler found a small table that fit no more than three people against the back of the right hand wall, and he had a good glimpse of the entry so he could spot Nurse Treet when she entered. Most of the people looked middle aged or older, and Tyler wondered if the youth were enlisted into the non-commissioned ranks for fighting.

He’d managed to piece together Captain Morone was military intelligence assigned to a small unit that disappeared during their last mission, but what had happened? Did something kill his unit and leave him without memories? He was chilled with the guilt of surviving while the entire team was lost. It was something commanding officers dreaded.

He knew surviving was good regardless of the circumstances, but a part of him wondered what happened. Like the Colonel, he wanted to know what befell his team, but he would be happy with even basic facts. How many were on the team? What was their mission? Where had they gone?

To many questions swirled through Tyler’s mind and he squeezed his head trying to release the memories that were locked inside. A sound beside him made him look up.

“Hi, Captain, been waiting long?” Nurse Treet smiled with the same longing in her eyes.

Tyler returned the smile, though he felt uneasy with the sexual connotations. “No, not too long.”

“Good. Have you eaten?” She asked as she eyed the large drink in front of him.

“No, I just needed something to sip on.” He took as sip as if to prove to the point. The sounds of her giggles made the unusual taste sour in his mouth. “What’s so funny?”

“I’m so sorry … it’s just that … well, do you know what you are drinking?”

Tyler didn’t like the way she stared at him. Was that pity on her face? What had he selected that could be so funny? “Uh, no, I just thought it looked good.”

“And is it?” She asked suppressing more giggles.

He frowned with the strange slickness in his mouth. “To tell the truth, no.”

“It’s okay, Captain, considering your current situation, I guess it’s not surprising.” She took the glass from him and walked over to a dump station. “I can get you something better than that.”

“What was it?” Tyler was now curious.

“Well … let’s just say it’s made from the urine of a nirrat.” She said the last word as if it was vile, and Tyler decided it sounded too much like rat’ for his liking.

Tyler couldn’t imagine anything being made from urine without being vile. “Why would they serve that?” He asked disgusted.

She smiled sheepishly. “Well, it has special properties that some find … necessary … on occasion.”

“I can’t imagine anything being necessary enough to drink urine.” He felt like spitting out the slickness that coated the inside of his mouth.

She laughed. “While I agree with you, I’m sure if your memories were intact, you would remember you’ve probably required it in the past. It’s a laxative!”

Tyler now understood why it tasted like prune juice. He grinned and almost laughed. He realized fitting into this world would be a challenge without Captain Morone’s memories. What other mistakes would he make before learning the lay of the land?

He followed her back to the food line and held both trays while she filled them with various food dishes she named, but which still made no sense. He hoped they tasted better than the drink—he already felt sick from the slick aftertaste.

Before returning to their table, she placed two glasses of liquid on the trays assuring him he would like them far more than the nirrat juice. He assumed the polite thing for a male was to carry the female’s tray for her, and he didn’t mind.

Fortunately, eating utensils consisted of a fork and spoon which Tyler felt certain he could handle. After several experimental bites, hunger overcame his finicky taste buds and he ate everything on his tray. He washed it down with both glasses of liquid before sitting back satisfied.

He belched before he could stop it and although he apologized for the rude behavior, she smiled and belched in return. Obviously belching didn’t hold the same taboos as on Earth. He watched her eat the remainder of the meal, relishing one drink and one dish in particular. She’d called the dish runash, and explained to Tyler, after the fact, that it was considered a dessert to eat last. It explained why he had eaten it first, it had the best flavor of all the dishes.

She giggled briefly before wiping her mouth and putting down her spoon. “You really don’t remember anything, do you?”

He smiled. “Nothing.”

“I couldn’t even imagine what that must be like. We take so much for granted, like eating, dressing, or bathing. What must that be like when you have no memories of the things you learned as a child? I can understand your frustration.” She downed the remnants of her last drink before continuing. “I suppose you have a great deal of questions you would like me to answer.” She said it more as a statement than a question, but Tyler readily agreed.

“Please, bear with me,” he pleaded quietly, “some of them will sound stupid.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t embarrass you if that’s what you’re afraid of.” She grabbed his hand casually as she said this, and Tyler felt her desires pulsing through her palms. It would be hard to fend her off while learning as much as he could.

“Yes … well, thank you. First, where are we?”

“This is the military command complex for the Western Alliance, East River Region. We’re both assigned to the 123rd Combat Division.”

Tyler took the information astutely, but it wasn’t what he had meant. “Thanks, but that is not what I meant. What is this world called?” He knew the question was odd, but he needed some global reference.

She released his hand and sat back, sadness pulling her features. “Wow, you really are gone—I mean your memories. We call our world Mestaphene, although I haven’t heard anyone use that name in a long time. We are called Quonan, although there once was a time when we had countries that we identified with. Now, we are only one people at war with a common enemy.”

Tyler let the word Mestaphene roll around his mind. It sounded like a good name, but it didn’t tell him much about the world. One people against a common enemy, that said something.

“Who are we at war with?” He asked.

“I wish I could tell you. We’ve nicknamed them Skinners, but we don’t really know what they are or what they call themselves.”

“Skinners? What kind of nickname is that?” Tyler asked mystified.

“It’s because all they leave behind are the skins of our people.” She said coolly.

Tyler was sorry he’d asked as he saw the pain in Nurse Treet's eyes, or rather Mannat as he’d since learned.

“I’m sorry if this causes you pain, Mannat, but I must know what I’m up against. Where do they come from?” He pushed on, hoping she would continue despite the discomfort.

She wiped her eyes before continuing. “We don’t know where they come from, but there are as many theories as there are Skinners.” She drained the last of her drink and looked Tyler straight in the eyes. “Some believe they came from the oceans after learning to breathe air. Others believe they came from the darkest jungles surrounding our planet, like a plague released on the world. Still others believe they came from … you know … up there.” She pointed at the ceiling, but Tyler caught her drift. Aliens. She sniffed again, but looked more comfortable. “See, no one really knows. They just showed up about two hundred years ago and nearly destroyed everything before we could organize and fight back.”

Wow. Tyler couldn’t believe what he was hearing. An entire world invaded by another species attempting to wipe them from the face of the planet. It was right out of a grade B horror flick.

“Then, they aren’t winning? Obviously we survive to fight them. Are we winning?” He was enthusiastic this species had survived such an oppressor.

“Well, that depends on who you talk to. Me, I think we are not winning, and that this world is exactly what they wanted.”

“What do you mean? If we keep fighting, surely they didn’t want that?” Tyler was confused by the lack of conviction in her voice.

“Really?” She asked conspiratorially. “I am of the school of thought that they are here simply to harvest the bounty we provide.”

“Well, sure, species often fight over common resources—that isn’t unusual.” It was a common evolutionary theme.

“No.” She said low with emotion. “The military won’t confirm or deny this, but many of us believe they are here to harvest us as the bounty. Don’t you get it? We are their food, and the more we fight, the stronger we become, and the more sustenance we provide. They want us to survive, heck, even thrive!”

Tyler wasn’t suspecting that. These people were fighting against an enemy that wanted them as food? It was a bizarre concept for any intelligent species, but he assumed it wasn’t unheard of in this vast Universe. Still, it left a sour taste in the pit of his stomach similar to the nirrat juice.

“Then, why do we fight?” Tyler asked.

“Please!” She scoffed. “Are you going to just turn yourself over to be eaten without a fight? Not likely!”

He had to admit, the prospect was not appealing. He’d eaten his fill of creatures during his tenure as an Onyalum, but they were always more primitive, wild creatures that were a normal food source for the people he’d inhabited. He couldn’t remember any of his food talking back to him.

“What do they look like?” He asked curious what hideous creature preyed upon these poor people. Surely it was monstrous and disgusting, that would fit the image of something preying unfairly on a helpless species. He wasn’t disappointed.

“They are difficult to get a good look at since they only move at night and their exterior conceals them with camouflage that matches whatever background they are up against. However, we know they have six legs, a large protruding beak or nose that is jagged and sharp—sharp enough to cut a man in half. They’re covered in a hard exterior, but no one knows if that is their skin or a sort of armor. They live in large structures thrust high into the sky, but no one knows what materials they use to build them. It is unlike anything we have ever seen. I have seen one myself, and I can tell you, its size and complexity is overwhelming.” She stopped to let him absorb the information.

Tyler paused in thought for a moment. “They sound like insects more than anything else.” He concluded mildly.

“Yeah, I suppose, but they are far bigger than any insect I’ve ever seen. An average Skinner stands half again as tall as the tallest Quonan. We are not a small species, but we are compared to them. It’s said they can rip a man apart with just two of their legs. They are very formidable, that’s why many think they want us to live—otherwise, we should’ve been destroyed long ago.”

The thought of such creatures filled Tyler with trepidation. He’d never seen an intelligent insect species before and he had no idea what mindset they’d have. Clearly, if the Quonan were food, that meant they had no intentions of leaving. If they were alien, this was just one more world to harvest as they spread throughout the galaxy. He’d read similar stories on Earth, but he had no idea how much of such fantasies reflected the reality on this world.

It would be easy to assume they were insects and acted or behaved like insects. A hive mind, worker bees, warrior army ants, it was all plausible, and yet not. If they were alien, their true motivations could be far different than those of an insect.

Whatever the case, he understood why the Captain’s team never returned. If the creatures were so formidable, what chance did any Quonan have against them? Could they be defeated? Could they disable their ability to harvest the Quonan? These were uneasy questions, but when survival was on the line, you fought first and answered questions later. As an intelligence officer, he now wondered what Captain Morone and his team had been doing.

“Look,” Mannat’s smile turned warm, “I can tell you more, but why don’t we go somewhere more … private?”

Tyler agreed and followed Mannat back to her quarters. His belly was full, and he hoped they could continue their conversations before she contrived to get what she really desired. Tyler held back feelings of revulsion, but he assumed in the dark, everything would work like all the other worlds. He hoped so, without memories to excite him, he felt far from amorous.

* * * *

Tyler lay in the darkness as a cold wetness seeped into his back. In the distance, he heard sounds of weapons firing through the night. Something told him to stay down as someone next to him breathed tightly as if catching their breath. He wasn’t sure who they were, but he knew they were part of his team.

Overhead, dark clouds obscured the stars normally lighting their way through battle. With a sudden realization, he understood he was in a battle, yet he felt like someone else. It was a dream, and he knew it was a dream, but in it, he was watching this other person.

As the firing stopped, an awful sound of metal on metal echoed ominously. He heard crunching sounds as six legs marched through the darkness tracking their prey. The prey was his team, and they’d come farther than anyone had ever dared. They were searching for something—but he couldn’t remember what.

The sudden scream of a comrade fell instantly quiet as the Skinner shredded the body like a paper plate. This, too, would be his fate unless he found a way to get them back to the safety of their lines. They were far from the front lines, and chances of getting through the alerted defenses seemed impossible.

He issued orders to fall back into a new defensive position. All around him, men and women scurried from hiding while laying down suppressive fire and retreating. Once they were behind the lines, their artillery would take care of the Skinners.

The night sky flashed with explosives as his crew fought against the dark creatures rapidly advancing. He fired his own weapon in the general direction of dark silhouettes and was rewarded with a screeching sound as one fell to the ground in agony. He urged his team to redirect their fire in the same direction, and more screeching could be heard as their bullets found unsuspecting targets.

They scrambled through dead underbrush, tripping over debris still littering this part of the Skinner’s domain. A distant memory ran through Tyler’s mind as he realized this had once been rich farmland with crops and a thriving commodities industry. Now, it was a desolate wasteland of broken memories and crushed dreams.

They continued retreating, the occasional scream of a soldier the only indication they weren’t going to make it. Three men pulled up beside Tyler as they scrambled over a fallen tree for refuge. They raised high enough to get firing solutions on the approaching Skinners as the sound of metal raking metal signaled the enemy neared.

Additional screams pierced the night as Tyler heard more of his team fall prey during their doomed mission. If only he could remember why they had come and why they had taken such risk. Maybe it was worth it, but then again, maybe it wasn’t. Either way, none of the team would make it out alive.

The men hiding with him opened fire as crunching sounds warned of an impending attack. They were outnumbered, outsized, and outgunned by an enemy they barely understood. If this was their final stand, then let them go in a one final blast of glory, taking as many of those vile creatures with them as possible.

He pulled his pack around, lifting out a thermal explosive. Though it wasn’t big enough to cause structural damage, it could take out more than a few Skinners with a heat that left little but a burnt hole in the ground. It would be his last duty as an officer—to ensure his team was not captured.

He set the fuse and held his finger above the trigger while his men spent the last of their ammunition holding the enemy at bay. Two had already finished their ammo, and turned to watch Tyler as he held his finger waiting for the enemy to draw closer. Finally, the last of the ammo was spent, and they huddled close waiting for the moment when a bright flash of light would wipe away all traces of their team. If they were lucky, many of their enemy would perish as well. It would be a hollow victory, but better than capture.

The awful crunching intensified as the enemy realized they’d run out of ammo. They wanted their prize intact, but Tyler had different plans. With his finger poised to ignite the device, his last stand was taken away by a blast of yellow light knocking them unconscious.

* * * *

Tyler was shaking when he woke. He was barely on the cramped cot in Mannat’s quarters, and despite his nightmare, she slept quietly, snoring noises the only indication she was alive. He was cold and naked, and slipped out of bed to dress quietly. The nightmare lingered, but Tyler grasped it was a small shred of the battle the Captain’s crew had experienced.

He assumed the Captain’s memories leaked into his sleep, how else could he explain the realism? It made sense if nothing else did, but all he could get from the fading dream was that something terrible had happened. It remained a mystery why the Captain had survived.

Mannat’s naked breasts moved gently with her breathing, and Tyler quietly pulled the blanket to cover her. He remembered their lovemaking vividly, but he also remembered how difficult it had been to get in the mood. Fortunately, as a nurse, Mannat was well versed in assisting men with difficulty. She’d said it was common for men who regularly saw combat. Tyler didn’t want to know more, but happily obliged in return for the information she’d provided.

He slipped out of her quarters discreetly and made his way down the brightly lit corridor in the direction, he hoped, of his own quarters. Through his discussions with Mannat, he’d learned sexual promiscuity was a regular part of their culture. Having children was encouraged, and the more diverse the genetic pool, the better the resultant offspring. As he realized their predicament, Mannat’s conspiracy theory about Skinners wanting to keep the Quonan alive filled him with unease.

