Zein: The Homecoming (13 page)

Tyson was shocked; the fear he felt emanating from the beasts was overwhelming. It was driving them on insanely in their attack.
Why are they so scared?
he thought.

Good
question, Tyson, I feel it as well
, Kabel echoed in his mind as his two seckles cut deeply into a Pod in front of him.

And I,
thought Belina.

Now was not the time for deliberation. Kabel joined his brother, along with Amelia and Gemma. Bronstorm and Hechkle went to help the civilians in Groups Four and Five, who had lost the majority of their troopers. The roofs of the buildings were full of the beasts. Tyson saw in the disappearing light that there was a sea of blue in every direction. Sweat ran down his face as the intensity of battle increased.

‘General Corder, Sir, what should I do?’ said Lieutenant Michaels. The messages for support came thick and fast, yet General Corder still hesitated. The crew listened with horror to the cries for help, casting angry glances at their commander. It was only when Admiral Koshkov burst into the Command and Control Centre with a face like thunder that he acted.

‘Launch ten Cobras, Lieutenant, immediately,’ General Corder ordered, his uncertainty gone. Koshkov glared at Corder but did not say anything; there would be time for that later.

Gemma and Belina were using every martial art move they could muster. Tyson marvelled on how Gemma, who reached only to Belina’s shoulder, took on the beasts that dwarfed her. She didn’t flinch and her face was full of concentration as she spun round and used a roundhouse kick to propel one of the creatures off the top of the APC.

On the ground, Walter Moore had picked up a photon shotgun and with a wild look of fear in his eyes blasted anything that came into his radius.

‘Well, bro, at least you have seen your home planet,’ said Tyson, standing back to back with Kabel. His brother could only grunt as the exertion of the defence was taking its toll.

Gemma disposed of another attacker below him, at the side of the APC that caught Tyson’s eye.
God, you look sexy,
he said telepathically, shading his thought from Kabel.

You are only human, well sort of
, she retorted, with barely a smile. This was no time to inform him that she had moved on. The interplay was then disrupted as both dispatched another two attackers.

Neither saw that Amelia had caught the glance as she fired unerringly at the mass of creatures before her. Her stomach churned with jealousy and drove her to defend with increased vigour, driven by her rage. Tyson picked up the increased intensity of her emotions and her less than pleasant thoughts of Gemma. He decided to ignore them and focused on the task at hand, knowing he had to sort out his feelings for the two girls’ once and for all.

Kabel was worried. They had lost one of the levitation tanks at the back of the convoy when a number of the Pod had collapsed a building onto the top of it, crushing and burying the men.

Amelia was at the side of the APC and was so intent in picking off any Pod approaching her that she didn’t notice that she had become separated from Gemma. A sixth sense made her turn round and it was only then that she realised that she was alone on this side of the APC, with Gemma moving to the front of the vehicle. Her second mistake was in taking her attention away from the Pod. A claw crashed into her gun and it fell to the ground smashed to bits. The giant male Pod then grabbed her arm and pulled her into an alleyway.

‘Tyson, help me,’ she cried. Tyson saw Amelia being dragged off and with a leap jumped of the APC, closing the distance between them. With a flash of his seckle he cut through the hairy blue arm holding her and the limp remainder of the arm lost its grip and fell away from
Amelia. The Pod gave a great squeal of pain. Tyson put the creature out of its misery.

‘Run back to the vehicle,’ he said, monitoring closely the other creatures converging on them. Amelia didn’t need to be asked twice. She set off and ran with her head down. Tyson began working his way with backward steps down the alleyway, picking off any Pod with his blaster.

At that moment, when all hope was disappearing, suddenly explosions on either side of the convoy cleared their nearest attackers. Kabel looked up and saw
Elanda
’s fixed wing aircraft. Wave after wave of Cobras launched a devastating non-nuclear payload from their propulsion cones, followed by deathly rounds from their photon machine guns. All around the survivors of the expedition there were cries of fear from the Pod and many died. Huge explosions blew the buildings around the alleyway which Tyson was desperately trying to exit.

‘Run, Tyson, run!’ shouted Kabel. Amelia turned around and looked down the alleyway. Tyson, with his bright blue shield flaring, was running towards the entrance of the alley. The buildings either side of him shook with the explosions and then came tumbling down on top of Tyson, burying him.

‘Tyson!’ Amelia cried at the top of her lungs and started to run back but Bailey grabbed her and held her. Amelia fought against Bailey’s grip, to no avail. The explosions continued throwing up sheets of dust and shrapnel.

