H.A.L.F.: The Makers (16 page)

Xenos led them through a wide doorway that looked as though it once had a door but was now only a hole in the wall. She stepped over a pile of rubble, and Erika tripped on it before realizing how large it was. This hallway was darker than the others. And it smelled awful. Erika tried to place the smell and finally hit on it. The place smelled moldy.

“Dr. Randall, do you smell that?” Her voice was full of excitement.

Dr. Randall had just stumbled on the rubble and came up behind her. He sniffed the air. “Well, it’s – I’ll be damned. It’s water. From the smell of it, lots of water.”

Erika gave Xenos a slight shove to let her know they were ready to proceed. Even Xenos walked more slowly to keep herself from tripping over broken concrete and small divots on the ground.

They walked for maybe a hundred yards down the crumbly corridor and arrived at a dead end. In the dark, it was difficult to see what lay before them, but the entire wall ahead appeared covered in bumps and curves.

“I can’t see a darn thing. I wish we had a flashlight,” Erika said.

“Flashlight?” Xenos asked.

“A portable light. Just any light. I’m sick of not being able to see anything.”

Xenos went to the right side of the small room they were in and did something. A row of dim lights along the floor flickered on. She pressed something else, and another dim row of lights came on overhead. It wasn’t as much light as Erika would have liked, but it was enough to illuminate the wall before them.
I hope this doesn’t alert the Conexus that we’re down here.
She looked back down the corridor, but they remained alone.

“Well, we found something,” Erika said. The entire wall, at least ten feet high and as many feet long, was covered in what looked like a very old apparatus of pipes and conduit with what looked like the housing of an old electrical and computer system. But the wires were eaten away, the dials gone.

Dr. Randall stumbled as he pressed forward. “What the –”

Dr. Randall’s mouth was open wide in awe, his lower lip practically hanging to the floor. Dr. Randall gingerly touched a conduit. His fingers moved slowly over the wall of broken wires and rusty pipes.

“You okay?” Erika asked.

“It’s – it can’t be. It can’t be.”

“What? What can’t be?”

But Dr. Randall was lost as if in a trance, his fingers moving, touching, his eyes wandering and taking it all in.

“Dr. Randall – what is it?”

His mouth hung open with surprise, but there was wetness pooling at the corner of his eyes. “I – I know this place.”

“How can you know this? You’ve never been here before.”

“But I have. I’ve been here many times. I know this place.” He smiled; then tears streamed down his face. The crying gave way to a laugh that was as disturbing as it was loud and out of place in the dim quiet of the alien world.

“Dr. Randall – snap out of it. Don’t wig out on me now. Can we use this?”

He wiped his face with the back of his hand and grabbed Erika by the shoulders. “Of course we can. It’s exactly what we need.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I built it.”

U’Vol’s magnificent, richly embroidered ceremonial robes created a billowing cloud of red about him as he walked through the streets of Zhichta on his way to meeting with the Council of U. The sandstone pavement was the color of weathered bone and the stone buildings a checkerboard of beige, tan and parchment. The city was aglow under the bright midday sun. Though he would miss his wives and children keenly while way, he would not miss the overly hot monochromatic world on which they lived. He preferred the lush green of Ghapta to the endless sea of sands of Uktah.

As he passed through the open market, shopkeepers bowed and children ran after him, hoping to touch his robes as he passed. U’Vol waved, took the hands of old ladies and graced them with generous smiles. Even among the M’Uktah, U’Vol was a towering figure of a man. At over eight feet tall, he could be seen by most everyone as he moved through the marketplace. By the time he was midway through the market, a throng surrounded him. U’Vol was good natured about it. They all wanted to speak to and touch the man who nearly single-handedly quashed the Kreelan uprising, making him a near legend in his own time. The citizens had high hopes that he would secure the new food stock and end their fears of starvation.

Despite taking the time to soothe Eponia and greet commoners in the market, he was only a few minutes late for the council meeting. U’Vol walked swiftly to make up for the time. A thin film of sweat beaded on his bald head as he entered the grand foyer of the halls of the council. Great columns of smooth reddish-tan stone atop gleaming red-flecked creamy marble created an impressive entryway. Two guards stood sentry at the closed doors of the council. They pushed the heavy stone doors wide to allow him entry. They didn’t need to ask for identification. All knew he was U’Vol Vree’Kah, the noble hunter captain.