During the two hundred year occupation, the planetary population decreased by nearly fifty percent, but over the last fifty years, the population had stabilized. Did that mean Skinners were breeding them? Did they keep the conflict alive to strengthen Quonan bloodlines and produce stronger, more fit prey? It was conceivable if not absurd, stronger prey offered better sustenance. Tyler clearly remembered other worlds where the larger the beast, the better the eating for the tribe.

Thinking about Skinners brought back images from his nightmare and he felt certain they’d been flashbacks from Captain Morone’s final mission. But it left more questions unanswered than it revealed. He’d learned the body he possessed was named Captain Turan Morone. The Captain had been married once, two children of record, status of wife unknown, presumed dead. Parents were Colonel and Mrs. Herrid Morone, mother deceased of natural causes, father retired from military and serving as director of the emergency food relief program.

The Captain was nineteen years old, no brothers or sisters, promoted to captain a year before, and decorated with three red diamonds for injuries sustained during combat, one distinguished service award, and two meritorious medals for saving his team during enemy assaults. He’d been transferred to intelligence after a promotion, four missions to date, all classified, and up till that final mission, only one casualty on his team. Current team status unknown, all twenty personnel listed as missing in action.

That was the extent of the information Mannat could glean from military records. It was more than Tyler had expected, and he had thanked her profusely for shedding more light on his mysterious past. She’d been happy to accommodate, and all she asked in return was a chance to conceive his child. Apparently, she’d been receptive during the last few days, and she desperately wanted to bear more children. Tyler disliked the offhand way they treated reproduction, but under current circumstances, he agreed it made sense. With the Captain’s wife dead, what could it hurt?

Military women were not discouraged from bearing children, in fact, they were actively encouraged. They didn’t raise their own children, but civilians provided foster homes for those born in the military. They were raised to take the place of their serving parents once they came of age. Enlisted men started training at twelve, while women waited until they were fifteen before entering service. Although Tyler thought nineteen young, the Captain was considered middle age as most Quonan rarely lived beyond fifty.

They had a short, active life, assuming they survived military service. Most didn’t, and Tyler was disturbed by the statistics Mannat had shared with him. Seventy percent of all recruits died or were captured within the first two years of service. After that, they had an eighty-five percent chance of being killed before reaching their sixth year of service. Considering those dismal statistics, Tyler understood why animosity existed between officers and enlisted. At least in the officer corps, your chances of surviving were somewhat higher, assuming you survived those first two years.

This explained why most of the enlisted were so promiscuous. Their chances for reproduction were low, so they actively pursued it whenever they could, even in the field. Combat women who became pregnant were pulled from duty until they delivered a hundred and twenty days after impregnation. It was a quick gestation period, and the women were expected to return to combat immediately afterward. Even more surprising, most couldn’t wait to return.

Mestaphene was a strange world, and Tyler wished he’d caught that incoming mitzer. He considered the planet dark and desperate and failed to see where he would ever find happiness under such brutal conditions. Suicide would be the easiest route, but something kept him from choosing that path. A small part wanted to solve the mystery of Captain Morone’s team, while the rest of him wanted to flee.

He entered his quarters wondering whether he’d impregnated Mannat. She said the odds were favorable, but most didn’t conceive so late in the cycle. He thought back to Toosia and the more normal world of Poolto. Why did this world treat parenthood as nothing more than a survival technique? Mannat said she’d bore four children so far, but only three survived delivery. She had a personal goal of eight children before she was no longer viable, and since she was eighteen, Tyler understood her desire to speed up the process. She assured him women could bear children late into their twenties, and some were able to conceive multiple children in a single year.

He shook his head in disbelief as he turned on the shower and stepped into the brisk water. He switched it off to lather with soap, not wanting to repeat the mistake he’d made earlier. The soap smelled antiseptic, and it stung his eyes harshly. Considering this species’ tough exterior, he imagined it was necessary to have a strong cleanser to get into all the cracks and crevices pitting their hide. He rinsed the remaining soap from his body and toweled off before sitting on the bed.

He wasn’t tired and didn’t relish dreams similar to those earlier, but he didn’t know what else to do. He couldn’t read timepieces, so he didn’t even know what time of day or night it was. He lay on the cot staring at the ceiling, wanting to figure out what was really happening and how he should proceed. He wanted to decide whether to stay on this world until the war killed him, or whether to end it now and move on to something more hospitable. He found the people repulsive, the food terrible, the sex difficult, and the life too harsh for any real pleasure. Was this an experience he really desired?

“You don’t have any choice.” A voice called from the doorway startling Tyler.

“Wha … who is it?” Tyler peered across the tiny room but couldn’t see anyone attached to the voice. It had sounded familiar, and Tyler was certain it spoke English.

“Yes, it is English.” The voice responded to his thoughts.

“You can read my mind?” Suddenly it was clear, the voice was Adanni, the alien locked inside—he’d thought for good. “How did you get out?” He asked resigned.

“Funny thing about that—I’m not actually out, you’re just in.” Adanni’s voice sounded resigned.

Tyler thought about his comment, but it didn’t make any sense. He was in? What did that mean?

“It means, Earthling, you are trapped same as me!”

Tyler sprang from the bed searching for the voice that didn’t come from inside his head. “How is it I hear you in the room?”

“Clever, Earthling, this may prove easier than last time.”

“What do you mean easier than the last time?” Tyler was puzzled by the cryptic comment. The alien wasn’t making sense, but something about the exchange was familiar—like déjà vu.

Adanni’s voice sounded next to his ear. “Now you’re getting it! It feels like déjà vu because this has happened before.”

“When? I have no memory.” Tyler was getting upset with the alien’s ramblings.

“Of course not, just as you have no memory of how you came to this world.” Adanni chided softly. “You have never been, and currently are not, on this world.”

“What the hell are you talking about? If I’m not on this world, then where the hell am I?” Tyler fumed at Adanni’s obfuscation.

Adanni’s laugh was soft and low. “Your choice of words is fitting, my friend, for you are in hell.”

Tyler felt an incredible unease as he heard this. Hell? Did such a place exist? He had to admit, if he were to design hell, this world fit the mold nicely.

“How is it I am in hell?” He asked incredulous.

Adanni replied calmly. “You upset a Creator and are being punished.”

“A Creator? Who? Thosolan? Just because I left him alone in that diner?”

Adanni laughed softly. “No, he is not the Creator you have upset, although I imagine you did surprise him.”

“Then, what the hell is going on?” Tyler grew restless. “Enough with the games, what is going on?”

Adanni’s voice grew cold. “I am not going to spend anymore time explaining this to you, Earthling … suffice it to say, you are trapped by a Creator, and he is creating this hell in which you believe you are living. But I can assure you, this world is not real, and I should know, it was destroyed long ago—after I left. You are reliving my past, Earthling!”

Tyler couldn’t believe the emotion in Adanni’s voice. It was a mixture of anger, sadness, and what sounded like defeat.

Still, Tyler couldn’t trust him. “Why should I believe you?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care. If you wish your own life back, then you better fight against this Creator, or we are both lost … forever.”

“Fight back? How?” Tyler was still not convinced.

A dark cloud formed in front of Tyler, and he watched it transform into the appearance of a sad clown.

“I don’t know, Earthling, but you better figure something out!”

The anger as the clown spat his words contradicted with the sad face. Tyler saw his own, old face behind the makeup. It was his from Earth. He felt a sudden pang of regret as he looked into those alien eyes. He wanted to touch it, but the face faded once more into oblivion.

How had Adanni done that? How had Tyler been able to see him when he was locked inside Tyler’s subconscious? Was there truth to his words? Was he locked inside his own mind? Was everything around him false?

Again, that feeling of déjà vu ran through his mind, and he suddenly felt queasy, wishing he’d escaped when he’d had the chance. But could he escape? If he was trapped, then he wouldn’t be able to kill this body and disappear into the Universe.

He rose from the bed and walked to the locker next to his door. Surely the Captain had something deadly inside the room? Something that could be used to take a life. He searched the various compartments, and was finally rewarded by a small pistol underneath clothing in the bottom drawer.

He pulled it from its hiding place and inspected the small caliber weapon. It was small, but looked as if it could cause death if fired in the proper spot. He tried to tell if it was loaded, but couldn’t figure out how to open it. Did it need to be cocked? He could at least tell where the trigger was. Well, only one way to find out.

He placed the gun to his head and put his finger on the trigger. Flashbacks of the diner and Thosolan held his finger. Did he really want to do this? It went against everything he’d been raised to believe. Sure, he was Onyalum and would survive the momentary death, but was it right to take this life? Then again, Captain Morone already died—it was a life that had been forfeit.

He readied himself, but stopped at the sound of a buzzer at his door.

Damn it! He decided against traumatizing someone so early, so he put the gun under his pillow and answered the door.

A young officer stood crisply at attention. “Sorry to wake you, sir, but Colonel Stantu requests your immediate presence.”

Great, his escape would have to wait. “Fine, give me a minute to get dressed.”

He closed the door and picked out a clean uniform. What could the Colonel want with a Captain that couldn’t remember anything? Had they found his team? Curiosity replaced his sullen mood as he followed the young officer down the corridor.

* * * *

When Tyler entered the room, the first thing that caught his eye was Sergeant Terate sitting calmly at the table with what looked like disdain for the officers around her. She looked up at Tyler briefly, but didn’t respond with her usual witty commentary.

Tyler took a seat near Colonel Stantu, and searched for recognition of the other men in the room. The Intelligence man and Tyler’s commanding officer were present, but the other men were unknowns, though one looked as if he were a doctor or scientist. He didn’t wear a nametag, but the rank of Colonel stood out clearly on his neatly pressed white uniform.

“We can get started now that you’re here, Captain.” Colonel Stantu looked upset, but Tyler didn’t think it was because of his late arrival. “These gentlemen, who have joined us today, are with the highly classified military intelligence group studying why Skinners are here, and what it is they want with our world.”

One of the young officers stood and handed everyone folders. Tyler took his with curiosity and opened it to scan the contents. Thankfully, he was able to read despite the Captain’s memory loss. He leafed through the papers interspersed with photographs while the young man began his presentation.

“Let me introduce myself,” the young officer began, “I am Lieutenant Manos and I work for a group dedicated to finding weaknesses in the Skinner’s defenses. What I am about to tell you is classified at the highest levels, so I must ask that this information never leave this room. Is that understood?”

Everyone shook their heads in acknowledgement, but Sergeant Terate snorted derisively at the accusation anyone would knowingly compromise their security.

“Please!” She laughed at the young officer. “Are you afraid one of us might know someone who works for the Skinners?” Her eyes widened at her own pun. “There isn’t a person in this complex that’d lift a finger to help those bastards!”

The young officer was abashed at a non-commissioned officer rudely interrupting his presentation. He looked around helpless, but regained his composure as he realized no one would come to his aid. “Yes … well, no … I realize no one would help them on purpose … but … well … they might give this information away … involuntarily.” He finished with a conspiratorial look.

Sergeant Terate didn’t back down. “What do you mean, Lieutenant? They might torture us for this information?” She looked at each of the men in the room and scoffed. “Hah, there aren’t any soldiers I know that would break under their torture!”

The young officer looked once again to his superiors for help, but the older officer just nodded.

“You see, Sergeant, we believe—I mean we know the enemy possesses chemicals that … well, to put it none to subtly, they make soldiers spill the contents of their minds unwillingly. There is no torture involved at all.”

Sergeant Terate appeared uncertain by what the man had said, but Tyler thought he spotted fear at the prospects of being used against her own people if captured. The look quickly disappeared as she replaced it with her usual bravado. “Well, then, Lieutenant, I guess we’ll have to make sure we aren’t captured!”

The officer nodded and looked satisfied before he continued his presentation. “If you pull out this photograph,” he held up a large photo showing the exterior of a Skinner facility, “you can clearly see the exterior of one of their main cities.”

Did he say cities? Tyler felt certain that was the word he’d used.

“We believe a small city such as this one holds approximately one to three million Skinners. Of those, we estimate only twenty percent are involved in military activities. The rest, we assume, function in some capacity to maintain the city and its population.” He pulled out another paper and read from it dutifully. “We have determined all Skinners are not alike. We are all familiar with the large military types actively engaging our defenses, but we have also identified three other types devoted to other, more specialized areas.”

Terate flipped through the papers as though looking for proof of the information he delivered. “What do you mean types? You mean different jobs?”

“Well, no, we mean different types of creatures.” He leafed through his folder before locating another picture that was dark and blurry. It showed a Skinner lifting the body of a young soldier onto some sort of cart. The officer held up the photo to explain. “If you look at this picture, we can clearly see the outline of what most of us consider to be a Skinner lifting a captured soldier.”

Terate stared wildly at the picture, but apparently didn’t see how it proved the man’s assumptions. “So what? What does this prove about other types?”

The officer smiled. “Well, it doesn’t—I mean not unto itself. You have to look closer to find what I am referring to.”

“Where?” She searched the picture as if her life depended on it.

“Here.” The young man held up a pen to outline an area of the photo that was non-descript. As far as Tyler could tell, it was a picture of the rocky outcrop behind the other Skinner. “This area is where you want to focus your attention.”

Terate stared at the photo with a grimace. “It’s a rock, so what?”

The officer got suddenly excited. “Yes, that’s what we thought at first until we studied it in more detail. If you look at the dark striping that covers the rock.” He held his pen and outlined the various stripes that moved laterally across the rock. “You can see they don’t match up with the natural grain of the rock.”

Everyone stared confused.

The young officer realized he was not helping matters. “Look, if this is your typical rock, then the stripes must match as layers of dirt are laid down over millions of years. You’ve seen it before, the side of a cliff or inside a rock where the stripes move in nearly straight lines to mark the various boundaries.”

Everyone remained confused.

“I am telling you those stripes are not part of the rock. They are part of something on the rock!”

Sergeant Terate finally lost patience with the science lecture. “Speak clearly before I knock some sense into you!”

