The Wolf and the Centaur (RF VIII), Chapter 15 Part 1

Spoiler alert: This is the work-in-progress of the 8th book in the Reckless Faith series. You may read the prologue here: https://devonai.wordpress.com/2023/10/31/reckless-faith-viii-prologue/

The Sul Chateau was an opulent and historic resort, and a favorite of Malthus Brewer during his past life as a free man. He sat on a veranda overlooking a sparkling lake, flanked on three sides by terraced green mountains. To the west, where the body of water spilled itself over an ancient dam and cascaded into what would eventually become a mighty river, the sun was setting. The brick patio, cut off from the lake by a squat stone wall, was almost empty, despite stools, tables, and lounge chairs sufficient for dozens of people. Only one man accompanied him that afternoon, a Kau’Rii by the name of Chason Talyn, who Malthus considered a friend.

A plate of fried crustaceans rested on the table nearby, and in his hand, he held a tall glass of beer. His feet up on a plastic ottoman, he took a deep breath, taking in the heady aroma of both the food and his beverage. A sip of the latter confirmed that it was the best top-fermented variety he’d ever had, and he reveled in the moment. Still, despite all the perfection that surrounded him, Malthus knew that something wasn’t right. He turned to his companion, the feline seemingly enrapt by the sunset, his eyes reflecting the glittering whitecaps on the water that had been kicked up by a gentle breeze.

“This isn’t real,” Malthus said.

“It’s as real as you want it to be,” replied Chason, his gaze fixed ahead. “This instant can last forever, if you want it to. My kind has a rather fluid sense of what you corporeal beings call time.”

Malthus chugged the rest of his glass. Normally not an amount of alcohol that would have affected him, he instead felt it quickly go to his head. By the time he set the empty vessel on the table, another full one had replaced it, a small trickle of foam escaping from the rim. A sense of calm came over him, the sensation so palpable that he wondered if he hadn’t died. As if taunting him, recent memories clawed at the back of his mind. As much as he would have liked to stay here forever, that wasn’t why he was here. Indeed, he knew that the being that inhabited the form of Chason wasn’t his friend at all. Though it pained him to utter the truth, it was inevitable.

“Kheiron.”

“Yes.”

“I hope you’ve brought me here in order to answer questions. Because I’ve got a lot of them, as do my allies from Terra.”

“I could have answered them in the Tartarian’s temple, but you might not have believed me.”

“Maybe not.” Malthus took a bite of the food, which was better than anything he’d ever tasted in his life. “Oh my god. If you’re trying to convince me, stop; you’ve done enough. Any more of this would be torture by some standards. Assuming that you’re about to do an info-dump, go ahead. Whatever you have to say had better be awfully compelling if you expect me to go back to my body.”

“Sixty of your years ago, Tartarus was an unspoiled paradise…”

“I knew it.”

“The origins of life here are uncertain, but they almost certainly came from the same amino acid precursors that seeded most developed worlds, and as science would later prove, the same genetic stock that would become both Alnairians and Tartarians. While they developed at different rates, they are inextricably linked. With the advent of practical space travel within their own solar system, the Alnairians inevitably sought to exploit the natural resources of Tartarus. That included the construction of a research facility here.”

“Toward what end?”

“Before the discovery of true FTL technology, the Alnairians calculated that they could fling unmanned probes to nearly light speed, by using what you would call a slingshot method, with Tartarus being the sling. The only problem is that the original position of the planet wasn’t ideal for such a maneuver. The goal was to move it ten percent closer to their star, but first, they had to unlock secrets of subatomic particles that you and I would consider rather pedestrian by comparison.”

“What? Speak for yourself, I’m hardly a genius.”

“By stripping away neutrons from the heavier atoms that made up the mass of the planet, they hoped to lighten it and alter its orbit. Discovering anti-neutrons that could do so, and how to emit them, was the first purpose of this facility.”

“Wait a minute. If the initial goal was to understand and control subatomic particles, why not start with a similar facility on Alnair?”

“Because it was feared an accident would ruin Alnair’s atmosphere. Better to experiment elsewhere. Unfortunately, the natives on Tartarus didn’t have a say. Still, it was never the intention to make the entire planet uninhabitable; however, that’s exactly what happened. The Alnairians succeeded in altering the mass of the planet, and simultaneously caused an unstoppable chain reaction in the atmosphere. Over a matter of months, a critical percentage of nitrogen was converted to highly-ionized carbon. Instantly binding with oxygen to form carbon dioxide, the atmosphere was doomed to heat up far beyond what life could support. By the time they realized what was happening, they were powerless to stop it.”

“And the natives, they ended up down here?”

“A few hundred were allowed to flee below ground here. Several hundred more were evacuated to Alnair, though tragically, there weren’t enough ships to save them all. Almost four million native Tartarians perished over the next three years, through starvation, exposure, and ultimately, suffocation.”

