Carnage Page 10
“None.”
“Another dream test manifesting?”
“Those were always when I was asleep, and we got them all. We checked the genetic coding to make sure.”
“Do you sense danger?” Cal-com said in all seriousness as he released Paul’s mind, having run through the conversation his doppelganger had just had with him.
“Not specifically. But I have no idea how that’s even possible.”
“Do Humans have waking dreams?”
“Not this one,” Paul said, looking around and outside the tent, even below and above it, with his senses and finding nothing but the storm outside and the normal contents within. “Show me the tool for the sand.”
Cal-com dug into his pack and pulled out a brush and pan. “Are these what you saw?”
“Exactly. And I’ve never laid eyes on them before.”
“Nor should you. They were sealed up inside the kit when we bought them, and I don’t recall seeing any unbundled ones for sale.”
“What is going on here?” Paul said, freaked out enough that his heart was beating heavier…and for a Saiyan that meant it was absolutely racing.
“There is wisdom in the words. Wisdom that exceeds my own. I had not made all those connections.”
“Neither had I,” Paul said, sitting crosslegged on the ground and not sure how moving would improve the situation. “What the hell just happened?”
“I do not know, but the insights are valuable none the less. When we sleep, we take shifts.”
“I don’t think I’ll be sleeping anytime soon.”
“Yes you will,” Cal-com said, putting his hand back on Paul’s head. “You’re exhausted.”
Paul blinked, then moved his arms and legs around a bit, finally noticing that his body was more than just sore from the walking. He was absolutely drained of energy.
“Ok, now I’m a little scared,” he admitted.
“As am I. Do we stay here and face it, or flee back to the settlement?”
That brought a little steel to Paul’s spine. “Stay. But I have a bad feeling about this.”
“At least your sense of humor is intact.”
Paul huffed, not realizing he’d quoted Han Solo. “I wasn’t trying to be funny,” he said, pulling out one of his armored gauntlets from his pack and sliding it over his right hand, through which he used the regenerator to scan his body and identify the source of his fatigue.
“Grab me some food.”
“What did you find?”
“My cellular energy has been depleted. As much as if I’d taken a 15 hour run and pushed it hard.”
“Do you want your ambrosia?” he asked, referencing what was in Paul’s pack.
“No, I just need food,” he said, taking a Star Force ration bar from Cal-com along with a pouch of crunchy cereal from the local market, which he then began downing rapidly.
“You do not hallucinate calorie loss.”
“I…know,” he said between bites.
“A malfunction in your Saiyan metabolism?”
“I checked…it’s…stable.”
“Most likely an internal manifestation, rather than an exterior intrusion?”
“Telepathy doesn’t deplete cellular energy, but I can’t rule anything out. I have no idea what happened.”
“Was the conversation beneficial to you?”
Paul stopped chewing as he reviewed for a moment. “Yes.”
“Then it either wasn’t random, or a random occurrence triggered a breakthrough that otherwise had eluded you.”
“Still doesn’t…explain how…it happened,” he said, continuing to eat.
“A mystery for us to solve then…amidst the storm.”
“You don’t think that’s random, do you.”
“I do not. But I also have no answers for you.”
“Do a deeper…scan,” Paul said, pointing to his head emphatically as he continued to shove food in his mouth.
10
Paul didn’t get any sleep that night, not that he normally did. An hour, tops, would have been more than enough, but the sense that there was someone else here potentially messing with his mind kept him alert enough he couldn’t have slept if he wanted to. So after spending several hours discussing the situation with Cal-com and his friend being unable to find anything amiss with his mind, Paul stood watch while the Voku got some needed sleep.
By the time he woke the sun had already risen and the storm was past, but still visible on the horizon as it was kicking up enough dust in its wake to say a goodbye to those who had just weathered it as it headed elsewhere on the planet. When Paul came outside the tent he saw a pure blue sky with a hot sun rising in the east and kicking up some weird colors in the dust storm to the south, but by the time they got the tent packed up along with the rest of their supplies the storm was over the horizon and out of view, leaving a tranquil and quickly heating desert with no markings of the trail they had followed here.
The dunes had all shifted, and if it wasn’t for the towers in the distance they would have no visible markers to navigate by.
“Does your fatigue remain?” Cal-com asked as he pulled on his backpack as Paul waited a few steps away with his already on.
“Not sure how much is fatigue and how much is soreness from the sand. You’d think as fit as I am it wouldn’t bother me, but the muscle movements are different enough to find new inefficiencies.”
“You can’t calibrate to everything simultaneously. Does the morning offer any new revelations?”
“Are you real Cal-com or vision Cal-com?” Paul said sarcastically.
“Apparently the vision form is wiser,” he said as they began to walk, with Paul following Cal-com’s lead.
“I still can’t understand how I could see the brush before it happened if it was just a weird dream.”
“That does seem illogical.”
“But if someone was in my head, where are they and what are they?”
“Shall we resume our lack of senses, or do we stay alert?”