The officer was taken aback by the threat of physical violence, but quickly summed up his presentation. “What you are seeing is another type of Skinner. The stripes on the rock are its six legs. Look in between the stripes, and you can clearly begin to see a face and eyes. I know it is a bit blurry as the camera was focusing on the Skinner in front, but I can assure you we have studied this picture exhaustively, and that is another type of Skinner.”

That quieted Sergeant Terate as she stared incredulous at the photo searching for the mysterious Skinner she could not see. Tyler examined the picture more closely, and after a few moments, he clearly saw the outline of another entity. It was similar to the foreground Skinner, but the body and legs were much smaller. Even the color was lighter than the Skinner in the foreground. As he studied it more carefully, he began to see a face coming through the blur. The eyes were penetrating, and its features lacked the large proboscis that was common in the military Skinners. Tyler had it, a smaller, different type Skinner overseeing the work of the others.

The officer confirmed Tyler’s analysis. “This type Skinner is smaller, we estimate a third the size of the military types, and we believe it is involved in the processing of captured soldiers. To what extent they process them … well, we aren’t sure.”

Tyler looked at Terate as the vision of this other Skinner finally came into view.

“I’ll be damned! There is another Skinner.” She looked around the room and smiled maliciously. “If it’s smaller, then it will be easier to kill!”

The officer jumped in quickly. “I don’t think so, Sergeant, we believe there are several hundred thousand of these types in this one facility alone. We couldn’t wipe them out if we sent all our troops at the same time.” He sifted through his papers before finding another one to read. “You see, we have identified two other types through photos similar to the one you are holding, but I don’t have copies since they were taken in other parts of the world.”

He looked at his paper as though confirming he had the right information. “One type is what we call a common worker, they are small, probably not very intelligent, and take care of the mundane tasks of running the city. The last type we have identified is larger than all the other ones, and appear in charge of the whole population. They are the leaders, as it were.” He looked at the blank faces around the room before continuing. “We believe the workers make up fifty percent of the population, the scientists, that’s what we are calling the one in your picture, are about fifteen percent of the population, and the leaders about ten percent.”

Terate whistled as he read off the numbers. Tyler realized this was not only an intelligent species, but they had developed into a highly specialized society. He stared at the first picture of the city and noticed how it, too, looked like a hive structure rising into the air as a pyramid of concentric rings.

“Lieutenant, I noticed your numbers only add to ninety-five percent?” Tyler was surprised at the oversight.

“Yes, Captain, you are correct. You see, we are certain there are four different types identified. However, we also believe there may be a fifth type we have never seen. That type, we believe, is dedicated to the reproduction of the species.”

It suddenly made sense. “A queen!”

The man was a bit confused by Tyler’s reference, but he shook his head in agreement. “Yes, well, we think it is the female of the species and is only used in reproduction. However, unlike a queen, we believe there are thousands of them in each city. Of course, our numbers are pure estimates, so we cannot really be sure.”

Sergeant Terate threw her picture on the table. “So what? They are insects, we already knew that!” She gave a hard cold stare at the young man shying under her intense gaze. “So, how do we swat them?”

The Colonel jumped to the man’s defense. “That’s why we’re here, Sergeant, please let the man finish.”

Terate glared, but shut her mouth at the admonishment.

The officer spoke quickly to fill the uncomfortable silence. “Yes, we have been studying their weaknesses, and they do have a few. For example, we know they produce some sort of food source within their city, we think it is some kind of mushroom or algae they can grow in the dark. Probably a carry over from an earlier evolution. However, we don’t believe that food source is adequate for such an enormous population.”

“So they eat us after all?” Terate smiled smugly at what she had always assumed was true.

“Maybe.” The young officer conceded. “But if that were true, they would be sending out raiding parties on a regular basis. Considering our operational losses each year, our captured or fallen troops could not sustain that many Skinners. No, there is something else they eat, but we don’t know what. We are hoping to answer that question with your mission.”

Terate scowled darkly. “You mean you want my troops to sacrifice their lives to find out what those damned insects eat for lunch?”

The Colonel shot her a warning glance and she held her tongue.

“No, Sergeant, that is not all your team will be doing. We want you to find out what the female’s look like, where they are located within the city, and what systems interconnect with that area.”

“Oh, that’s all? Why didn’t you say so, we’ll just walk on in and ask where the beauty parlor is. Piece of cake!” Terate sat back with a sour look on her face.

The Colonel held his head in his hands, frustrated by the Sergeant’s complaining. Tyler jumped in to ease the tension.

“You want to kill the females.” It was the most obvious reason for wanting to know where they were located. Poison one of the systems that either feeds or assists the females in some fashion, and you could completely destroy their ability to make more Skinners. Kill the queen bee and you destroy the hive! Tyler thought darkly.

“Yes, Captain, that is one of our objectives, although not your mission.”

“My mission?” Tyler asked surprised.

The Colonel looked at Tyler intently. “Yes, Captain, you are leading this fact finding mission, and the Sergeant here is going to go with you.”

Terate could take no more. She stood up and leaned over the table threateningly, her muscles clearly pumped as if ready for battle. “I will not let my soldiers follow this … this Captain!”

Tyler for once agreed with her. He didn’t think this was a good idea, and he certainly didn’t feel up to the challenge. “Sir, I have to agree with the Sergeant, I can’t remember anything about myself or my lost team. Why would you want me to lead this mission?”

Terate sat down, arms folded, shaking her head in agreement.

The Colonel didn’t back down. “Because you lost your team on your last mission, you may be able to provide some additional information that will help the team penetrate their defenses.”

Tyler quickly reacted before they made a huge mistake. “That’s what I am telling you, I don’t remember anything about that mission. What could I tell them that would help?”

“I talked with your doctor Captain, and according to him, being back in the field may help you recover some of your memories.”

“But, sir …” Tyler pleaded desperately.

“No buts, Captain, you’re going to lead Sergeant Terate’s team, and that’s final.” The Colonel stood strong and glared at Terate daring her to challenge him. She sulked and glowered at the Colonel, but held her opinions to herself.

“Great.” Tyler said morosely. “How do you propose we get into the city?”

The Lieutenant spoke up. “Well, your team was on that very mission when you apparently ran into trouble. However, we had other teams on an identical mission and one made it back. I have all their information to help us, and we are quite certain their entry into the city will be successful. Of course, that’s assuming we get past their formidable defenses first.”

Terate stood up and headed for the door. She turned back staring each in the eye. “Well, let me know when my crew should report for your barbecue, meanwhile, we’re going to celebrate our last moments alive!”

The Lieutenant looked at the Colonel before answering. “We’re leaving in twelve hours, Sergeant.”

She snorted in disgust and left the room.

Tyler hoped her dire predictions wouldn’t come true, but he didn’t feel confident as he thought about the Captain’s team. He believed they couldn’t get near the hive without being detected.

The Lieutenant looked at Tyler questioningly. “Captain, if you would like, I thought we might get a bite to eat and talk about the intelligence I have, and the parameters of our mission?”

The Colonel stood. “Of course he’ll join you, won’t you, Captain?”

Tyler nodded, following the young officer into the corridor. He turned to salute the Colonel and the rest of the officers before closing the door. They walked in silence before turning the corner towards the cafeteria. They suddenly stopped as Sergeant Terate blocked their path.

“I just want you two officers to know one thing before we go on this venture. If I believe you are leading any of my troops into imminent danger at any point during this mission, I will personally kill both of you and pull my team out. Do we understand each other?” She glared at Tyler with steel in her eyes.

He frowned. “Yeah, we understand each other, Sergeant.”

He and the Lieutenant watched Terate’s receding back in disbelief. This would be more than an adventure, and Tyler was certain he and the Lieutenant would not likely return from the mission. He thought absently about Adanni and had to admit, if he were a god, this certainly matched his concept of hell.

* * * *

The team huddled at the base of what could only be called a sewage pipe as horrible smells emanated from the dark opening triggering the gag reflex. Tyler tried to avert his eyes from the debris littering the ground producing the foul odors that stung his lungs. He was afraid of what he might see in the excrement of these foul creatures.

Despite Sergeant Terate’s dire predictions at every turn and rock, the Lieutenant’s intelligence allowed them to skirt enemy defenses and walk right to the base of the towering city. Though Tyler was disgusted by the entry point, he had to admit, their chances seemed better now than when they’d started.

The original plan was to broadcast what they saw back to their base, but their signals weren’t getting past the Skinner’s jamming, so they’d lost contact halfway to the city. The Lieutenant assured them they’d figured this would happen, and that he was recording everything with his camera, so they only had to ensure the film made it back. Tyler laughed inwardly, he was certain no one would see their front lines again, let alone deliver film. Still, they’d come this far.

Fortunately, team communications cut through the clutter, so they could split up and remain in contact with each other. The team consisted of ten people from Sergeant Terate’s squad, plus Tyler and the Lieutenant. It wasn’t a large force, but that made their progress faster and stealthier.

Unfortunately, twelve of them couldn’t just waltz through the interior of the city, so Tyler positioned half outside in a perimeter around their only escape route. He informed them he wanted hourly updates while the rest of them split into two teams to explore inside the hive.

Tyler took one woman and one man with him, while the Lieutenant took Sergeant Terate and another soldier. Tyler didn’t like the idea of the Sergeant and the Lieutenant together, but the Lieutenant had virtually no field experience and needed someone who was combat ready. The Lieutenant attached another camera to Private Staten’s helmet and assured her he would be able to monitor what they saw on his hand held monitor.

Tyler thought it would do little good for the Lieutenant to watch as their team got slaughtered. However, the Lieutenant was quick to point out the defenses inside the city would be minimal at best as the Skinners probably felt confident perimeter defenses could not be penetrated. They only had to stay out of sight to prevent detection. However, without a map, staying out of sight might prove impossible.

Regardless, they made their way through the long dark sewage pipe until both teams split at a junction heading in opposite directions. Tyler led Private Staten and Rakur through the rotting mess toward what he hoped was a way out of the sewers. The smell alone would be enough to alert the inhabitants to their presence, so getting out of the sewage was top priority.

They finally came to what looked like an access hatch, and Tyler climbed up cautiously, listening for sounds on the other side. For all he knew, they might come out into the middle of a Skinner street bustling with rush hour traffic. It would end their mission quickly.

Everything sounded silent on the other side, so he cautiously opened the hatch to take a peek. He slid his remote viewing scope through the opening and stared into an empty, but dimly lit corridor. Considering the low light levels, he was betting it was rarely used. He opened the hatch completely and ordered his privates into defensive positions in the corridor above. He followed quickly, closing the hatch to hide signs of their intrusion.

Unfortunately, their wet feet left small prints of raw sewage in the corridor, but Tyler hoped any passerby would disregard it as messy workers not cleaning up after accessing the sewers below. He ordered them to smear the prints so you couldn’t make out actual footprints, but after completing his order, he decided it had looked better the original way.

They left the mess behind and headed down the corridor in the direction Tyler thought might take them further into the city. They were clearly on very low levels, so they had a long climb ahead before discovering anything interesting. He wanted to move without being detected and ordered the privates to keep their eyes open for any wall or floor access that appeared to lead to interior electrical conduits. With their smaller bodies, Tyler hoped they might move within the walls avoiding detection. So far, the wiring at this level ran along the exterior of the walls. Aesthetics were apparently less important in the basement.

They moved cautiously keeping a constant ear to the sounds around them. The last thing they wanted was to run into a team of workers who could alert the rest of the city to their presence. He didn’t know whether workers would attack, but he didn’t want to find out, although he was curious to see these other types of Skinners.

They rounded a corner and Tyler instantly signaled them back as he spotted movement farther down. He silenced them with hand gestures, and took out his scope to see what they were up against. He fed the line around the corner and zoomed through the gloom. Fortunately, the device was night vision capable, so he saw most of the details.

On the left side of the corridor, a single worker accessed a power junction which dotted the corridors at regular intervals. Just like the Lieutenant had told them, the workers were much smaller, though Tyler thought they were like miniaturized versions of the military types. They had six legs, the long proboscis, and the dark color normally associated with Skinners. However, this one looked smaller than either of the privates with him, though he wasn’t going to let size fool him. If this was a worker, it probably had great strength as it was called upon for heavy lifting inherent in mundane duties.

He signaled only one to the privates, and sat back trying to decide what to do. They could wait until it finished its repairs, but that could take hours, and some other workers might come along in the meantime. They could certainly take this one Skinner down, but that might cause more noise than desired. Tyler was confused, but one of the privates lifted an enormous blade and signaled he could take it out quietly.

Tyler thought about the offer and what it would mean when the worker didn’t report or show up for duty at a specific time. Would that be enough to alert the city, or would it be overlooked as sloth? Considering the orderly society they had, sloth was not likely a problem within the population. Still, it could be hours before anyone noticed the absence, and that might be just enough time to complete the mission.

He signaled the private to proceed, but indicated he would have to crawl silently along the conduit to reach the creature undetected. The young man nodded he understood and stripped most of his utility belt and weaponry from his body. He re-sheathed his knife, and slowly climbed up the conduit.

After initial testing, he determined it would hold his weight, so he pulled his legs up and began the slow process of moving toward the distant worker. Tyler monitored his progress with the remote scope, checking that the Skinner remained focused on his work. So far, the creature looked intent on completing the repairs as four of its six legs held various pieces of equipment.

At one point, everyone froze as a strange metallic sound echoed through the corridor. After a moment, the sound stopped, and Tyler assumed the creature was speaking with its supervisors or headquarters. The creature quickly returned to its task as Private Rakur inched closer. Tyler knew speed and surprise were important elements if they were to succeed in dispatching this lone Skinner. The private neared the location and prepared for an attack.

Tyler and Private Staten watched the monitor with nervous anticipation as Rakur slowly looped his legs over the conduit to attack from above. Tyler agreed it would be the least expected position to attack from, but he knew from experience that it provided the least amount of leverage. He hoped the private was quick and accurate.

With blade held ready in his right hand, Private Rakur swung forward and stuck the knife between the head and shoulders of the creature. Within moments, the creature fell to the ground screeching briefly until blood drowned out the sound. As Private Rakur swung down, he aimed his knife one more time and silenced the squirming Skinner. It was over in less than a minute, and Private Rakur quickly signaled them to meet him.

Tyler was happy by their success, but they still needed to hide the body. As the private donned his gear, Tyler looked over the various tools and equipment the Skinner had with him but didn’t recognize anything. Even if he had, he was certain he couldn’t operate it. Ultimately, they dragged the body down the corridor to another access into the sewers. After dumping it unceremoniously into the stench below, they cleaned up the large pools of blood as best they could.