“That’s horrific. I can assure you, the average Alnairian alive today has no idea any of this ever happened. In fact, we’re all taught that Tartarus has been the way it is now for billions of years. As for the prison, I was a child when I learned that a prison was being built here, not knowing, of course, that my indiscretions would send me there years later. If the government was trying to keep their criminal acts a secret, it seems awfully reckless for them to put a prison right on top of their super-secret research facility.”

“It would seem so. Even I don’t know their reasoning, beyond speculation.”

“That’s all a fascinating preamble, Kheiron, but you haven’t mentioned a word about how you know all this, or what your involvement was.”

“I was their chief scientist, of course. The Alnairians never would have discovered how to isolate, study, and generate anti-neutrinos without me. What they didn’t know then, though they probably know now, was that it was only by virtue of my Kira’To heritage that I could perform those tasks, drawing on the power of the True Nature to generate the energy necessary.”

“Let me guess. Despite your contributions, they imprisoned you here, to keep their secrets?”

Chason-Kheiron scoffed, showing the first real emotion since the beginning of the conversation. “Ha! No, they had no power to hold me. I stayed here by choice, splitting my time between the prison and helping the Tartarians in this cavern survive. My telepathy allowed me to make the warden, guards, and other inmates believe that I was a prisoner, as well as convince the Tartarians that I was on their side. I consider it the least I could do, since I was directly responsible for ruining their planet.”

“What about evacuating them, you never tried to make that happen?”

“Part of my reason for pretending to be an inmate was to explore how I might accomplish that. Unfortunately, it seemed impossible – even for me – to do without significant outside assistance.”

“You couldn’t ask your fellow Kira’To? Aren’t you all telepathically linked, or is that just a myth?”

The sun had set behind the dam, replacing the brilliant glow with incandescent clouds of pink and orange. Kheiron considered the questions for a few seconds. Malthus used the time to gratefully crunch down on what was on his plate. His companion then replied, scornfully.

“We are, but I am a pariah. It is frowned upon to assist corporeal beings as directly as I did. I also think I can anticipate your next question. I had nothing to do with the arrival of the Terrans, or their abortive attempt to rescue Chason Talyn, though I could sense someone was coming for him. Now that you’re here, however, and since you have a Sortarius among your ranks, I think you may be willing to evacuate the Tartarians as well.”

“A Sortarius? I don’t know what that is.”

“The one known as Evangeline Adeler. If she hasn’t told you about the Sortarii, then I will not be the one to do so.”

“How many Tartarians are down here?”

“Three hundred and twenty-three.”

“I don’t think any of their ships are large enough to accommodate that number. But I can ask.”

“Very well. I will return you to your body.”

Malthus stood up, a bit unsteadily. “Wait! One more question. Why is it, after all this time, did the Alnairians decide to wipe out the prison? Why send marines, only to abandon them and replace them with assassins?”

“That’s two questions. To the first, I can only guess. The Alnairians knew nothing of the Kira’To when I arrived here all those decades ago, but have since had frequent contact with the galactic community. Someone at the top must have realized the true threat I could pose, if I was so inclined, and my presence here – and by extension the entire prison – could no longer be tolerated. If they wanted to keep their act of near-genocide a secret, that is. To the second, since most of Alnair’s government is not composed of murderers, the soldiers they sent first were probably part of a genuine effort to capture me without harming anyone else. Unfortunately for them, another decision was soon made. One that doomed everyone, including their own troops.”

“Are you suggesting the arrival of the Terrans was a total coincidence?”

“There is no such thing. I simply don’t know what the connection could be. I have told you everything you need…”

The world went black. Malthus blinked his eyes, and found himself on the floor of the temple. Someone had propped his head up with their rucksack, and put a blanket over him. Ray stood over him, and Malthus realized that Ray had just pinched him, hard, on his left buttock.

“Hey, I wasn’t…”

“Can you walk?” asked Ray urgently. “We’ve got to get out of here, now.”

Taking stock of his surroundings, Malthus could see that all of the Tartarians that had accompanied them into the temple were gone. Evangeline was roughly shoving Kheiron toward the exit, and frantic shouts in an unknown language could be heard from outside.

“What the hell is going on?”

“Someone opened up the valves to the reservoir,” said Ray, all put pulling Malthus to his feet. “The cavern is filling up, fast.”

“Oh my god.”

Christie stood at the door, PDA in hand. “We’ve got to hurry. At this rate, the entire place is going to be flooded within minutes.”

Malthus grabbed his borrowed carbine. “We’ve fools for thinking there were no more Tenchiik.”

“We don’t know who did this,” said Eva.

The team, along with a reluctant Kheiron, emerged into the cavern. The sound of rushing water was almost overwhelming. Glancing below, Malthus noticed that the fog that had blanketed the lower levels had dissipated and, even at that distance, he could see the water rising. All around them, Tartarians were desperately climbing rope ladders, some with infants slung across their chests, or children clinging to their backs. As they moved to the nearest ladder, he could see that the water wasn’t just increasing in depth, but also moving in a swift current from west to east. The cries of a few natives caught up in the cascade could just barely be heard over the din of the torrent. Malthus watched in horror as people were swept away.