As he entered, all rose to greet him except Vrath, the Lij, High King of Uktah. All twelve council members bowed to him and he bowed to each of them, including U’Baht, his mentor and friend. He greeted Vrath last and bowed deeply to him. Vrath was old, even for a M’Uktah, and had been Lij for the last one hundred of his two hundred and forty years. Vrath had ascended to become Lij the year that U’Vol was born. Vrath had always favored U’Vol and had personally chosen U’Vol’s first wife for him. It was in large part due to Vrath’s influence that U’Vol had ascended to captain his own ship after the Kreelan uprising.

U’Vol softly kissed Vrath’s deeply wrinkled outstretched hand. It had become bristled with coarse hair on top, as was common for the elderly M’Uktah. Only the Vree’Kah were genetically altered to be entirely hairless. The rest of the M’Uktah population, though not furry, had thick plentiful hair on their heads. Males frequently grew luxurious beards, sometimes long enough to reach the floor. As they aged, many M’Uktah’s hair on their arms and legs grew more coarse, darker and longer, giving them the appearance of having thin fur. Vrath’s hairy hands showed his advancing age more than the wrinkles around his eyes.

Vrath touched the top of U’Vol’s head and he rose. Vrath’s old spine was arthritic and he was stooped over. U’Vol stood nearly three feet taller than the stooped old man dressed in billowy royal blue robes embroidered with threads spun of the finest gold. Vrath’s orange eyes had become slightly cloudy, but they twinkled as he smiled up at U’Vol.

“You honor the council with your presence, U’Vol. We know that you have many things to attend to in preparation for your journey. Please, be seated.”

U’Vol helped the king to his wide, richly carved chair. The dark, nearly black wood was said to be from the last tree that had grown on Uktah in the age before the first Lij, well before the time of starships.

U’Vol took the seat of honor to Vrath’s left. It was a place reserved for those invited to speak at the Council of U. It was not occupied very frequently. U’Vol felt the eyes of the council upon him, especially the eyes of Doj’Owa, the supreme cleric of the Temple of Doj and the spiritual leader of the M’Uktah. Her golden yellow eyes, much the color of U’Vol’s, shone bright and clear, her pupils narrow oblong slits. If he had not been denuded, his hair would be standing on end from the discomfort she caused him. Her stare made the skin on U’Vol’s back ripple over his spine.

Vrath nodded once to Doj’Owa. She rose and opened her arms out to the sides, creating a half circle of shining black silky robes around her. All dozen council members present, save for the Lij, rose from their chairs and knelt. Doj’Owa closed her eyes and chanted the prayer to Doj that was customary at the beginning of council meetings and public gatherings.

There were no cushions or mats in the council chambers. The stone floor was hard beneath his meaty knees. After more than ten minutes of chanting, U’Vol suspected that Doj’Owa had drawn out the prayer that day as a subtle punishment to U’Vol for being there. She had never liked him, though why he could not be certain. U’Vol figured that the most likely answer was that she held him in ill regard simply because he had the favor of Vrath and thus held influence with the Lij. As far as U’Vol could see, Doj’Owa preferred that no one save herself hold sway with the Lij.

Finally she chanted the end of the prayer and gave the signal that they should rise. They all muttered the final words, “Blessed is the Doj Madi,” and sat again.

The Lij broke the silence that had engulfed them after the prayer. “U’Baht, you have requested this special session of the council. Please, honor us with your concerns.”

U’Baht was the Vree class representative to the council and U’Vol’s mentor and friend. U’Baht had served with U’Vol’s father when they secured Navimbi outpost and had watched over U’Vol after his father died.

U’Baht was nearly a hundred years older than U’Vol. Even though he was now bent with age and the arthritis customary among elderly Vree’Kah, he was still lofty compared to most M’Uktah. He rose, bowed to the Lij, gave a perfunctory head bow to Doj’Owa, then began his plea. “Many blessings to our Lij and esteemed council for honoring my petition this day. I have previously stated my concerns about the hunting expedition scheduled for the
Dra’Knar
during the next occurrence of the Mocht Bogha.”

“We heard and denied your plea in the matter,” Doj’Owa said. She spoke to U’Baht but kept her eyes on U’Vol.