They continued moving down the corridor when the Lieutenant’s voice crackled in Tyler’s ear.

“Captain, can you hear me?”

Tyler was annoyed at being startled. “Yes, what is it?”

The Lieutenant’s voice sounded excited. “Look for a red sign with three slashes through an oval.”

“Okay, then what?” Tyler asked as he scanned the surrounding walls.

“That’s the symbol for elevators used by the workers to move through the lower levels. You can take the elevator up to the mid-levels and continue your search.”

“Okay, where are you?” Tyler asked curious.

“We are … just a minute.”

Tyler overheard mechanical sounds through his earpiece coupled with the rasping sounds of Skinners talking. After a moment, the sounds stopped and the Lieutenant returned.

“Sorry, we had a couple of workers riding up with us.”

“What do you mean? They didn’t see you did they?”

“No, we rode on top of the elevator.” There was more silence followed by sounds of bodies dropping to the ground from the roof of the elevator. Tyler was glad they were smart enough to stay hidden. “Okay, I’m not completely sure what their symbols mean, but I would estimate we are at least twenty levels above our entry point.”

Great, they were already ahead of Tyler and his squad. “All right, Lieutenant, keep hidden and see what you can find. So far, we can’t locate any elevators, so we’re still near the bottom level. I’ll update you when we find one.”

“Okay, good luck, sir.”

Tyler’s earpiece went quiet as the Lieutenant broke communication to continue their search. Tyler passed on the elevator symbol, but the corridor they were in stretched into the distance for hundreds of yards with no visible break. They were on a level that simply didn’t have adequate access, and though this boded well for the missing Skinner they’d dispatched, he realized time was ticking away without progress.

Suddenly, Private Staten called Tyler back.

“Cap’n, I think I’ve found something.”

Tyler walked back wondering how he had missed what she’d found.

“What is it?” He asked looking in the direction of her finger. He could just make out a small hatch behind the conduit running the length of the ceiling. It would be tight, but they could probably fit through the opening. The question was, what was the hatch for and where did it lead?

Tyler helped Rakur lift Staten up so she could grab hold of the conduit and investigate. She steadied herself with her legs and hands, and used her left hand to pry open the hatch. It took time, but she finally opened it. Tyler handed her a flashlight that she pulled with her through the narrow opening.

Her muffled voice drifted down. “It is much larger inside than the opening would suggest. We should easily fit.”

“Where does it go?” Tyler asked hoping it led upward.

“Looks like it follows the corridor. At least as far as I can see with this light.” She popped her head back out looking for orders. “We gonna take it?”

Tyler looked down the corridor and decided it would be better if they were out of sight regardless of whether the tunnel led them anywhere useful. Unfortunately, they would likely miss their opportunity to locate an elevator, but he was tired of their current progress and was willing to take a chance.

He boosted Private Rakur up who swung his legs around the conduit to help Tyler up. Tyler climbed over his body and was about to pull himself through the opening when the sound of an approaching vehicle froze both in fear. It was moving fast, and Tyler hoped they could get inside before it passed underneath.

He hooked one hand into the opening of the hatch while helping Rakur pull himself up. Both were exposed as the sound drew near. Tyler grabbed Rakur and practically pushed him through the narrow opening, easing off as his utility belt got wedged. They both pushed and pulled until Rakur’s feet finally slid into the ceiling.

Tyler could already see the headlights of the vehicle as he tried to pull himself through the hatch. Desperately he fought his gear, and finally succeeded as his compass tore free from his belt and fell to the corridor below. He was glad the sound of the vehicle masked the crash of his compass, but he wasn’t certain the driver wouldn’t notice the item falling from the ceiling.

He tried to pull the hatch closed, but it wouldn’t budge with the limited leverage he had. Still the sound grew louder as headlights reflected brightly off the pieces of broken glass littering the floor. Tyler was certain they would be discovered, and gave up on the hatch as the vehicle roared past.

From his limited view, he couldn’t tell if there had been a driver or not, but the sound as it rushed away made it clear they’d noticed neither the broken compass nor the open hatch. Tyler breathed a sigh of relief and signaled them to continue in the same direction as the tunnel. At least now they could use their flashlights, although progress was slowed as they hunched over to fit through the tight access.

* * * *

After the close call with the vehicle, Tyler was happy they’d finally chosen the access tunnel above the main corridor. Despite its cramped size, they made good progress and found another hatch leading them into a small room with a single door and a sign with three slashes through an oval.

They rode the elevator up what Tyler hoped was thirty plus floors before crawling through the elevator shaft to locate another way out. The elevator they’d rode suddenly filled with what Tyler assumed were scientist types taking it back down to the lower levels.

Fortunately, they didn’t have to climb much before finding a small hatch opening into a utility room filled with electrical panels and access to a ventilation shaft. Once inside, they easily climbed through the air ducts and followed it stopping at various grates to see what details they could discern with his remote scope.

He tried contacting the Lieutenant when they’d reached the upper levels, but either the Lieutenant wasn’t responding or their communications were hindered inside the enormous structure. If there were large amounts of electrical power being used on the upper floors, their radios could easily be rendered useless. He hadn’t heard from the soldiers outside either and assumed the same problem prevented their communication. Either way, they were on their own, and Tyler was determined to complete the mission.

The ventilation shaft was large enough to walk upright, and they made quick progress scanning many rooms and corridors. As far as Tyler could tell, the area they were in was rather innocuous, more like offices than food production or species reproduction. After an hour, he decided to move further up the building in hopes of locating something useful.

It took another two hours before they found a grate feeding air into an enormous space. The area was shaped like the inside of an egg, and all along the walls, large green plant-like growths flourished. From their position near the top of the room, Tyler saw hundreds of spidery workers tending this internal garden. Hanging from the top center of the room, a large light filled the space with daylight. Tyler imagined they were using fiber optic technology to feed the sun’s rays into this hidden garden.

He moved Private Staten into position so her camera could get a good view of the room. It would be good intelligence, despite being the food source they’d already suspected. After getting the shots, they moved up several more levels seeking additional revelations.

Tyler lost count of what floor they’d reached, but he assumed they’d passed the hundredth floor. If the structure was hierarchical based on position in society, then he figured they were nearing the area where the leaders were located. He was betting that would be where the females would be situated if mating with the leaders produced offspring.

He moved up one more level before Private Staten stopped him.

“Sir, wait a minute, I sense something down this direction?”

Tyler was impatient, but she’d found the hatch in the lower levels. “What is it, Private?”

“I’m not sure, but it feels warm and moist.”

“Probably another greenhouse.” Tyler concluded as he began to pull himself up.

“No, sir, I don’t think so. It smells, I don’t know, like a hospital.”

Tyler paused as he thought about her description. It could just be a medical facility, but then again, it could be a place where they reproduced young. Warm, moist, and antiseptic, that fit the description Tyler imagined.

“Lead on Private, we’ll follow your nose.”

They moved through the shaft quietly, turning left and right several times before stopping in front of a large opening. It was everything they’d hoped for. Through the vent, they spied a large nursery where various offspring matured from inside what Tyler assumed were eggs or cocoons. The room was circular and stretched into the distance on either side of the opening.

All around, machines purred and hummed with various tubes connecting the eggs to needed nutrients and antibiotics. It was a veritable Skinner factory, and Tyler held down the urge to set explosives. That was not their mission, so he pulled Private Staten forward to film as much as possible. When he was satisfied they had enough footage, he scanned once more for the females producing the eggs.

He couldn’t see where the eggs came from, but a tube hanging overhead looked like it delivered fresh eggs from somewhere above their current position. Tyler watched as a new one dropped into a bin held by a scientist who promptly hooked it to the various tubes. That meant the females were at least one level higher.

He signaled the privates they were moving up, and they searched through the shaft looking for a connector that would take them up a level. It didn’t take long to find one, and they climbed onto the new level, searching for another grate to spy through. They finally located another circular room containing small Skinners hooked to strange machines. As far as Tyler could tell, the female Skinners, who were completely white, were also blind and didn’t have legs. They were like small slugs attached to various devices lighting the room with a strange, green glow. Humming from the machinery filled the air as scientists tended to their precious charges.

The Skinners had automated the reproductive process, and it required hardly anyone to oversee the operation. Tyler pushed Private Staten into the grate to take film of this primary objective. The only thing remaining to find was their alternative food source, and Tyler hoped the Lieutenant and his team already succeeded.

He tried his radio once more, but only silence responded to his attempts. He was beginning to wonder whether something had happened to the Lieutenant’s team when Staten suddenly jumped back from the grate. Tyler and Rakur were startled as they tried seeing past her to the cause of her reaction.

Staring through the vent was a Skinner scientist analyzing their intrusion into their inner sanctum. It was more curious than alarmed, and each of them remained frozen while the creature analyzed the situation. Tyler’s mind ran through a hundred things they should be doing, but he was mesmerized by the face staring back at him. He tried desperately to peer beneath the hideous veneer and see what soul, if any, the creature possessed. But it was too alien, too remote, and too cold for Tyler to discern compassion through its black eyes. Even as it turned its head from side to side in a very human-like gesture, Tyler could only think insect or monster.

No intelligent creature Tyler ever met had more than two legs and two arms, yet here was a highly evolved creature with six. Tyler fought to control his revulsion, trying to analyze their situation without prejudice. If the alien tended to their females, it was not a warrior and probably posed little threat. However, it would surely view an alien intrusion into their reproduction facility as a serious threat. But it continued to stare at them, like it, too, was trying to decide how best to respond. Tyler reached for his gun slowly as he finally decided they could not allow this Skinner to signal the others.

The Skinner didn’t seem concerned by Tyler’s movement and it almost sounded as though it were trying to communicate with its metallic rasping filling their ventilation shaft. It looked directly at Private Staten, and Tyler thought maybe it was curious about female Quonan. Considering the inhumane function of their females, it must have seemed strange to see another species’ women actively engaged in combat. He almost had his weapon free when the creature spotted his hand and the weapon.

Instantly, the creature released its grip from the grate and fell to the ground as it issued the most piercing scream Tyler ever heard. It physically hurt his ears as it continued to screech its warning. Tyler tried to move to the grate to get a clear shot, but it was too late as the entire facility suddenly rang with alarms and flashing lights.

Private Rakur grabbed his arm to hold him back. “It’s too late, sir, we gotta go!”

Nodding, Tyler holstered his weapon and began running down the shaft with the privates in tow. “We’ve got to get down to the lower levels if we have any chance of escape. I will be taking every down shaft I come to, so keep pace!”

Tyler heard sounds above and below as ventilation grates were being ripped from the walls as Skinners entered the hunt. His breath was loud in his ears as his body pumped adrenaline pushing him to his outer limits. They quickly descended forty floors before too many Skinners swarmed the ventilation shafts. As far as he could tell, there weren’t sensors in the shafts, so their progress could not be tracked except through sight and sound.

He knew running along the shaft would provide a loud beacon to anyone listening, but they couldn’t just stand still until a patrol ran into them. They had to get down to the lower levels, from there, who knew? He jumped through another shaft and began to head in the same direction when movement up ahead stopped him in his tracks.

It was a Skinner entering through a grate, and it was a large military Skinner, dark and threatening. It screeched as it saw Tyler back tracking in the opposite direction. Tyler stumbled into Rakur who’d just jumped down onto the level, and he yelled at both of them to head in the opposite direction. He followed Rakur down the dark shaft as he heard Staten make the jump behind him.

He heard the crunching of the Skinner’s feet as it moved through the shaft in pursuit. Tyler assumed they had an advantage with their smaller size as the sound of their pursuer began to fade into the background noise of alarms. Tyler almost fell when Rakur suddenly dropped in front of him through another shaft.

He steadied himself above the opening as he made his leap into the darkness. He could already hear the footsteps of Rakur as he didn’t stop running once he hit the ground. Tyler followed quickly as he verified Staten kept up.

He wasn’t sure how many levels they’d gone through, but the sounds of Skinners inside the ventilation system grew louder. He knew they needed to abandon the air ducts and find an elevator to make the rest of their descent. But that, too, posed many risks as they would be forced into the open to locate one.

He thought back to his original plan of finding power conduits to move unseen. If such a thing existed, and Tyler suspected it did, they could easily move through them until they located an elevator. He’d noticed when they were in the elevator that many of the power lines ran up and down through the various levels inside the shafts. That meant there must be a junction where each level met the incoming power feed. The question was where?

He followed Rakur down another level and stopped as he noticed a grate. He peered through it into a small room with a control console against the far wall. Above the console, a thick power coupler ran into the ceiling. All they had to do was break through the ceiling and follow that power line to the elevator shaft. It required a lot of what-ifs, but he knew their time was limited in the ventilation system.

“Rakur, back here!” He yelled down the dark shaft as he leveled his foot at the grate and slammed it into the empty room below. He hoped the young Private heard him, at least Staten was there to follow.

He jumped to the floor and ran towards the console leaping onto its surface to inspect the ceiling panels above. Fortunately, they were lightweight and moved easily for access. Tyler had hoped for a drop ceiling hiding the internal guts of the power and communication systems. He pushed the panel out of the way just as Staten and Rakur ran up to the console.

Tyler wanted to hide the grate on the floor, but he knew they didn’t have time. He helped the two privates into the cramped ceiling space and pulled himself up before securing the panel once more. At least the Skinners wouldn’t necessarily know they had gone into the ceiling, they would just as likely assume they were using normal corridors to escape. It would buy them some time while they tried to locate an elevator shaft.

He ordered Staten to follow the largest power line, and all three moved slowly as they crawled through the darkness. Tyler skinned his hands and knees several times as he scrambled over metallic framing, water pipes, and power junctions. But the large power line seemed to run forever, and Tyler began to wonder whether his insight had been correct. It took a great deal of time to move through the cluttered space, and he knew it was only a matter of time before the Skinners would begin looking through all access ways.

“Cap’n.” Staten whispered loudly as everyone came to a stop. “I think I see an exit.”

Tyler hoped it was an elevator. “Ok,” he whispered, “see where it leads, and be careful.”

He and Rakur heard her move off through the darkness while they waited to see if they had safe passage. Within moments she returned. “Good news, it leads into a power relay station, but I spotted an elevator on the other side of the room. So far, no Skinners.”