“I don’t know where to start, but as long as we’re walking in the broad daylight, let’s just resume the way we were until we have something to scan.”
“This is also an exercise in what to do when you can’t find the solution to something.”
“Meaning I either sit here and think until I figure something out or just blindly move on?”
“Those are the two prevailing strategies,” the Voku said as his foot sunk down up to his knee in a soft dune, tripping him up enough that he fell forward on his hands, pinned in place.
Paul offered his hand for leverage, and helped pull him out stepping backwards as they looked at their navigational options.
“Fine sand,” Cal-com determined. “It must have piled up from the storm. It won’t support our weight.”
Paul slipped off his pack and shuffled his feet around, then jumped straight up into the air several meters before falling back down in the same spot and hunching on landing to cushion his fall.
“The dune is only 12 or so meters wide. Quicker to go across than walk around,” he said, grabbing his pack and throwing it over the crest that was slightly taller than they were.
A moment later Paul jumped again, this time going lateral, and disappeared from view as Cal-com slipped off his pack and threw it over as well, but he knew he couldn’t jump that far.
Instead he laid down on the sand horizontally and parallel with the tract of the dune, wrapping his robe around him tight as he began to roll up the incline slowly, digging in as he did so, but with his weight spread out he was able to stay aloft without sinking in deep.
Inch by inch he crawled up to the peak, then plowed through it until he began rolling freely down the far side until he hit the firmer sand at the bottom. He rolled out of his cocoon and stood up with a twirl of sand coming off his robes, then retrieved his pack from Paul’s waiting hand.
“Jumping is preferred,” he said, a little dizzy but not letting it show in his movements.
“I envy your mobility.”
“There are some psionics that I can’t turn off,” he said in apology. “Kex being one of them. But I liked your technique.”
“I dislike the sand in my collar,” Cal-com said, walking on as he tried to shake some more of it out without using his Lachka.
“Feel free to cheat on that.”
“No. If we are to remain small, we must deal with things in a small manner. Your Kex and Saiyan genetics have become a part of you, not a temporary boost. You must find your smallness within them.”
“Within?”
“You’re not a regular Human, Paul. Just as I am not a Human. I am far larger, so my steps through the sand are easier than yours. But I am ‘small’ in the same way you are despite our differences in race.”
“Small as in no powers, just genetic enhancements?”
“My entire race is a genetic enhancement. Our origins are lost to history. Perhaps the Elders know where we came from, but our biology has been either designed or designed into what it is now. We are stronger, faster, and smarter than most races, but wisdom is not something that can be encoded. The pilot inside charts the course, no matter how many incentives and diversions are involved. When we focus on only our path, in our natural state, we find our smallness. Your natural state is different than that of your birth, and that adjustment is not something I have to make. You must embrace what you have become, else you will always be holding yourself back to find your smallness…and you will fail in doing so.”
“Why would that guarantee failure?”
“Because only the large hold back. The small act with their full potential, and often it is not enough. They survive by luck and wisdom rather than brute force or racial attributes. These are both utilized, but rarely enough to survive.”
Paul looked around at the blankness of the desert, save for the sand ripples and needle-like towers in the distance, and put aside his pertinent mystery for a moment. “You mean we have to be the underdog again?”
“I am unfamiliar with that term.”
“The one who is not dominant.”
“When one is the player versus the environment, the player is never dominant.”
“True. And this fatigue plus the heat is draining me of water. If I run out I’ll be dead unless I can fly out of here.”
“Let the realness of that threat ground your mind. Thoughts of responsibility for others will diminish as you are forced to focus on your immediate needs.”
“My enemies might not be able to kill me in combat, but they can still starve me to death?”
“And only your wisdom will aid you in avoiding such a fate,” Cal-com said, pulling out a water bottle and handing it to Paul, who took a very long swig of it before passing it back.
The two continued to walk, navigating off the towers position, for several hours until they reached an outpost. New Luminance was the name, and most of it was below ground level, making it invisible to those moving across the desert until you came upon it. One moment there were endless sand dunes, and the next you came across the peak of one to see a dug out city some 20 meters deep in the desert with the building tops setting slightly lower than the surrounding dunes.
“There it is,” Paul said, shocked at its sudden arrival. “Why don’t they have some tower or light for navigation?”
Cal-com used his shoulder plates for a moment, mentally linking into his armor systems. “There is a signal beacon, but a visual reference would also be appropriate. The design of the building layout is also inefficient.”
“Yeah, it’s not based on anything we have,” Paul said, following him down to the poured stone edge walkway that had a short railing to keep people from falling off as they stumbled upon the city, though trails of sand already were pouring over the edge.
Paul looked down and saw a pit around the inner edge of the wall, and at the base were piles of sand with little robots scooping it up and removing it at a lethargic pace, but on the other side of the pit was a staired incline that led up to the outer buildings that appeared free of most sand, including the walkways that were also made of poured stone.
“There,” Cal-com said, pointing to his right.
Paul followed the line of his finger to where a bridge was seen descending from the railing at an angle down to level with the sunken ground.
