Chapter 8

Freezing winds howled through a forest of bony black silhouettes. Paul had the keen impression that someone lurked within the dead forest, that there was some unseen force closing in around him, but no matter how much of his powers he exerted, no one could be detected. There was someone there, however; Paul simply knew it. Straining to use his powers again, he picked up something…someone beyond the jagged trees.

“Who’s there?” Paul shouted. “Show yourself!”

Escape from the chilling pressure seemed impossible. Surrounding. Before Paul knew it, he started into a brisk run, stumbling through the darkness and swatting away invisible insects buzzing by his ears. Lights appeared at the edge of the forest: a city miles away, obscured by fog.

“Paul…” a whisper called.

Blue light erupted, meagerly illuminating the area. Paul held his cadami blade at the ready. Again, he concentrated, and by evoking the limits of his powers, he could feel a presence— anger, sadness, the primal urge to kill.

“Paul…” the whisper called again. Cool air wafted against Paul’s face.

Blue light arced aimlessly in vicious blurs across the darkness. In an instant, the presence disappeared, yet Paul remained vigilant. A figure slowly emerged from the shadows. Humanoid, and it wore grotesque black robes that covered any of its discernible features.

Icy chills lashed at Paul’s skin as the robed figure stood perfectly still before him. “I had no choice…” it said in barely a whisper, then it broke from its motionless state and reached out with a bony white hand. Paul reeled back, and then…there was light.

Paul sprang awake gasping for breath, drenched in a cold sweat. Blue lights were flashing and beeping loudly, and a woman’s voice came over the ship’s communications display. “I repeat, starship Intrepid, verify your landing codes, or we will forcefully board you!”

Quickly, Paul pressed the return signal, and still breathing quite heavily, he replied with his clearance codes, hoping he remembered them correctly. The pause that followed seemed to last for minutes.

“Starship Intrepid, you are cleared for landing at the Onesto spaceport, bay eight...next time don’t keep us waiting,” the woman snapped, ending the transmission.

Finally, there was a moment for Paul to catch his breath, and he used it to breathe a sigh of relief. He had dozed off in the copilot seat, apparently for a good while considering the grogginess weighing down his head. Looking out the forward viewport, he could see the great blue and green orb that was Kanchi— he had finally made it. The trip had been a lengthy one; nearly a hundred heavily secured Amani checkpoints had stood between him and the planet, but with Olasqy’s help, they passed through each one without issue.

Where is that man anyway?

He was oddly absent from the pilot’s chair. Probably off cooking, as he so often enjoyed doing. But the entire ship was empty. Paul searched the vessel top to bottom, no Olasqy. The only escape pod was still locked in place. Did he jump ship while Paul slept? A shame really, Paul had just been getting used to his charismatic company.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

More importantly, however, Olasqy seemed to know a great deal more about the obelisks. Yet he annoyingly always avoided the subject, deflecting it with humor, though he did enjoy talking about the supposed Omega astrobeing from a far and distant galaxy. Those were the last things on Paul’s mind now.

He had just received a new vision, one that felt more real and far more terrifying than the one from the city-ship. Were the two somehow connected? Who or what was under those black robes? Answers were bound to reside on Kanchi. Paul sat in the pilot’s seat and throttled the controls. Maybe Olasqy would turn up later to claim his ship.

Orange and gold sunlight began to fade on the horizon, peaking past the mountain peaks over Onesto, the only public starport on Kanchi. Thousands of lights shined from below. Onesto was a compact city, like a chunk of a greater metropolis carved out and placed in the middle of nowhere. Its blocky buildings did not seem to stand much taller than five or six stories high. Quaint, colorful houses decorated the glittering streets, a cast-iron river snaked its way through the center, and tall mountains which surrounded it all were being draped in velvety darkness. Onesto itself seemed little more than an insignificant speck on Kanchi’s surface. The darkening skies were wide open with only a handful of starships darting back and forth, several more lifted off from the hangers and zipped off into space. Paul paid little mind to the sights; something much more significant caught his eye. He leaned over the ship’s controls to get a better view of a massive silvery structure on the far end of town.

Perched within the mountains like natural fixtures, stood three massive towers that loomed high above everything else, even the highest peaks; each tower jutted up from the ground like polished knives. The center tower, at least three kilometers high, doubled the height of the others. Elegantly simple and a stark contrast to the much smaller city below.

Paul brought the Intrepid down to the spaceport. The landing pads were sparsely occupied, and he had little trouble settling into his designated docking bay. As he methodically switched the ship to standby and double-checked his equipment, he got the sense that the chrome spires appear through every viewport, almost as if they moved closer every time he looked away.

The massive building was called the “Cathedral,” according to one of the port workers. “Over two miles high,” the man said proudly. “Tallest building on Kanchi, or the system for that matter. Not that there’s much competition around here.”

Outside, the streets teemed with life: humans and aliens of all shapes and sizes roamed, flyers roared back and forth between the buildings, cleaning drones beeped and twittered with joy while picking up litter, and street vendors waved and hollered things like, “serving the best bistot steaks this side of the galaxy!” or, “gooboo eels just ten credits a box!” A delightful aroma emanated from a vendor with a sign that read Ruby’s Kabobs in several common galactic languages, and people lined up around the block to order dinner from it. A couple of human port security guards gave Paul a cursory glance, then grunted and went back to scanning the crowds.

Paul stood outside taking everything in— such a peaceful world untouched by the war, a rare sight. It had been years, in fact, since he stood on a planet that had never seen bolts of plasma raining from the sky or soldiers marching through the streets. Not surprising, considering its relatively low strategic value. Research during the journey had shown that Kanchi had a few small Amani orbital shipyards, and Onesto was only a minor food exporter. Even if the war came this far, the Tuyet Voi would likely overlook it.

Old newsnet articles did not reveal anything of much interest: the people liked to hold annual festivals to celebrate the arts, a woman had been murdered in one of the parks some years ago, and an epidemic of boskeen rat flu broke out that plagued the city for over a year. Though one article mentioned a retired Amani progenitor had taken up residence there, which presented a potential obstacle.

Paul noticed suddenly that something hot pressed against the side of his leg, from the pocket where he kept the silver map. He pulled it out to find the device was unusually warm and tingly—the sensation was uncannily like the obelisk he found in the city-ship. But now, a small holographic arrow appeared on the smooth silver surface.