Tyler couldn’t believe their luck. They were like mice, hard to find despite knowing they were there. He was glad the Skinners didn’t plan for an internal invasion and didn’t have good sensors within the city. It was obvious they never spied on their own people, so it left the complex completely open to those who could use that fact to evade capture.

They scanned the room before removing the ceiling panel and jumping to the floor. They ran to the elevator and Staten took up a defensive position while Tyler and Rakur pried the elevator doors open. Within minutes, they were inside the shaft making their way down. They heard the elevator moving below, but it never ascended to their level. It would be slow going.

Hours passed as they slowly climbed down the shaft with sweat pouring into their eyes. The city alarms were finally disabled, and so far, everything remained quiet. They had temporarily eluded their pursuers and made the best of it as they moved farther down to the lower levels.

Even if they made it outside, he knew it would be swarming with Skinner patrols looking for where the intruders had penetrated the defenses. He wondered about their team outside and hoped they were smart enough to abandon their positions and move to safety. He’d tried his radio several times but heard nothing but static as the alerted city increased its jamming efforts.

At this point, Tyler knew it was up to them to get back across their own lines with the valuable information they’d collected. He hoped the rest of Sergeant Terate’s team could make their way out as well. For all he knew, they were already captured after Tyler’s team set off the alarms.

He heard the elevator moving towards them and he signaled everyone to find a space to wait for it to pass. He could make out the top as it moved up, but it stopped a couple floors below them. Tyler had to decide quickly, take the elevator or keep climbing? His arms and legs were tiring, and he saw pain on each of the private’s faces. He made up his mind.

“Move, let’s get on that elevator fast!”

Each scrambled as they tried to reach the elevator before it took off again. Tyler practically slid along the rail as he raced down the two levels to the top of the elevator. He reached it and gently lowered himself to the top as sounds indicated it was about to move once more. Rakur joined him but Staten was still a few feet from the top. Suddenly, the elevator lurched upward, and Private Staten jumped onto it into the waiting arms of Tyler. He caught her, but the movements of the elevator made him lose his footing, and both fell hard onto the roof.

They froze as the sound of their landing likely alerted the elevator’s occupants. They remained silent as the elevator slowed to a stop at its intended floor. They heard the doors open and the crunching sound of occupants filing out. The doors closed and the elevator stood silent waiting for another floor to summon it. Did their luck hold? Perhaps the people didn’t notice their intrusion.

The question was, should they stay on the elevator or climb through the shaft? They were tired and Tyler didn’t think they could continue the long climb to the bottom. He hoped the elevator would move down to lower levels after sitting idle for so long, but it didn’t budge.

“Okay, we’ve got to decide, climb or take the lift?” Tyler looked at each of the privates who stared at each other for guidance.

Rakur finally spoke. “Maybe it will go down next?”

Staten nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it spent a lot of time at the lower levels before—surely it will move back down.”

Tyler realized they didn’t want to climb, but were nervous about where the elevator might take them.

“Fine we’ll—” The sound of the elevator starting interrupted his comment, and all looked concerned as it began to rise.

Their fear increased as levels rushed past on their way to the top of the building. After several minutes, the ground they’d covered was past them as they sped upward. He looked at the scared faces of the two privates and shrugged his shoulders. “We had a fifty-fifty chance.”

The elevator continued its climb until the top of the shaft came into view. They pressed themselves flat to avoid contact with the oncoming barrier, but as they neared, the elevator slowed, stopping several meters short. The shaft grew silent as everything remained motionless. Tyler and the others rose quietly to see where they were and whether they could find a way out.

They were trapped and would have to wait for the elevator to move down before they could escape. The silence filled the impatient minutes with fear as Tyler pulled his gun from its holster anticipating anything. The privates noticed his readiness and followed suit, swinging their rifles around.

Above them, Tyler heard a sound like something being slid open. Suddenly, a small metallic object dropped from above rolling to a stop at Rakur’s feet. The Private quickly pulled his feet up as Tyler stared at the device from his nightmare.

The bright light blinded, and Tyler saw only whiteness until blackness washed over him.

* * * *

A repetitive clanking sound roused Tyler from slumber, and he struggled to open his eyes to peer through the gloom. His vision swam with black spots as he struggled to focus on the blurry objects moving through his vision. He tried rubbing his eyes to clear the view, but his hands were bound to the top of a cold, hard surface partially inclined. A deep chill ran across his body indicating he was completely naked. The clanking sound continued as he reminisced of trains on old tracks.

“Close.” Adanni’s voice sounded next to Tyler’s ear, and he turned his head trying to spot the alien. “Don’t bother, Earthling, your vision will take a few more minutes to return. Those grenades they use are quite effective at blinding and stunning their victims. You never had a chance.”

Tyler hung his head as he recalled the incident in the elevator shaft. They’d been ambushed, stunned, and easily captured.

“We shouldn’t have taken the elevator.” Tyler said calmly.

“Oh, contraire, mon frère!” Adanni said jubilantly. “You give yourself way too much credit. You never would have escaped this facility once you’d been detected, so it didn’t really matter which way you took.”

“And how do you know?” Tyler asked bitterly.

“You forget, Earthling, these are my memories. I know.”

“Great, then you can tell me where I am.” Tyler’s vision began to clear as the clank-clank sound suddenly stopped.

Adanni laughed quietly. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

“Yes, I do want to know,” Tyler demanded, “so stop playing your games!”

“Fine. You are in the prisoner processing facility deep below the city. You see, you foolishly believed the building only went up, but it also goes down. Way down.”

Tyler didn’t like the thought of a dungeon. Dungeons were notorious for horrible things. “So what, we rot inside a jail?”

Adanni laughed even harder. “You wish!”

Tyler’s retort was stopped by lurching as the train like sound started once again. This time, he was moving with the sound, and his clearing vision spotted the large tracks on which the rack he was bound moved. It traveled to his right through a dark tunnel before entering a well lit room bustling with workers and a single scientist.

The room was long and rectangular with an identical track along the opposite wall. However, instead of racks connected to that track, shackles hung empty, waiting for some hapless hands or feet. Tyler’s movement stopped.

He heard the Skinners talking with their raspy metallic voices, and one looked over at him as he stared back challenging. He turned his head to the right and spotted two more racks, one containing a naked Sergeant Terate and the other a teammate Tyler didn’t know. Both were unconscious.

“I assure you they are, as you should be. But I guess the true horror is knowing what will happen as opposed to sleeping through it like everyone else.” Adanni sounded knowledgeable, but Tyler was more concerned by what he wasn’t saying.

“Won’t they knock me out now that they know I am conscious?” He looked at the workers who stared at him as he talked crazily to the mysterious voice only he could hear.

“I don’t think so—your being awake shouldn’t hurt the processing.”

“Thanks.” Tyler tried his binds, but they wouldn’t budge. Apparently his outbursts were not considered a threat as the Skinners turned their backs to focus on the other track that sprang to life.

He watched in horror as body after naked body came into the room hanging upside down with feet shackled and hands bound. All were unconscious, and Tyler thought they should be thankful.

“Why are they hanging upside down while I’m strapped to this rack?” He asked curious.

“They’re not viable breeders, so they’ll be prepared for storage.”

The comments only confused Tyler, but something was deeply disturbing. Breeders? Storage? It all sounded ominous.

“Oh, trust me, it is.” Adanni replied.

“So, I’m a viable breeder, is that it?”

“Apparently.” Adanni agreed.

“Then, I will be used as breed stock? I will breed with a captured female?” It was definitely inhumane, but Tyler could think of worst things—storage for instance.

“Yes, probably Sergeant Terate next to you, but it could be anyone from their existing stock.”

“Well, I can think of worse torture.” Tyler said quietly.

Adanni hummed softly. “You don’t actually think you will have sex with her do you?”

“What do you mean, how else?” Tyler asked, mystified.

Adanni’s voice laughed darkly as the silhouette of a sad clown materialized in front of Tyler. “You will simply be a donor before being stored as well. Same with her.” He pointed at Terate who lay unconscious. “You two are much too dangerous to keep around, but your genetic material will help bolster their stock.”

Tyler’s mood sank deeper as the realization of what was happening hit home. They would harvest their sperm and eggs to transplant into someone else. But why?

“You saw their females didn’t you?” Adanni said casually as he walked over to the worker who was spraying disinfectant on the three bodies hanging limply.

He thought one looked like a member of Terate’s team, but he couldn’t be sure. “You mean they breed us using their own females?”

“Oh, yes.” Adanni quickly agreed as he turned back to face Tyler. “They are masters of biological and chemical systems. They can produce a new Quonan in thirty days whereas traditional breeding takes one hundred and twenty.”

“But, why?” Tyler asked quietly.

“Food.” Adanni said coolly.

Tyler realized the rumors were correct. They were being bred as food stock, and the final puzzle piece fell into place.

“Watch.” Adanni said as he turned to the worker who had finished hosing the bodies down.

The track moved again, and the first body moved near the end of the right side of the room. The scientist controlling the track stopped it before the body entered another tunnel. Tyler watched in horror as a large device descended from the ceiling with various tubes, pumps and needles.

“This first chemical is meant to process the skin. You know, create a sort of container for the rest of it.” Adanni said calmly as needles injected a thick green substance into the feet, thighs, chest, and neck of the poor, helpless Quonan.

Almost immediately, the body shook as it fought the deadly substance.

“Oh, my god, they are still alive?” Tyler felt bile rising in his throat.

“Oh, yes.” Adanni agreed. “You see, it is best to keep them alive as long as possible until the processing is completed. Once they are dead, storage is difficult.”

Tyler wanted to turn away, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the gruesome scene. “What does that green stuff do?”

“Well, it sort of tans the skin, but keeps it very flexible so it can expand.” Adanni smiled briefly as the body’s twitching subsided. “There, the nervous system connecting the muscles has been disabled, but the poor Quonan is still alive, though not conscious. Now comes the good part.”

The machine changed needles, and a dark orange substance was pumped into the limp form. Tyler grew ill as the body began to expand from the increase in bodily fluids. Once the pump stopped, the body was nearly twice its original size, and the skin puffed out stretched thin. Tyler noticed the eyes of the poor soldier were open, but the eyeballs had turned ghostly white.

The clank-clank sound began again as the next body was moved into position to repeat the process.

“Surely that poor soul is dead now?” Tyler asked on the verge of being sick.

“Oh, no, not usually for another hour or so. It’s a miracle they can keep them alive so long under such extreme circumstances. Like I said, they are masters of the biological and chemical sciences.”

“Geez, that is disgusting!” Tyler averted his gaze to the lifeless face of Terate next to him. “Is that what will happen to us as well?”

“Eventually.” Adanni shook his head while watching the horrible processing of the next soldier.

“And will I be conscious when it happens?” Tyler asked grimly.

“Hmm, well, that depends on how well you handle the sperm collection process. It will be extraordinarily painful, so you may pass out from shock.”

“Thanks, I feel much better.” Tyler closed his eyes trying to ignore the twitching of the body across from him.

“Look on the bright side.” Adanni said. “This isn’t real, it’s a fake world.”

“So you’ve told me.” Tyler said dubious. “So how do I get out?”

“That, I am afraid, is up to you.” Adanni walked over to Tyler and looked him in the eyes. “I have no way of freeing you. I, myself, am trapped, remember?”

Tyler laid his head back against the cold steel and stared at the ceiling exasperated. The clank-clank began once again to line up the final body for processing.

He didn’t know why he thought he could escape, but he began to scream and shake the rack as he wildly flung his body against the restraints. The rack moved dangerously as he got leverage and wildly thrust as the two workers sprang into action to subdue him.

One grabbed the left side of his rack as the other reached for the right, but Tyler was too quick as he spun the rack off its track and onto the one worker holding the other side. They all fell to the floor with a crash, and Tyler strained his muscles to the breaking point as he tried to free his bindings.

He felt the other worker quickly pulling him and the rack off the co-worker as Tyler struggled against his binds. He felt one giving way and attacked it with all the strength his muscular Quonan body could muster. It finally gave under his strength and he flipped over as he pulled against the last bind holding his arms. Within seconds, he had his arms free and worked on his feet as the two workers surrounded him trying to contain his escape.

A sharp rasping sound from the scientist urged the workers to subdue him, but several blows to their heads caused them to back off scared. They weren’t fighters and they weren’t used to their captives attacking them. Tyler freed his left leg and worked on the right while fending the workers off with his free hand. He finally freed his leg and scanned the room looking for an escape. He didn’t know what he could do or where he could go, but he wasn’t giving up without a fight. Real or not, he wasn’t going to allow himself to play the helpless victim.

He ran toward the scientist who ducked behind his arms as Tyler sprang through the door behind him. He fell hard to the floor and lifted himself up as his feet tried to carry him further from the horrors lining the walls around him. Another worker stood in his way and Tyler fell to the ground with his right leg pushed up into the underbelly of the hapless Skinner. The body fell limp to the side and Tyler sprang back up running to the next door. He slammed through it and suddenly fell to the ground as his vision swirled darkly to the throbbing of his head. Within moments, his escape was over.

* * * *

Clank-clank. Clank-clank.

Tyler heard the distant sound as it rang in conjunction with the pain in his head. He opened his eyes and saw an inverted view of a Skinner spraying him with a foul smelling liquid. He closed his mouth and spat out the nasty substance burning his tongue and cheeks. It took a moment to realize what was happening.

His escape failed, and now he was being prepared for storage. A deep fear ran through him as he struggled uselessly against the binds holding him. He tried to pull himself up, but a large military Skinner bashed him across the head with a weapon. Tyler’s vision blurred from the blow, and he hung limp as the track moved him closer to his fate.

Clank-clank. Clank-clank.

He thought about Adanni’s words and hoped he was wrong. Perhaps this death would free him from this horrible world and back into the Universe. Still, he would have to endure an hour of torture until that final moment came, and he wasn’t certain he was up to the experience. Would his body fall unconscious when the pain sent him into shock? He could only hope as the track stopped below the injection device.

He struggled once more, hoping the guard would knock him out, but the Skinner stood silently as the machine moved into position. The guard knew it would be over quickly, there was no need to damage the goods further.