‘Amelia, into the vehicle, it’s too dangerous,’ said Bailey, as Hechkle came across to help him bundle the struggling girl into safety. Bronstorm was not far behind, panting from the fighting. He peered into the gloom and saw a mountain of debris where Tyson had stood. He looked up at Kabel and shook his head. Kabel swore.

The Pod retreated, disappearing with their injured, just as quickly as they had appeared. Soon the only sound was the crackle of fires ignited by the bombing and the cries of the injured convoy personnel.

It took them sometime to move the AVS out of the way and unblock the rubble strewn road. Reinforcements were sent from the
Elanda
by General Corder, to provide cover. They again checked the area where Tyson had been standing and the amount of rubble made it impossible for them to find him. Reluctantly, Kabel gave the order for the remaining vehicles, three levitation tanks and four remaining APCs, to limp into the safety of the perimeter as the deep gloom of night descended. The friends were all distressed and Kabel vowed they would go back in the morning with heavy lifting equipment to see if they could retrieve Tyson’s body. He was in no mood to lose another brother.

Of the seventy-two members of the expedition, forty three survived. Shattered and with heavy hearts the remaining members sought the security of their quarters. Amelia had ignored all attempts by the rest of the group to comfort her and left those looking after her, soulfully making her way to her room.

Later, there was a knock on her door. Amelia ignored it. She didn’t feel like talking to anyone. Tyson was gone. He had given his life for hers. She could never forgive herself. The knocking on the door was persistent and anger flared up within her. She pulled herself from the bed, wiped her tears away on her sleeve and stormed to the door, ready to give whoever was there a mouthful. The door slid back.

Any angry remark was struck from her vocabulary. Standing in front of her was an equally distraught Bailey. His eyes were rimmed red where the tears had come thick and fast. Amelia stepped back and he shuffled in and
simply stood in the middle of the room with a hopeless look. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him and with a glazed look he slowly placed his arms around her. They didn’t know how long they stood there before Bailey left, for each was wrapped up in their own memories of a person whom they loved deeply.

Tate stumbled back down the shaft where they had entered Reinan. This was their main secret entry point from the Aeria Cavern, which provided a secure way to salvage any materials or stores in the hastily abandoned capital city. The entrance was purposely made to look like one of the Pod entrance points when they invaded the city all those years ago. Tate had been a young boy when the city was attacked by the Pod. That night had left him scarred. His father had woken him from a deep sleep in the Malacca Royal Palace and they and the rest of his family had fled to the basement where their escape hatch to the Aeria Cavern was. As they rushed into the room the Pod crashed through the impressive front door, cutting through the few troops left to guard the building, with the majority sent to fight a rear guard retreat outside the city, some two termins away but the speed of the fall back had come as a shock to both the soldiers and the Reinan population. The blaring alarm telling them all was lost. Those who were not wealthy and did not have their own escape hatch were forced to make their way to the Transportation or Royal Council buildings through the dangerous streets. Many did not make it… men, women and children cut down by the creatures,
hell bent on annihilation. Tate still remembered the screams of the guards and from those unfortunate enough to be outside as his family made it through their escape hatch…he didn’t stop shaking for days after and it was then he vowed, if he became a soldier, he would look after every man, woman and child irrespective of wealth.

He turned his attention back to the tunnel. After the strategically placed foot and hand holds dug into the soil of the hole, further down there was a steel hatch requiring a passcode to enter. The steel hatch was the beginning of a long chute-like tunnel with rungs inside attached to ultra-thick zinithium strengthened steel. The chute entered the main tunnel near the South Gate entrance. The rest of the party of six climbed down with their plunder and dropped into the tunnel.

Tate was still in shock. The others had already begun descending when the noise outside stopped them, they were caught in two minds, not wanting to be out in the dark with the roaming Pod to deal with but intrigued by the noise. They had heard the vehicles and all could not resist taking a look out of the broken windows. They were initially shocked at seeing the heavily armoured invaders. This was how they viewed the convoy, as invaders, which is what they thought they were at first. It was only when they saw the troops and civilians approach the Royal Council building that they realised that this pre-conception was not altogether right.

‘Look, that is a Blackstone,’ said Kron, pointing to the tall figure at the front of the soldiers.