U’Baht cleared his throat. “Yes, thank you for the reminder of that outcome, esteemed Doj’Owa.”

“The Mocht Bogha will occur in only three days, U’Baht. It is no time to hang on false courtesies,” Doj’Owa said. “State your business plainly.”

Despite U’Baht’s thick covering of dark, black beard and sideburns, his face colored red. He shifted and shuffled his feet.

U’Vol rose. His size and authoritative air commanded their attention away from U’Baht. “Esteemed council, you all know me well. You know that the old blood of our great Vree hunters runs through my veins. More than any of you, my mouth hungers for the taste of fresh meat. I have been home long now and I yearn to step inside my krindor and feel it meld to my skin.” Just speaking of it made U’Vol’s pulse quicken. “But U’Baht’s concerns about this expedition are valid ones. Throughout our venerated history, we have preyed upon the fowl of Ghapta and the great hairy beasts of Navimbi. And we farmed only primitive, godless hominids.”

“You state the past well,” Doj’Owa said. “And this council’s opinion is that this planet the local dominant species calls Earth falls well within the precedent of conquest imparted by our forefathers.”

U’Vol stared at her evenly. “No. It does not.”

A few council members gasped. It was as uncommon to speak so directly to the high cleric as it was to eat a meal without meat.

Doj’Owa did not flinch. Her eyes remained fixed on U’Vol, her pupils gone from thin slits to wide, black and angry.

U’Vol continued. “It is true that Sarhi are less advanced than the M’Uktah. Scouts report various states of warring and aggression throughout all regions.”

Several of the council members lightly rapped the table with the palm-sized worn stones that each had in front of him. It was a show of agreement with what was being said and as old a custom as the M’Uktah culture.

U’Vol put up his hand. “Despite their aggression toward each other, they have demonstrated significant technology. Satellite communications. A rudimentary understanding of particle physics. Intercontinental travel and rocketry. Yes, it is crude space travel, yet still, the species has harvested the atom’s energy. None of you can deny that Sarhi are the most technologically advanced species we have undertaken to harvest.”

The same council members that had rapped their stones now bellowed their disagreement, as was also custom. U’Vol had expected some council members to raise their voices against him. He was not deterred.

Doj’Owa raised her hand this time. “Does our great hunter U’Vol fear he will be unable to subdue and conquer these primitive Sarhi?” Her thin upper lip curled up at the corner and her nose twitched at him. It was a clear signal of her disgust, a sign most civilized M’Uktah kept in check at such an event as a council meeting.

The sneer got to U’Vol at a primal level. His lip too curled into a sneer and a low snarl escaped his lips.

Vrath rose and beat his cane on the marble floor. The sound echoed off the cavernous, high stone walls of the council chamber. The Lij did not need to speak. Pounding his cane was a clear message to back down.

Doj’Owa sat and composed her face into a picture of calm. U’Vol too forced his mouth out of its sneer and bowed politely to Doj’Owa, a signal that he was respectful of her opinions.

U’Vol pulled himself up to his fullest height and squared his shoulders, making his chest as wide as it could become. “Perhaps only U’Baht will understand me when I say this: Of course I have fear. All Vree’Kah are afraid every time we touch foot on a new planet full of unknown dangers and untold hostilities toward us. It is not cowardice to admit fear.” U’Vol looked directly into Doj’Owa’s eyes as he said it. “Vree’Kah thrive on our fear of the unknown. If we chose to deny ourselves the thrill of the hunt, we would never leave the planet, and our children – as well as yours – would die of starvation.”

A thunderous round of stone rapping erupted. The applause emboldened U’Vol.

U’Vol held up his meaty hand and the tapping died down. “But know this, esteemed council. There is a thin line between bravery and foolhardiness. The Sarhi have technology that we have not encountered in prior hunts. They have the capacity to present formidable challenges to harvesting. They are highly organized with advanced, planet-wide communication systems.”

“Yet they war with each other,” Councilman U’Jzheng said.

“True,” U’Baht said. “But aggression from a global threat may unite them. They are nearly nine billion strong. If organized –”

“Nine
billion
?” U’Jzheng asked.

A few rapped their stones, urging U’Jzheng on.

“All the more reason to harvest,” U’Jzheng said. “This plentiful resource will meet the needs of our people not only for our children, but for our children’s children.”