“You want to stay the night or move on?”
“Our purpose lies beyond. We need supplies only, as well as an additional water canister at the minimum.”
“I think I can handle a second pack easy enough,” Paul offered. “Let’s get enough to stay out a few extra days, then get lost in the Sand Sea for a while. If I have another vision I’d prefer to not be around others when it happens.”
“Agreed,” Cal-com said, leading the way down into the outpost that contained several thousand inhabitants, though many were vagrants such as them, searching the stores and restaurants for the luxuries of life while out in the harsh desert. Paul did buy another pack and straps, lashing them together into what looked like a monstrous weight, but when he put it on it didn’t seem to unbalance him, though he was leaning forward a bit more than normal.
After two hours of shopping and a quick stay at an Inn for the use of a shower only, Paul and Cal-com headed back out, heading southeast and into the Sand Sea after crossing another ridge that allowed them to look out at the complete blankness before them from a height of a dozen meters as a bit of rocky outcropping was visible poking out of the endless sand.
“That looks like all soft sand,” Paul noted.
“For as far as I can see, even with enhancement. I do not think anyone else will be out there without a vehicle.”
“Can you see any of them?”
Cal-com did a scan with his visor, picking up something far to the left, with him pointing in the direction.
“One distant object moving, probably on a tract to the High Desert resort on the far side. If we head further to the south we should be where no one else has cause to go.”
“If this is supposed to make me feel small, it’s starting to work. Even flying this seems like it would go on forever.”
“As powerful as you have become, you are still a mere spec compared to a planet.”
“Yet the specs are fighting planet-sized Hadarak,” Paul noted as they just stood and took in the view for a moment.
“With wisdom, not your bodies. The small only become large when applying wisdom, and the wiser they are the greater effect they can have. But they will always be small, though they must envision the perspective of largeness in order to understand it.”
“Like directing a massive space battle and forgetting you are onboard one of the tiny ships?”
“Indeed. But Star Force doesn’t build tiny ships anymore.”
“I got tired of losing them,” Paul scoffed, cupping his hands over his eyes but still unable to see the vehicle Cal-com said was there. “Can you handle the jump down?”
“If you go first to measure the sand depth, yes.”
Without a word Paul hopped off the edge and fell down to the bottom, hitting feet first and toppling over from Cal-com’s point of view, with him being dragged to the ground by the weight of his pack. He slid out of its harness and stood up, walking left and right while dragging his feet in the sand until he found a deeper spot, upon which he drew an ‘X’ with his hand.
“Drop here,” he yelled up.
Cal-com took his pack off and tossed it down, with hit hitting near the X but not exactly on it. He waited until Paul pulled it out of the way before jumping with more accuracy and hitting the spot his friend had designated, with his feet sinking in almost up to his knees before his feet hit rigidity and he toppled over suddenly from the awkwardness of not being able to bend his legs forward at the knees for balance.
“The hard ground isn’t very deep,” Paul said, handing the Voku his pack as he stood up and dumped sand out of the folds in his robe. “I think the sand just moves around on it. That’s probably why
there are no large dunes. It’s too thin to pile up very high.”
“Or too dry,” Cal-com amended. “The air feels different down here.”
“It does. Why is that?”
“I can’t explain it other than altitude,” he said, pulling out the map and touching a small spot to get it to reveal more data.
“Anything there?”
“It suggests the Sand Sea has no water table beneath it. A hard rock platform baking in the sun with no water from above or below.”
“That doesn’t explain the feel change on the edge of it. My skin is being sucked dry.”
“As is mine, and there are no noticeable air currents in play. Shall I check it?”
“Go ahead,” Paul said, giving his friend the go-ahead to cheat and scan it technologically, saving him from having to do it. Right now he felt small and didn’t want to lose the newfound poise.
“Magma beneath us, running along the ridgeline,” Cal-com reported a few seconds later. “Deep enough not to worry about, but the heat from it is causing the air here to rise along the edge, which draws the drier air from further out in and up.”
“So this is what it’s gonna feel like out there all the time,” Paul said, grimacing.
“Shall we choose an alternative destination?”
Paul looked up at the sky, seeing the sun was well into its descent past the apex. “Another type of storm, I guess. Do you want to try traveling at night instead of the day?”
“I am content either way.”
“You’re the one with the dark skin,” Paul pointed out.
“And the superior genetics. My robe conceals me enough, and I require less water than you do. The choice is yours.”
“Superior genetics my ass,” Paul said, walking ahead of him. “Mine come from Zen’zat.”
“Voku were the Elders’ more recent model.”
“I thought that was the Bo’ja?”
“Yours were not meant to reproduce.”
“Ok, you got me there. But we don’t need a visor.”
“Your squinting says otherwise. My race was designed for environmental hardiness. Yours was upgraded from a weak race of Ter’nat. Zen’zat or no, the base coding is in my favor. You sound like you still find pride in your Zen’zat heritage despite your surpassing them greatly. Why is that?”