‘Yes, and Fathom and Malacca troops as well,’ said Tate, ‘but who are they?’ He pointed to some of the figures that didn’t tally with the usual characteristics of the five clans. His eyes fastened on two young women who were chatting
with one of the men who seemed to be related to the girl with spiky black hair. He then saw her.

Belina was checking her shotgun with her gaze focused downwards. She then looked at and laughed with the man who was standing with the other two females. Tate could see that they were close. It was when her head turned and looked at the Grand Zein Central Transportation hub that Tate had seen her face clearly: it was one of the most beautiful faces he had ever seen. He carefully retreated slightly to prevent her from spotting him peering from the cracks in the broken windows.

When the invaders decided to shift their attention to the building he was in, Tate decided that it was time to go. He saw the light diminishing and hoped that these strangers knew the risk they were taking. No one stayed out after dusk if they wanted to stay alive. They were just in the process of exiting the building when Tate was spotted by one of the men, an unusual man. He saw the tell-tale Blackstone blue eyes but this was no Blackstone. His magics smelt danger, conflicting magics within the blood of this man. He was young but there was an edge to him. Tate had seen many things in the last few years, fought many battles, faced incredible odds, yet he felt the hairs on the back of his head and on his arms stand up. He felt fear.

He hurriedly climbed down the shaft and joined the team in the tunnel. ‘Kron, call an emergency session of the Inner Council,’ he commanded as he hurried along the tunnel. Kron saluted and ran ahead to do his master’s bidding. Tate removed his pack and outer armour when he reached the Inner Council building. He poured himself a glass of water and thought what the arrival of the invaders meant. It was obvious that this must be the returning Expeditionary Force as he had seen Zeinonians, but who were the strange race with them? They looked
very similar to Zeinonians but there was enough difference for him to identify that they were an alien race.

Members of the Inner Council were beginning to arrive. He could see the puzzlement on their faces over a request for a meeting with such short notice. He had sworn his squad to remain tight lipped on what they had seen. They were his most experienced men and he could trust them. Safah Blackstone arrived with Eben Southgate, both whispering conspiratorially. No Jaida Blackstone and no Taio Southgate. Both had volunteered to accompany Myolon to the Pod breeding grounds and the placement of the deadly serum into the underground reservoir. The group was fifteen strong, any larger and it would be difficult to move without detection. They all carried personal cloaking devices which hid them from easy detection but this would matter not if the Pod were near to their position. The rest of the group was made up of two soldiers from each clan and the Changelings. Jaida had been placed in charge.

Quinlan walked in with his daughter, Brisis. After the performance by Kingsley, in the last Inner Council, Quinlan was erring on the side of caution. Brisis was a strong woman of some thirty years, plain but honest and hardworking. Tate liked her. As they took their seats there was a gasp.

Heathlon, High Priestess of Zein, and the Changelings had just entered the room.

It was rare to see her at this forum and only Tate and Safah had access to her quarters. Others were strictly kept away. People tried to guess what age she was but it was so difficult to gauge the age of a changeling. Some said she was nearly one thousand years old. Her face, although lined, was surprisingly still relatively young looking, however, the Changelings were the experts in camouflage.
A hush fell on the room as she sat down in Myolon’s seat. Surrounding her were six unyielding warriors, eyes flicking around the room to identify any threat to the woman they called “Mother of Life”.

Tate cleared his throat, uncharacteristically nervous. Heathlon’s eyes stared at him without blinking, seemingly measuring his courage and wisdom. ‘Greetings, your Excellency.’ Tate bowed to Heathlon, who raised her delicate right hand and acknowledged the recognition. ‘And to you your worshipful Elders,’ he concluded his salutation to the rest of the clans. ‘First I would like to thank you for attending this emergency Inner Council meeting at such short notice.’

‘No proper notice and you drag us here at this late hour, ridiculous,’ Eben fumed, he was grumpy from being woken up from his much needed late afternoon sleep. Even Safah raised her eyebrows in frustration at her peer. It looked like the grandfather had replaced the grandson’s stupidity.

‘Eben, that’s why it’s called an
emergency
meeting,’ said Brisis, sarcastically. Tate laughed inwardly as Eben squirmed under the steely gaze of the Tyther princess.

‘Quite so,’ said Tate, earning a glare from the old Lord Southgate. Tate again cleared his throat as he felt the displeasure seeping out of every pore of Heathlon; she hadn’t come here to watch minor bickering. Heathlon had sensed a change within Zein’s balance of power. She could detect subtle changes in the shift of the magics and the power they brought. This afternoon that shift had not been subtle but more like a sledgehammer, a tool which at the moment, she would gladly ask one of her guards to take to Eben’s head.