Tyler closed his eyes as the needles pierced his skin with an intense burning that quickly spread through his body like fire. He felt like River Red as the heat burned inside. His skin felt like it was being peeled off, and his muscles sensed the distress shaking the body uncontrollably as the chemicals began their insidious transformation.

Tyler’s mind reeled with pain, but he was helpless to stop the process. His mind kept him from going into shock despite the intense trauma. He tried screaming to allow the pain some release, but it continued to eat through him like acid. The nervous system controlling his muscles was already disabled, and he hung limp as the second needles pierced him once again. He felt the liquid agony inflating him like a balloon.

His mind sensed internal bubbling as chemicals reacted with various internal organs. His skin expanded like a balloon as the needles pumped their vile substance. The pain was unbearable, but still his mind would not disconnect from the torture raging throughout his body. He was a bloated sack of liquid near exploding, and even after the needles pulled free, he was left with a searing pain as his internal organs melted into a thick, caustic substance stretching his skin taut.

Clank-clank.

His body moved inextricably onward, the last of his vision fading as his eyeballs solidified like hardboiled eggs. The feeling from his limbs slowly receded as the chemicals ate away muscle and tendon. But still the searing pain screamed through his mind as the gruesome process turned him from an intelligent life form into a sack of liquid food.

The pain would not stop as he felt his body moving endlessly along the track, deep into the storage facility with the rest of the captured Quonan. He tried to count the minutes till death would free him, but time stood still as the pain ripped through his very soul. He was torn from all rational thought. He wanted to die, wanted to end the torture, but only pain answered his pleas as the clanking finally stopped, leaving him swaying gently amid a thousand rows of dead Quonan.

His only thought, as the pain indicated his brain was being destroyed, was that he wouldn’t be alive when they ate him.

Awakened

Nine year old Tyler Jensen banged his head on the car window as he dozed off during the long, hot ride through the Utah desert. He’d had enough of this family adventure and desperately wanted to return to his friends and new bike.

Constant fighting with his older sister coincided with fights between his mom and dad. Vacation had evolved into something more akin to torture than relaxation, and the mood within the car was ominous as they passed ruddy colored rocks filling the alien desert landscape. It wasn’t Los Angeles, and Tyler wondered why anyone would consider the desert a vacation destination?

He stared morosely at the back of his mom’s head as she gazed absently through the window with tears running down her cheeks. They’d had another fight, and both of his parents were stewing since neither could escape the confines of the car. Tyler’s sister remained asleep against the other window while his younger brother gurgled happily, strapped to a car seat in the back of the mini-van.

A Duran Duran song played loudly through the tape deck while the clenched line of his dad’s jaw warned Tyler to remain silent. They’d traveled for nearly an hour, and Tyler hoped they were nearing a pit stop as his bladder felt ready to burst. He dared not say anything, so he crossed his legs and tried to count cactus as they continued through the midday sun.

Despite catching himself before falling completely asleep, a strange vision of monsters had invaded his mind. They were dark, large, and had six legs that made crunching sounds as they moved. He’d never seen anything like them and wondered how his mind could have conjured such a frightening image. He chalked it up to a toy he’d probably seen in one of the tourist traps. Unfortunately, he couldn’t remember which one.

The pain between his legs grew unbearable as he gratefully felt the car slow upon passing an exit sign. Thankfully, he wouldn’t have to ask his dad to stop. The car turned left on the overpass and traveled another half mile to a small Indian trading post beckoning with promises of authentic Indian art and rugs sold with cold ice cream. Tyler only wanted a restroom, he knew ice cream was out of the question.

They pulled to a stop, and his sister woke quickly, following her dad out of the car and into the small shack that looked like it had been carved instead of constructed. He slowly opened his door to the swirling, hot, dry air. His mom sat silently with her head held in her hands.

“You coming Mom?” He asked tentatively.

She quietly replied behind sniffles. “No, I’ll stay with your brother—you go ahead, dear.”

He shrugged before walking around the front of the car onto the covered porch. An old Indian, looking as carved as the rocking chair he sat in, held a Coca-Cola bottle in one hand and a flute in the other. Tyler stared at the old man as he walked inside the building, but the Indian didn’t appear to notice him.

He cruised past rows of tourist bobbles and junk food as he made his way to the cashier. He spotted his father looking over stuffed rattlesnakes while drinking a soda and smoking a cigarette. Tyler ignored him as he approached the young Indian girl behind the register.

“I need to use your restroom.” He said quietly.

The girl smiled as she handed him a key chained to a plastic Horned Lizard. “It’s out in the back.” She pointed in the general direction of the back of the building. “You’ll have to go around outside.”

“Thanks.”

Tyler took the key staring at the fake Horned Lizard attached to it. He kind of liked its realism and wondered if he still had enough money to buy one. He trotted back to the porch and noticed the old Indian was gone. He turned right and followed the sign with a hand pointing around back that read ‘Outhouse’.

He passed his sister on her way back, and noticed she carried a key chained to a miniature pink cowgirl boot. She had a disgusted look on her face, and he imagined the rural restroom was not matching her required standards of decency. He smiled as he passed her, but she caught his smirk and pushed him into an old Coke machine rusting against the wall.

“What are you laughing at, you little shit? I hope a rattlesnake bites your dick off!” She left him leaning against the Coke machine with evil thoughts about killing her running through his mind.

He backed away cautiously as she stormed into the parking lot. He’d never liked his sister, and since they’d started this trip, their relationship became even more strained. He could sense his family unraveling, but he’d always assumed it was a normal part of family life. He optimistically assumed things would work out in the end. Though he had plenty of friends whose parents were divorced, he never seriously considered his parents would. Still, his mother was crying more often these days.

He unlocked the door marked with the metal outline of a cowboy swinging a lasso and entered what could only be remotely called a restroom. On the far wall, a smudged mirror with a large crack down the middle stood menacingly next to a machine touting ‘Ribbed for her pleasure!’. The sink below the mirror was heavily stained with rust, and the water from the spigot dripped noisily.

The lone toilet looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in several months, and the toilet paper roll hung empty. Tyler was glad he only had to pee. As he released the pressure that nearly doubled him over, he tried sinking a helpless fly floating in the bowl when a strange sound caught his ear. It was like distant music—like a flute playing far away.

He finished and decided against washing his hands in the nasty sink. The music distracted him as it beckoned with haunting rhythms. It was a sad, wayward sound that mesmerized with an uncanny feeling he’d been there before. He walked into the bright sunlight, and squinted across desert grasses searching for the source of the music.

Somewhere in the distance, the music called and he remembered the old Indian holding a flute in his hands when they’d arrived. He walked around the side of the building and noticed his sister kicking trash through the parking lot while drinking a soda. He heard his mom and dad arguing over how much farther they’d drive that day, so he assumed he had time to investigate.

He stuffed the Horned Lizard back in his pocket and set off into the desert to find the music maker. It was eerie how familiar it was as he weaved through the dried sage avoiding the yucca littering the area behind the trading post. Every now and then, something small scurried from his path, and he kept his eyes and ears open for rattlesnakes. He wasn’t afraid of them, but he knew a rattler could probably kill him if it got a good bite. Odd as it sounded, a part of him almost wanted to experience that.

He shrugged the morbid thoughts aside as he crested a small rise hearing the music nearby. He stood on the sandy hill looking back at the lone trading post before turning towards the music. He could tell it was close, and he narrowed the sound to somewhere over the next rise. He figured the old Indian’s house was probably there, and he almost returned to the trading post as he realized he would be trespassing. Still, the music called to him so he scrambled down the wash before climbing up the other side.

Once again at the top, he could see the trading post behind him, but the Indian and his music were nowhere to be found. Frustrated, he knew he was close so he scrambled down another hill and up several more. Finally, he rounded a large red rock and spotted the old Indian sitting on a rug with his flute playing to no one in particular.

Tyler cautiously moved around the rock, not wanting to startle the man as he played.

The Indian stopped and turned towards Tyler.

“Ya ta eh, little one. Sit down.” The Indian pointed to the corner of his rug.

Tyler stood his ground, trying to decide what to do. “I like your music.” He finally blurted.

“Thank you.” The Indian replied with a bow of his head. “It is music to call upon the Great Spirit for help.”

Tyler shook his head not sure what the man was saying. “You need help?” He asked.

“No, not me … my people.” The Indian picked up his flute and played more of the haunting tune, compelling Tyler to sit against the rock and listen.

The music carried strange images of stars and galaxies swirling across his mind’s eye. He imagined flying through them, searching for life beyond the small planet they called home. As he neared a world that seemed familiar, the vision disappeared as the Indian stopped playing.

The old Indian looked at Tyler with a great sigh as he stared out into the desert. “We are lost souls, my people, and we search for a new life among an alien landscape we do not understand. I call to the spirits to help lead us home.”

Home? Tyler suddenly sprang up as he realized his family must be wondering where he had gone. “Sorry, I gotta go!” He quickly scrambled back around the rock and down the wash. As he climbed over the other side, he looked across the horizon, but couldn’t see the trading post. He was certain he’d seen it when he’d first crested the hill, but now, only distant bluffs filled his view.

He realized he must be on top of the wrong hill. He climbed back down the wash and climbed out another direction, but still couldn’t see the trading post. Fear gripped him as he ran back to the large rock to ask the old Indian which way to go. He rounded the rock and stared in disbelief at the empty ground where the Indian had been.

He was scared and realized he might not make it back to his family. How had he come? He remembered going through several washes but couldn’t remember if he’d changed direction in any of them. It was kind of mixed up in his mind, and he knew he hadn’t been paying much attention. A tear formed in his eye as he felt quite alone and vulnerable in the open desert.

The young Tyler picked a direction he thought had to be the right way and began covering the distance through several washes. He continuously scanned the horizon for something familiar, but nothing looked familiar through his teary vision. He was lost. No one answered his screams as he cried for his parents.

Surely he hadn’t gone that far. The sun was slowly setting in the west. Maybe if he walked in circles he would find the trading post? He tried to find some landmark from which to keep his bearings, but nothing stuck out except the distant bluffs that were too far away. He changed direction and headed west to follow the sun. He wasn’t sure which direction they’d been heading when they’d stopped, but he knew Los Angeles was west.

He walked for what seemed like hours as the sun finally dipped below the horizon turning the dry desert into a ghostly lunar landscape. Only the tops of the bluffs glowed with the final rays of sunlight as the darkness of the desert floor hid threats Tyler knew existed. He hugged his arms against the nighttime chill seeping into his skin as he continued to walk aimlessly.

In the distance, coyotes howled their welcome to the night. He knew a small nine year old boy might easily be confused with food by a hungry pack of coyote. He moved in a direction opposite from their howling and hoped they wouldn’t follow. He was hungry, thirsty, and tired, and the cold sapped what little strength remained.

He checked his pockets, but they held nothing but the Horned Lizard mocking him in the dim twilight. He angrily threw it to the ground and scanned the horizon for any signs of human habitation. Nothing. He fell to the ground crying as he realized a lonely death faced him in the desert.

He had no survival skills. Heck, he hadn’t even camped before this trip, and without supplies to help him through it, he knew he was a goner. The daytime temperatures would fry him as he became too dehydrated to walk. Panic seized him as he screamed into the night for his mother.

His sobbing finally subsided, and the emotional drain left him shaking in the cold darkness. The stars overhead taunted him with twinkling beauty but were lost through tears staining his cheeks. There were probably stars he could follow, but he didn’t know which ones, or which direction. He was lost, alone, and would likely remain that way until death.

A sound nearby stopped his tears as he strained to listen. It was a rattling sound and Tyler froze as he realized the rattlesnake could sense heat in the darkness. He was heat and it might decide he looked like food. It was somewhere close as the rattle warned with the threat of death. But he couldn’t be sure which direction. Was it behind him or was it to his left? He didn’t know, but he had to move before he was bit.

He picked a direction he felt confident wasn’t near the rattlesnake and ran as fast as he could. He felt something scratch his skin as he leapt over tumbleweed, and feared the worst as he darted across uneven ground. He stumbled several times before finally coming to a stop to catch his breath. He couldn’t see the cut on his leg, but he felt the moisture indicating blood. If he’d been bit, it wouldn’t be long before the venom paralyzed him. That was how they ate you; they paralyzed you first, then they sucked you down alive. He, too, would soon be helpless.

He continued moving in the same direction looking fearfully along the dark ground for other snakes that might be out searching prey. His tears poured forth as he moved through the sparse vegetation, tripping over the occasional rock as he made steady progress toward the distant bluffs. He didn’t know why they would be better, but he felt completely vulnerable in the open desert.

The bluffs rose high overhead as he moved close to their base, and he hoped he could find a small cave or crevice to hide in until daylight. He walked through another wash when he froze in terror from the horrifying roar echoing off the bluffs, reverberating across the desert floor.

What was that? His mind reeled with horrific pictures of monsters. It hadn’t sounded like any animal Tyler knew. In fact, it hadn’t sounded like an animal at all. More like an ape or a monster. Tears welled as the roar ripped across the desert, this time closer. Tyler sprang into action as he sprinted the final distance to the bluffs. When he reached the base, he ran through the only opening he found into a maze of never-ending canyons. He wasn’t sure how far he’d run, but his lungs and the last of his energy gave out as he stumbled over a tree root and fell face first into … water?

He picked himself up as the water turned him instantly cold. He didn’t care. He drank heavily from the pool as thirst overrode common sense. He stopped only long enough to listen to the awful roar echoing through the canyon. Thankfully, it was still distant. Whatever made that sound was moving away from him.

He pulled himself out of the water and moved onto a large boulder at the edge of the small pool. He looked up through the high canyon walls and spotted a few stars lucky enough to pierce the dark interior. He stripped the wet clothes to wring them dry, but once again had the oddest sensation he’d been here before or at least somewhere similar.

He put the damp clothes back on and curled up on the rock against the cold air. There were no caves or openings in the smooth stone walls, so the rock was as good a place as any to rest. At least it was warmer in the canyon as daytime heat radiated from the stone around him. He felt confident he wouldn’t sleep, but that thought faded as exhaustion plunged him into a dream world.

In his dreams, he ate a grand meal inside a posh palace with a strange lady, who wasn’t really a lady. At least she didn’t look like one. Still, the food was good and she was quite gracious. He thought she’d said her name was Toosha or something similar.