“Go, go, go,” shouted Ray.

Though there were a limited number of ladders, the Tartarians not immediately caught up in the flood showed remarkable strength and speed as they ascended. Fast on their heels, Malthus and his friends managed to find room for themselves, and keep pace. The only straggler was Kheiron, who seemed to require constant urging to stay with them. Eva was clearly growing frustrated with his lack of motivation.

“God damn it,” she spat. “Do you want to fucking die, Kira’To?”

Kheiron didn’t reply, instead pausing on the next outcropping. The water was so close at that point that his prison uniform began to get wet from the spray.

“Leave him if he doesn’t care to save himself,” said Chason.

Malthus was just fine with that idea. Over the next few minutes, the team, along with a couple hundred natives, made their way to the top of the cavern. It wasn’t until they were waiting to cross the rope bridge, that he noticed his arms were burning. A profound feeling of exhaustion hit his whole body, tempering the panic that he felt at the delay across the bridge. Fortunately for those still breathing air, the water stopped rising, though the cross-current remained strong. Disturbingly, the cries of those caught in the deluge had ceased. Chason managed to push through the crowd, and he accessed the control panel to the cavern.

“The circuits have been ripped out,” he told the others.

“I think the water level has stabilized,” said Christie. “There must be overflow outlets.”

“I’m sure that’s of little comfort to those that have drowned,” replied Ray. “Come on, we’ve got to try to get ahead of everyone. If there’s any of the enemy left, these people will be defenseless.”

At Ray’s urging, the team pushed past those in the stairwell, making no apologies for their brusqueness. The nearly crushing throng of bodies continued into Sub-Level Four, further delaying them, and it wasn’t until they ascended one more level that there was enough room for them to maneuver tactically. At that point, Christie was trying via radio to raise either John’s team or the Reckless Faith. So far, no one had replied. Since the others could hear her attempts, she didn’t have to explain what was happening.

“I don’t know if we’ve been cut off, or if they’re too busy to respond, or what,” she said.

“Let’s worry about clearing these areas again,” said Ray. “If there is at least one more Tenchiik, we’ve got to deal with it before we can move the survivors to the prison levels.”

“We didn’t clear the labs again,” said Eva. “Also, we’ve lost sight of Kheiron.”

“Damn it, you’re right. Shit. What do you want to do?”

“I’ll go back. The rest of you, focus on clearing this level and the ones above. Assuming that most of the Tartarians have survived, they’re going to need the space to spread out.”

“They’ll probably out-pace us, but we’ll do our best. Good luck.”

Eva disappeared back into the throngs of locals, shoulder-checking a few of them as she went. Fortunately for everyone, their blind panic from earlier had faded into confusion and bewilderment about their new surroundings. This allowed Malthus and his friends to clear Sub-Level 3 without too much difficulty. By the time they ascended to the next level, there were already dozens of Tartarians milling around. They continued in this manner until they arrived at the door to the laundry room. For the moment, they were alone. Malthus spoke.

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea to let those people into the prison right now. As I mentioned, there are a whole lot of mangled corpses beyond this door.”

“Are you suggesting we forcibly keep them down here?” asked Christie.

“For now, yes. Obviously, the prison is a better place for them to wait, but we should get it cleaned up first. Though I know that seems like an impossible task for just the five of us.”

“Maybe the Faith can transport the bodies away,” said Ray.

“We’re way too far underground for that.”

“Right. Well, we’ll try to figure something out. The first thing we need to do is reestablish contact with the Faith. Next, since I’m really not confident there aren’t more bad guys down here with us, we should split up and post one of us at the entrance to the stairwell on each floor. That way, if we do have contact, we can call for backup and try to preserve as many Tartarian lives as possible. Hopefully we can get reinforcements from the Faith back ASAP, and try to keep everyone safe and calm in the meantime.”

“I agree, it’s the best we can do for now.”

“Chason? Malthus?”

“I don’t have a better idea,” said Chason.

“Sounds good to me,” added Malthus.

Ray nodded. “Okay. Also, can any of you understand the Tartarians? My translator isn’t even attempting to decipher their language.”

“Nope.”

“Not a clue,” said Chason.

“Same here,” began Christie, “but it’s not surprising. We’re cut off from the ship; translating an unusual or unique language isn’t something that can be accomplished by the resident software in your earpieces, nor by my OS. Given enough time I might be able to figure it out. I mean, we haven’t even attempted to talk to any of the natives, other than to shout warnings at them.”

“True,” replied Ray. “Alright, we’ll just have to try our best and keep them calm.”

“I think simply not shooting them or trying to drown them will probably go a long way,” said Malthus. “Plus, most of them saw us scrambling to escape the cavern, too. I doubt they think we’re responsible for flooding it.”

“Let’s hope not. Come on, let’s get this door secured and get on with the plan.”

Continue reading: https://devonai.wordpress.com/2024/03/05/the-wolf-and-the-centaur-rfviii-chapter-15-part-2/