‘This afternoon we saw invaders in our capital city,’ said Tate, calculating what would be the reaction around the
room. He was not disappointed. There was fear, wonder and then questions began to rain in, tumbling over each other. Tate held up his hand and the noise subsided. ‘Please, one question at a time.’

‘Who are they?’ said Quinlan, before anyone else could get in the obvious question. Tate steadied himself ahead of his next words; this was going to have a major impact.

‘I am pretty certain it was the Zein Inter-Galactic Expeditionary Force returning. They were accompanied by an alien race we have not seen before, similar to us but apart from one individual, no magics,’ said Tate. He may have well set off a bomb. Everyone was on their feet. Questions came thick and fast.
So much for one question at a time
, he thought.

How many of them?

Are they here to save us?

Will the aliens attack us?

Tate held his hand up and called for calm but it was the regal voice of Heathlon that cut through the babble.

‘Fellow Zeinonians, I for one would like to hear everything that Lord Malacca saw, wouldn’t you?’ The noise subsided,

The members of the Inner Council sat down and waited for Tate to speak. He told them what he had witnessed; the convoy, the mixture of clans and alien race and the sophisticated weaponry. It was when he started to explain and describe the individuals, especially the tall Blackstone man and the alien he had seen last, that he saw Safah and Eben learn forward with their interest truly engaged. Tate finished his briefing and leaned back into the throne.

‘They obviously do not know about the Pods’ nocturnal habits or they would have left well within daylight,’ said Quinlan, stroking his chin in thought.

‘If it is true that a royal from the Blackstone clan has returned, will they not have the sole right to your throne?’
said Eben, pointing out the basis of Zein Law. Safah had forfeited her right three years ago when the Blackstones transgressed by storing zinithium in their enclave. Up to that point Safah had been a reluctant Lady Chancellor after her husband, Ricken Blackstone, had died in a Pod attack. Jaida had abdicated her right. She had no interest in holding such a responsible position.

‘Why you…’ said Kron, stepping forward menacingly.

‘Hold it Kron, Eben is right that if they are part of the royal bloodline then I will relinquish this throne to their care,’ replied Tate.

‘Now don’t you be too quick, Lord Chancellor,’ said Heathlon, as she stood up and moved onto the council floor, ‘We need to be careful. Even if these are our kin they have already shown a lack of knowledge of our ways.’ The other council members listened astounded. For many meetings the Changelings had sat quietly, not becoming involved; now not only had Myolon forced his own agenda but now the High Priestess herself was taking centre stage. She continued, ‘We should send a delegation to the newcomers and seek talks, but let’s not relinquish our safety and the safety of many Zeinonians until we are comfortable that the Pod have been exterminated from this planet.’ The last words were said with fire in her eyes.

Studying the reactions in the room, Tate, knew that they now could not stop the chain of events. The liquidation group sent to the Pod breeding grounds had gone and would carry out their task. Until then he vowed he would not relinquish his position unless it benefited Zein.

The delegation was decided with relative ease. Surprisingly, the Changelings opted not to attend, so when the suns rose in the morning a delegation led by Tate and including Kron, Quinlan, Safah and Eben
headed for the surface. They were supported by fifty of the toughest soldiers from all the clans. Today history was to be made.

The moulded hard rock that made her impressive throne rested easily against her back. The throne arched up to the ceiling of the deep cavern. It started narrow and then curved outwards until it touched the surrounding two walls. The walls themselves held basins which tar burned in to provide light, although they needed little light. They had grown as a species used to the solitude of the darkness over centuries. They were an old tribe, born when the planet was born, at one with the earth and elements. Theirs had been a simple life once; now those days had passed.

Festilion, the Queen of the Pod, High Priestess of Zein, leaned forward to take the report of her oldest son. She had many sons and daughters as she was the queen who gave birth to the many and not the few. Her brood in turn gave birth, albeit not as readily as she did. She had many suitors, brave warriors who fathered her children. It was this way that saved them from the evil before. Evolution at its best.

She observed her son move slowly across the room.
You are carrying a wound, my son?
She passed her thought silently, carefully blocking it from the others assembled in the Great Hall. He gave a lopsided grin, his incisors looping down his face at one side, blood from the ripped throat of a terrified Blackstone trooper still clinging to the ends,
I moved too slowly my Queen
.