* * * *

“Good morning, Tyler.” A voice pierced the morning chill startling Tyler awake.

He lifted his head to the inside of a dark canyon and spotted a sad circus clown leaning against the rock wall across from the small pool. Hope rose as he recognized salvation.

“Don’t get too excited, Tyler, I cannot save you.” The clown admitted miserably.

Tyler sat up bewildered. “Why not?” He asked suddenly concerned.

“Because I am not really here.” The clown walked over to the rock where Tyler sat. “You see, I am just part of your imagination—a hallucination as it were.” The clown pointed to Tyler’s head as if proving his point.

Tyler didn’t understand but feared something was wrong. “What do you mean, you’re not real? I can see you.”

“Yes, you are very bright for a young boy, but there is something going on here which even you cannot understand … yet.” The clown walked back toward the entrance of the canyon before stopping. “Do you know how to get out of here?”

Tyler thought back to the evil roar that caused him to enter the canyon at a full run. He knew which direction he’d entered from, so he assumed he could find his way out. “I think I can.” He said tentatively.

“Hmmm.” The clown looked dubious.

Tyler sat up and pointed an accusing finger. “How did you get in here? Do you know the way out?”

The clown smiled cryptically. “No, I am here because you are here. These are your memories, not mine.”

“Well, then, why are you here?” Tyler asked boldly.

“A good question.” The clown agreed. “Have you ever had a dream that seemed so real, that you didn’t believe it was a dream even though you knew it was?”

Tyler thought through this logic and vividly remembered past dreams that felt more like memories. “I suppose so.” He agreed calmly.

“Well,” the clown began, “I am here because this is one of those dreams, and you are trapped within it. I am here to wake you up.”

Tyler realized the clown was crazy. “I dunno, it seems too real to be a dream. Anyway, I would know if it were a dream. You said so yourself.”

“Ah, so I did, but you do know it is a dream. I am inside your mind, so, I am you, and I am telling you this is a dream.”

Tyler’s head hurt from the confusion the dumb clown was spouting. He knew he wasn’t in a dream even if he couldn’t figure the clown out. Then again, the roar last night didn’t seem real—at least nothing Tyler had heard of.

“Correct!” The clown said suddenly. “You see, that sound you heard was not real, just a figment of your imagination—your dream monster, as it were.”

“How do you know what I am thinking?” Tyler asked cautiously.

“I am you, or rather, I am inside you so I can hear your thoughts same as you.”

“Really?” Tyler asked dubious. “Then, what am I thinking right now?” He thought about his favorite breakfast food he was craving.

The clown smiled. “That’s easy! You are thinking about … Captain Crunch?”

Shoot! Tyler thought, impressed by the clown’s correct answer. “You really can read minds.”

“No, just yours.”

Tyler jumped to the pool and washed his face in the cold water before finding a clean spot to drink. The clown leaned up against the canyon wall as Tyler slid behind the large rock to relieve himself. Once he was empty, he came back to the pool noticing he was both sunburned and dirty after his ventures in the desert. He was extraordinarily hungry, though he felt nauseated.

“Hey, Mister, do you have any food?” He asked hopefully.

“Sorry, this dream does not work that way.” The clown looked as sad as Tyler felt. “You may call me Adanni.”

“Adanni?” Tyler asked curious. “What kind of clown name is that?”

“What’s wrong with it?” Adanni asked, sounding hurt.

“I dunno. It sounds fake or something.” Tyler ignored the feigned hurt in the clown’s voice. “What should I do now?”

The sun rose higher filling the narrow canyon with rays of warm light. He moved into the rays seeking warmth.

“You must wake up!” Adanni said coldly.

“Oh?” Tyler asked mockingly. “And how do I do that?”

“You must remember who you are.” Adanni replied.

“I know who I am! I am Tyler Benjamin Jensen. I live at twenty-four twenty Mockingbird Avenue, Los Angeles California, and I attend John F. Kennedy Elementary School, starting the fifth grade in one month.” He stared at the clown challengingly. “Okay, I told you who I am, so why am I still here?”

The clown put his hand on his chin as he scanned Tyler. “Because, that is who you are in this dream. You are more than that now—you are something different. Does the name Toosia mean anything to you?”

The name had a familiar ring to it, and Tyler suddenly remembered his dream about the woman in the palace who was not a woman. “She was in my dream last night. So what?”

“Really?” The clown said. “And do you know who she is?”

“No.” Tyler admitted. “She was just a dream—although there was something odd about her.”

“You mean she didn’t seem human?” The clown asked knowingly.

“Yeah.” Tyler agreed. “She was … I dunno … sort of weird. But she was real friendly!” He finished as the memory brought back feelings of déjà vu.

“Well,” Adanni concluded, “she is not human. She is an alien from a world called Poolto.”

Tyler laughed. “That’s the best name for an alien planet you could come up with? I’ve heard better names on cartoons!”

“You’ve been there, you know?” The clown said seriously.

Tyler felt disturbed by his tone. “Sure,” he said uneasily, “and Toosia was probably my girlfriend, right?”

“No, she was your wife.” Adanni said calmly.

My wife? He would surely remember being married, let alone visiting an alien world. He began to think he was losing his mind, and this clown was the hallucination that proved it.

“No, you are not losing your mind, but you are losing your freedom.” Adanni eerily followed his train of thought once more. “You are trapped and cannot free yourself. What do you think is going to happen to you out here? Do you think you will be found and happily returned to Los Angeles and your family? Why do you think you are lost in the first place? It is because this place preys on your fears—preys on your weaknesses—preys on your soul.”

“Stop it!” Tyler demanded as he ran past the clown back through the canyon. He didn’t want to believe the stupid clown, and he couldn’t give up hope just yet; otherwise, why go on?

He stopped suddenly as the canyon split into three separate paths? Which one had he come through? It had been so dark, and he had been so scared, he couldn’t remember. The fear from the night before surfaced as he realized he might never get out of the canyon let alone back to the trading post. The clown’s words taunted him, and tears pooled in his eyes.

“What do you think that creature from last night will do when it finds you Tyler? Do you think you have escaped it?” The clown asked from behind.

Tyler spun to confront him. “You are the one who is not real! You are the one preying upon my fears. Just leave me alone!”

He turned again and began running down the middle path when a sound stopped him short. The roar from the night before filled the narrow canyon stopping Tyler’s heart with fear.

“I told you it would be back.” The clown said startling Tyler.

“What is it?” Tyler screamed.

“It is a nightmare come to feed on your fears. It is not real, but if you don’t wake up soon, it will seem very real.”

“But I don’t know how to wake up!” Tyler cried as he fell to the ground hugging his knees to his chest. “I wanna go home.” He whimpered as the clown sat down next to him.

“I know you do, but you must remember who you are.” Adanni wrapped an arm around the shivering boy, and Tyler grabbed onto the strange clown, hugging him for comfort.

“Don’t let it get me.” He pleaded through tears. “I don’t want to die.”

The roar brought Tyler upright as it sounded nearer.

“Come on.” The clown grabbed his hand and led him deep into the canyons.

They walked for a long time, and at one point the roar faded, but when they stopped to rest, they heard it following them.

“Will it eat me?” Tyler asked quietly, not really wanting to know the answer.

“Maybe.” The clown answered.

“I wish I could eat it.” Tyler said glumly. “I’m so hungry, I can’t go on.”

“You must wake up, Tyler.” The clown demanded.

“I already told you, I don’t know how!” Tyler retorted.

“But you do.” The clown countered. “You have done it before—in another dream like this one.”

Tyler wasn’t sure why, but something about what he said rang true. He felt something in the back of his mind floating, tempting, but not close enough to catch. But it moved closer, and Tyler hoped it was the key to waking from this nightmare.

“You see,” the clown read his mind, “you know I am right—you just need to remember.”

Tyler sat on the ground frustrated. “I can’t.” He whined.

The clown sat across from him and smiled. “Let’s try and see if we can jog your memory. Tell me if anything I say rings a bell.”

Tyler stared morosely at the ground. “Fine.”

The clown leaned back and began reciting various names. “Toosia, Marshall Sliss, Thosolan, Poolto, Gamel, Samil, Joriss, Seram.” He stopped as Tyler didn’t respond to any of it. “Nothing? Okay, well, maybe if I told you something about their worlds.”

He began reciting a tale about a world called Gamel and a lowly priest named Samil who had done bad things after his wife died. He’d saved a girl named Joriss, and although he didn’t really love her, they used to kiss each other all the time.

Tyler thought the story boring and didn’t mention that it sounded familiar, like he’d heard it before.

“So you do have some memory of this?” The clown accused.

Tyler forgot the clown could read his mind. “Maybe … I dunno … I guess.”

“Do you remember how you hurt that poor woman when you turned your back on her to pursue your addictions?” Adanni demanded coldly.

“I did not!” Tyler shouted back. “She wanted to convert me!”

He couldn’t believe what he’d said. How did he know that?

“Because it happened—you are remembering.” Adanni said excitedly.

“But … I do remember … she wanted me to stop what I was doing and embrace their god.” Tyler was frightened as alien thoughts flooded his awareness. “The god that hated me!”

He still didn’t know how he knew these things, but he felt they were memories and not just dreams. But his young mind couldn’t comprehend it all, so he grew even more confused.

The roar sounded closer and Tyler sprang from the ground to continue his flight through the canyon. He heard the creature scrambling close behind him as it realized its prey was near. Tyler’s heart surged as he scrambled over the rocks and sand through the narrow passageways that were his only means of escape.

His adrenaline pumped like the sweat down his face, and he vowed not to stop. He didn’t care if the monster was real or not, he didn’t want to face it, so he strained under his exertions until finally running out of energy.

He scrambled through a tight spot in the canyon and entered a small open area with another pool of water. Unfortunately, it was a dead end, and he stood trapped with the creature drawing near. He curled against the far wall that blocked his escape and hoped the beast would take another path.

But he heard it moving through the canyon, large, deliberate, and hungry. He cried quietly as fear overtook reason, and his body shook with the anticipation of the deadly beast ripping him to shreds. He thought about his mom and dad and cried harder as he realized they would never know what had happened. He cursed himself for leaving the trading post and following that damned music.

He heard growling nearby as the beast neared the last passageway into the small area where Tyler huddled. He didn’t want to die, and he didn’t want to die at the hands of some horrible monster. Adanni’s words ran through his mind, but fear and his senses kept him from believing. Still, there was nothing else to cling to, so he began to chant inside his head. It was slow at first, but picked up pace as the creature crawled through the final opening.

You are not real! You are not real! You are not real!

Over and over he chanted these words in his mind, finally saying the words out loud as the dark creature turned the corner into the open.

“You are not real! You are not real!” He yelled at the enormous beast as it moved slowly towards him.

It walked on all fours covered by a long, thick coat of dark brown fur. Its legs were like tree trunks ending in large, club-like feet filled with razor sharp claws. Its head was large, and below the dark, focused eyes, an enormous mouth hung open displaying rows of sharp fangs stained with blood.

“You are not real! You are not real!” Tyler screamed at the beast, his fear keeping pace with his racing heart. His chest pounded as his heart tried to escape the awful creature. “You are not real! You are not real!”

The monster, as if confused by his screaming, paused to assess the situation. Tyler rose from the ground, the top of his head barely reaching the height of the monster’s chest.

“You are not real! You are not real!” Panic made his voice squeak the words, and his chest felt as if it were going to burst.

Convinced there was nothing to fear from the small child, the beast finally moved in for the kill.

Tyler cried the words as he scrambled back against the hard wall, tears pouring from his eyes, blurring his vision of the death awaiting him. He fell to the ground curling into a tight ball, the mantra still issuing from his lips. The beast’s hot breath sent hairs on end as it towered over his shaking body.

“You are not real! You are no—” His body flew threw the air as powerful arms picked him up ripping his shirt and raking his chest with painful claws. His body struck the far wall, and he fell to the ground in a heap of fresh, bloody wounds. He tried scrambling away, but the pain paralyzed his movements as the beast was on him once more.

It placed one large paw on his body forcing the air out of his lungs to the sound of crunching bone. Tyler felt new avenues of pain, as he chanted behind the tears of suffering.

In his mind, something drew near, something he needed to grasp. Was it death? He didn’t care as he fought to catch the elusive dream and pull it in to his screaming mind. But it eluded his reach as his body was lifted into the mouth of the horrible monster. He screamed as teeth sank into his body cutting vital organs and drowning his pleas in a blood filled throat.

You are not real! You are not real!

The words rolled through his mind as the fleeting thing moved closer to his mind’s grasp. He could taste it, feel it … remember it.

Like a dam releasing water, he grabbed hold of his memories and felt them pour into his soul. He wasn’t a nine-year old boy trapped in a monster’s mouth, he was an Onyalum trapped by a vengeful god. He felt power swelling within him as he realized his predicament. Anger surfaced to meet this power as he refused to suffer anymore pain at the hands of Gamel.

“You are not real!” He gurgled through blood, and the beast hesitated.

It dropped him to the ground, and Tyler grabbed the power rushing through him like a torrential river. Once again an Onyalum, the power flowed through a million pieces of his essence as he willed them to separate from the earthly flesh holding him captive.

The canyon, the monster, and Utah ripped away from his vision as he forced himself to wake from the nightmare. His body rocked with the building energy threatening to tear everything apart. Arcs of power flew from his body crashing explosively on everything they touched.

The other Onyalum trapped beside him burned as his energy tore through the room. The binds holding him melted in the intense heat, as Tyler raised off the table a burning cauldron of anger and hatred. His power grew exponentially as his fury fed the flames.

He would have his revenge on this senseless god who trapped him in a false hell. He leapt from the table, his white hot skin pulsing with a power from deep within. Wherever he directed his eyes, energy poured forth vaporizing anything in its path. A dark sayther materialized across the room and Tyler aimed his burning gaze at it, igniting the fur as the creature screamed in horror at the escaping demon. It tried to flee, but its body turned into a thousand ashes as its soul was sucked into the vortex of power spinning around Tyler.

Tyler sent forth his anguish into the cosmos as his insignificant body disintegrated under the intense force now driving him. He was a glowing ball of energy and sensed every element around him collapsing under the control of his ethereal substance. He released their power to feed the reaction engulfing the room.

He was drunk with power, and he reached out tendrils of energy destroying all he touched. He sucked the life force from everything, feeding the monster he’d become. His tentacles crashed through the lifeless bodies on the tables, and he pulled the terrified Onyalum spirits into his own being. They could not escape the power of their savior as their consciousness flooded into Tyler’s memories feeding the maelstrom.

Gamel materialized in sayther form, and Tyler reached out with tentacles grabbing the now helpless god in his powerful embrace. The god struggled against the energy binding him, firing his own at the glowing ball of Tyler in a futile attempt to gain freedom.

His efforts only fed Tyler’s power and Tyler grew larger as the god struggled in his grasp. Tyler felt Gamel’s spirit weakening as the energy sucked the life-force from him into the powerful black hole from which nothing escaped.

Gamel’s hell disintegrated as Tyler’s energy broke the bonds holding all the matter together. Everything bowed to his control, and he sucked it into the whirlwind he’d become. Like a fission reaction, energy sprang forth as Tyler released his fury onto the Universe. Planets and stars fell to his will as he fed the anger making him larger. Entire worlds fell to his touch, people, animals, and plants wilted under the monstrous entity consuming everything in its path.

As his size increased, his awareness pulled entire galaxies toward him, reaching out with tentacles, destroying everything like bubbles in the air. But still his fury would not end. Like a drain pulled in the Universe, he consumed cultures and civilizations, integrating their histories into his malevolent anger.

Something poked at his consciousness, but he ignored it as he tore through more galaxies. It poked again, and he was temporarily distracted. It was a tiny voice, something he could barely hear above the roar of his power.

“Tyler, stop, it is enough, please.” The voice pleaded helplessly.

“Never!” He responded with the full force of his anger.

“Please, I beg you!” The voice grew louder. “This is not the Tyler I know.”

Something caused him to pause, and he sensed the havoc he’d wrought as guilt flooded his awareness from the senseless destruction. The voice was right, this wasn’t him. He tried to pull back the monster, tried to stop the power, but the energy had a life of its own and it threatened to consume everything—even the Universe itself.

Panic gripped him as he realized he couldn’t stop it.

“Help me!” He pleaded with the voice. “Help me, Adanni.”

“Let me loose and I will try!” Adanni begged.

Tyler remembered trapping the alien deep in his subconscious, blocking him from the lives he’d shared. He reached inside, pulled Adanni free and removed the blocks that held him. But the force of the energy intruded, preventing Adanni’s full escape.

“Try, Tyler, try!” Adanni screamed.

“I can do this!” A new resolve surfaced and pulled once more, ripping down the blocks as Adanni’s essence mingled once more with Tyler’s, merging into a single entity.

Both grabbed the beast he’d unleashed and fought against the energy threatening existence. They pulled at the tentacles spreading out through the cosmos, reeling them in, refusing to let them consume anything more. Together, they were winning, and with one final explosion, the beast was vanquished leaving a dark empty scar in the Universe.

Tyler felt billions of particles filling his spirit, and they threatened to overwhelm him. He fought wildly as they vied for control.

“Help, Tyler!” Adanni cried.

Like the memories of those he possessed, both picked off a spirit filing them into their subconscious. It took an eternity, but each fell into place as they regained control. Like a locked filing cabinet, they filed away the last of the ethereal essences, the last one Gamel. They shut the door, and Tyler and Adanni blocked the threat.

“Are you going to force me back there as well?” Adanni asked quietly.

“No.” Tyler said calmly, a fresh feeling replacing the anger and hatred he’d unleashed. “Without you, none of this would have been possible. You saved us.”

“What will we do?” Adanni asked curious.

“We will live.” Tyler said quietly.

“I see.” Adanni replied.

“We will find new worlds, my friend, and we will do good.” Tyler said with new resolve.

“You’re the boss.” Adanni conceded.

“Yes, I am.” Tyler agreed.

* * * *

Like a never ending movie, Tyler replayed the memories of worlds he’d destroyed. Countless civilizations were trapped within his limitless subconscious, and the weight of what the Universe had lost hung heavy on his awareness. Many of those lost worlds were Gamel’s, but many were not. Though Tyler’s anger was vanquished, the never ending guilt would remain. He knew he would fight that guilt for as long as he lived. For an Onyalum, that was eternity.

The essence of Gamel railed against Tyler’s control, but the god was reduced to a distant thought that would never escape the confines of the new Tyler. Like those lost civilizations, Gamel was nothing more than a memory, a reference that Tyler or Adanni could peruse at their leisure. The ramifications of what he’d done still boggled his mind. Would the Universe come after him? Would the gods unite against him, pressuring the Universe to un-create that which they’d claimed was beautiful? Where was the beauty in all that destruction?

And what of the Onyalum? Several hundred lay trapped within him, but like Gamel, they were only memories without force or substance. What would the rest of the Onyalum think? Would they fear and loathe him for the threat he posed? Would they unite with the gods in their cries for vengeance? Would they care? Adanni assured him they would never unite against anything, even the downfall of their own kind.

Time passed slowly, and still nothing happened. He was alone, and only Adanni could break the universal silence surrounding him. A part of him was glad to be free while another cried for the death that would free him from this existence. He’d never wanted to cause so much death and destruction, and now that he had, the derogatory name ‘Nayllen, Destroyer of Worlds’ seemed aptly appropriate. Was Gamel right in his accusations? Was Tyler really a demon? A threat to everything living in the Universe? It was hard not to agree.

But his new resolve would not let him wallow in the self-pity and guilt staining his soul. He would find a way to repay his debt to the Universe and make reparations for the damage he’d done. He felt confident he could find life among the stars and renew his sense of purpose and fulfillment. He would do good.

Adanni didn’t necessarily feel the same obligation to the Universe that Tyler did, but he remained cooperative in trade for his newfound freedom. The Onyalum would never fully adjust to life with Tyler, but he would do anything to remain free from the fate of the other Onyalum locked in their subconscious. He was ready to follow Tyler, even if it went against every fiber of his being.

Surprisingly, Tyler found no trace of the planet Gamel inside his memories. Rifling through Gamel’s memories, he was able to confirm the galaxy still existed. He left the giant hole in space to see how the planet fared without its god. As he arrived in Malane, he assumed he might be capable of harnessing Gamel’s knowledge and conjure a facsimile of Nerun, but he held back as he was unwilling to take on the role of a living god.

Despite this reluctance, he was pleased to find Joriss and Seram productively rebuilding the world they’d been given. God or no god, they were prepared to lead Gamel into a brighter future. Their family boasted four children, and Joriss was pregnant with yet another. The planet was alive with children as the survivors of Gamel’s return took their charge to heart. Villages thrived where once only extinction threatened.

Tyler wondered if they could survive without their god. Would the planet be able to recover without the guiding hand of its Creator? Tyler struggled with this thought before deciding to help. He wasn’t a Creator, but he had access to the memories of one, and that might be just enough to figure out what to do.

He traveled to the oceans ringing the northern and southern hemispheres using his newfound power to feed energy into the enormous bodies of water. He held back the maelstrom that threatened and successfully built a new ecosystem where moisture from the oceans fed the deserts with life. He knew it would take generations for the planet to fully transform, but it was a start.

The survivors were given new bodies free from the sterility that once plagued the world. Pregnant women tended the ever growing population while men, renewed with purpose, began rebuilding the paradise that had once been. The villages began harvesting the bounty of the mountains while trying to farm the desert now blessed with regular showers. The planet was growing, and Tyler was satisfied.

He reluctantly left them to their own evolution so he could take care of one more loose string. He needed to apologize to the one true friend he’d found in the empty vastness—Thosolan.

Thosolan. He thought the name with all his force. Please, I need to speak with you.

He waited patiently before feeling the familiar rush of his spirit being pulled into a body.

With the transformation complete, Tyler sat quietly on a park bench amid an alien landscape. It looked like he was on a small, lifeless moon orbiting a gas giant spinning gently over the horizon. Without an atmosphere to obscure the light, the galactic stars outlined the giant’s shape as a backdrop to the red planet below. It was awe inspiring, and Tyler felt insignificant once more.

“I would not call you insignificant.” A voice said softly.

He turned to the saddened face of Uncle Sal dressed in the formal attire from the show. “Thosolan!” Tyler exclaimed happily. “Thank you for seeing me.”

“Did I have a choice?” Thosolan replied in a serious tone.

“What do you mean?” Tyler asked. “If you mean last time—I want to apologize for that. I didn’t mean to be angry with you—I was unable to control my emotions.”

“And now?” Thosolan asked quietly.

“Now?” Tyler echoed slightly confused. “Now I can control them … and my destiny.”

“I see.” The face of Uncle Sal stared at the red giant spinning relentlessly from the force of its own gravity. “Thank you for the apology, Tyler.” Thosolan sat silently for a long while before finally speaking. “You destroyed a lot of creation.”

“I know.” Tyler admitted quietly. He saw Thosolan trying to come to terms with the new power Tyler had unleashed. “I didn’t mean to—I couldn’t control it.” He finished lamely realizing it was the story of his life—no self control.

“And next time?” Thosolan asked, peering into Tyler’s eyes as if reading his soul.

“What next time?” Tyler asked surprised. “It’s over. I am no longer that selfish person. I am a new man, or Onyalum, or whatever! Honest.”

Thosolan’s piercing gaze probed Tyler before turning away. “Like you were a new man when we met?”

“Yes! I mean no. No, I have grown—I am different.” He wasn’t sure how to explain it, but he knew he was a changed person.

“And the alien inside. What’s his name? Adanni? Does he feel the same way?”

“Wha … oh, him? Yes, well, I guess I’m not sure, but I am still in control.”

Thosolan stared at the ground deep in thought, but finally spoke. “They call you the Slayer.”

“Who?” Tyler asked concerned by the new label. It was bad enough he’d been branded ‘Nayllen, Destroyer of Worlds’, but now he was the destroyer of everything.

“The Creators.” Thosolan said calmly.

“Oh.” Tyler felt ashamed. It hadn’t taken long to become something feared throughout the Universe, and he wondered whether the Universe would still enjoy watching their new creation.

“They have pleaded with the Universe—rather, they have demanded you be destroyed.” Thosolan admitted. “The Universe refuses, and some say it is because you can’t be destroyed.”

“What do you mean?” Tyler asked, surprised by the admission.

“I mean, you have broken down every barrier between the ethereal Universe and the material Universe.” He spread his arms to indicate all the stars and planets around them. “No one knows how you have done this, therefore, they fear you.”

He’d known his actions would be viewed with fear and concern, but now Thosolan confirmed it. He was truly alone, no god or Onyalum would dare interfere with him.

“What does that mean?” He asked wondering how he would live among the Creators that now feared him.

“It means, Tyler Jensen, you are ultimately free to do anything you wish.” Thosolan stood and took a few paces before turning. “I hope you use this gift well, my friend. Remember, creations are the greatest love a Creator knows. When you destroy them, you destroy a part of that Creator. You of all people know the pain of loss, so I hope that pain will guide your future actions.”

With those final worlds, the moon, the planet, and Tyler’s body disappeared as he was released once more into the vacuum of space.

Tyler whispered a pledge to use his experiences to guide his future actions. He did not want to cause destruction anymore than the Creators he now threatened. It would have been easy to place all the blame on Gamel, but he knew he was just as culpable. Would he spend an eternity battling his addictions? Would he be continually haunted by his losses, denying him peace? Puzzling questions, but questions that would have to wait until he sought out another life to live.

“Where to, Earthling?” Adanni asked solemnly.

After a moment, Tyler responded. “Somewhere… quiet.”

Glossary

Earth

Antonio De La Fuego

Raul’s competitor

Jesus Alvarez

Raul’s friend and associate

Linda Ashton

Tyler’s girlfriend from Bellaire

Maria Fuentes

Raul’schef at Mexicanvilla

Raul Sanchez

Tyler’s drug supplier and friend

TheColonel

Mercenaryhired by Antonio De La Fuego

Tyler Jensen

Los Angeles drug dealer turned Onyalum

Gamel

Joriss

Samil’s prostitute lover

Lesil

Female Pretal sharing Tyler’s quarters in Malane

Meramses

Slimsa's aide and confidante

Mineran

Joriss’s lost love that died during his Trial of Gesh

Minish

Samil’s Pretare from Manseer

Nerun

Grand Pretarch of Gamel and leader of Malane

Samil

Addicted Pretal from Kidium

Seram

Samil's apprentice in Kidium

Sherim

Samil’s daughter and sole healer in Kidium

Slimsa

Young Pretal providing perneem to Malane

The Vereen

Powerful priestess of ancient sex cult

Tress

Samil’s son in-law in Kidium

Mestaphene

Captain Teran Morone

Intelligence Officer for Western Alliance

Colonel Stantu

Western Alliance Commander over Captain Morone

Lieutenant Manosh

Intelligence officer for Western Alliance

Mannat Treet

Nurse that helps Tyler

Private Herran

Point man in Terate's squad

Private Rakur

Captain Morone’s squad member in Skinner's hive

Private Staten

Captain Morone’s squad member in Skinner's hive

Sergeant Terate

Squad leader of Western Alliance

Poolto

Admiral Nayllen Osloo

Supreme Military Commander of Poolto

Emperor Hallen Yooso IV

Imperial leader of Poolto

Commandant Askgar Kulg

Commander Krildon Republic Navy

Councilor Hiirtee Slay

Admiral Osloo’s father in-law

Dragor Paat

President of Krildon

Eyleeria Snillen

Admiral Osloo’s assistant and lover

Grand Marshall Goolen Sliss

Admiral Osloo’s most trusted aide and advisor

Kooroo Saleen

Captain of Admiral Osloo’s flagship

Nattur Osloo

Admiral Osloo’s father and ambassador to Krildon

Nayllen Hooss

Poolto arms manufacturer

Universe

Adanni

Onyalum merged with Tyler

Thosolan

Benevolent Creator who befriends Tyler

Gamel

Angry Creator of Gamel

About the author:

NB VanYoos has years of experience in the military, high-tech, and educational fields. He was awarded a BS in Computer Science and MA in Curriculum and Instruction from the University of Colorado. He teaches high school mathematics in Colorado where he resides with his wife, two daughters, and their Welsh Corgi.

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Email:

author@nbvanyoos.com

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http://www.nbvanyoos.com

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http://getanythingdone.wordpress.com

http://www.onyalumwars.com

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