Double Suns - Twisted Mirrors - Episode IV

By Charley Blackwolf

Voltex spoke quietly, “It's a long story, Red. You see, as it turns out, you happen to be a distant relative of someone who once lived in our original planetary system of Tannex. His name was Gilgamesh, and you carry part of a particular genetic coding. A coding that will allow females of my kind to be born and live. Without it they will die. It's that simple."
Episode IV demonstrates the outcome when a race of beings is faced with extinction as a result of female sterilization and their desperate attempts to continue on. In the beginning the Tannex prophets had said the people had sinned, that there would no longer be bodies for their souls to inhabit and their essence would be forced to drift aimlessly, lost forever in the blackness of space. But, there was one among them, Voltex, who survived and this single individual carried the hope for all in locating the genetically perfect one to carry on their species. Eons passed until finally success was achieved and the correct DNA coding located on a far away planet. This individual, a direct descendant of Tannex citizen Gilgamesh, became ‘Red’ and was named a true prophet by Sorn’s people but, in reality, he was a just a simple, vulgar man who, through no fault of his own arrives in a place unknown. Near death as a result of the experience he becomes part machine. A cyborg and one who would spread death and right wrongs of the conquerors, become a great avenger to the oppressed, find his true love and in the process provide the genetics needed to carry on those from Tannex. Yet, in the end, he would fail in the face of female jealously but true love never dies and always … always there is a way.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Apr 10, 2017
• ISBN: 9781483598161

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CHAPTER 1

THE FEEDING PENS

Red sat chained to a post in the Limped feeding pens. Next to him was the still living but partially eaten body of a Finakkan. It had once been a young woman, and like the majority of Finakkans, heavy set, with rolls of fat hanging from its waist. But now its sex was actually difficult to tell, for it no longer had breasts, nor buttocks, as the flesh in these areas had been stripped away. The scars and scabs showed that her captors had begun their feast by starting with bite sized chunks from both of her calves, and over time had moved upward along her legs, arms and into the fleshier parts of her body.

The pattern of consumption showed how clever the Limpeds were in keeping their victims alive while slowly devouring them. The teeth marks in her body showed how, in feeding off her, they were always careful not to sever a major artery or injure an organ that could cause immediate death. Their reptile bodies required little food; a few bites of flesh could sustain them for long periods. And, it gives the victim just enough time to recover from the wound and stay alive as a living source of nourishment for its captors. In that way they did not die, quickly spoil in the hot humid heat, and become unusable.

Red lifted his head as he saw two Limpeds, a large male and a female, come into the shaded feeding area. As their yellow eyes began to adjust to the shadowed light they saw Red, and, curious, rose up on their massive hind legs and walked over to him.

They looked at him for a moment, and then the male bent over and sniffed at Red’s foot. He stood, and revolving his massive body turned to the female. The eyes of the girl tied next to Red had grown wide with fright. She was trying to scream, but her tongue had long before been eaten and she had no voice. Violently she shook her head from side to side, finally reaching the point where it began to annoy the Limped male, and he took from a bright blue vest that covered his shoulders a leather cord, placed it in the girl’s mouth, jerked her head back and tied it against the post. Then he placed his greenish scaled jaw against her face and snipped off her right ear.

Chewing, he backed away to allow his mate a bite. Somewhat more delicate than her huge male counterpart, the lady Limped chose to surgically nibble along the girls shoulders, taking several walnut-sized chunks from each side. She retired to allow the male another opportunity, which he took, and with a deftness nearly unbelievable for a creature of his size, he removed most of her right triceps without so much as scratching the main arterial and vascular paths in that section of the arm.

The female had a few more morsels from the upper thigh and then, hunger satisfied they turned and left. The girl had long since fainted away.

Red sat watching, and from somewhere deep in his mind felt a sense of anger at the helplessness of the girl. He stood and started to jerk at the chains that bound him hand and foot to the post. But, then he stopped, for the feeling had quickly faded away and left him not knowing why he was pulling at the chains. Confused and unable to correctly regulate his breathing, he gasped for several breaths then sat back down to stare at the door leading out of the feeding pens.

The Limped with the blue vest met the two translators on their way into the feeding pens, and he and his mate stopped to chat. Nodding his head back toward the door, telepathically he said, So that is the human everyone is spreading rumors about.

In respect to his superior rank the translator answered in the characteristic hisses of Limped verbal speech, Yes, Captain Thane. That’s the one. Large, isn’t he?

Yes, too muscular though—bad for the teeth. I think he would be poor eating. Have you found anything else out about him? Or the weapon? My staff is very interested in any developments regarding that device.

Chuckling, one answered, As to eating him, we agree, sir. We do not envy his owners. This creature is sure to be a long, but tough meal for them. We have some unsubstantiated rumors that there is a slave trader coming down from the North. Perhaps they can trade him for something a little more appetizing. As to the weapon, I’m sorry captain, we know nothing. It’s being studied. I doubt if anyone will tell us anything anyway. We aren’t on the list of those allowed access to those files, which we both find as sort of amazing since we have been told to come up here and get the fellow and do some more extensive mind probes on him. Seems the Queen has rescinded her earlier orders and authorized a search of his fear response centers."

Isn’t that illegal?

In normal cases, yes. But this situation is so unusual she has invoked the use of her executive powers to allow its use for this single case. The feeling is that this is the only way we can find out who this individual is, and more importantly, for those like you and other commanders of the military, just exactly how that weapon works. Did you and you lady enjoy your feeding? Yes, somewhat. Its body is beginning to dry up, though. The Kallhari they are using now doesn’t seem to preserve them as well as the old stuff. I’m afraid most of the good parts are gone; I think it will last a while longer though. The Finakka have grown very adept at avoiding our traps. We haven’t had a successful catch in my sector in over a pass. Hopefully we will have one soon our Satrap is beginning to complain. Of course, if your intelligence is correct about this slave trader coming, perhaps we will all have some fresh meat soon.

In her high pitched voice the female said, Oh, I hope it’s that old one! What’s his name? Tip-top or something? He always deals in the young ones; their flesh is so much sweeter. Well … with the exception of elapidae of course. But we haven’t had any of that here in Sychar in a long time.

Then with cordial goodbyes they passed each other, leaving the translators to their mission of retrieving Red for additional interrogation proceedings. Entering the feeding pens they both searched the silver eyes for some sign of recognition, but found only blankness accompanied by an occasional blink.

One muttered to the other, You know it’s hard for me to believe he is alive. Here he is, sitting next to a feeding feast and he does nothing. He seems to have no sense of fear.

The other replied, Perhaps it’s because he does not yet realize that he, too, is likely to be eaten. Although, if you look at his skin color he really doesn’t look that well. I still think he is having trouble breathing.

Made up of immense black marble blocks, the Queen’s room was lavishly decorated. Along each wall purple colored draperies hung down and sprawled in tumbled heaps on the floor. It was brightly lit through several towering skylights that bounced rays from the double suns into the room and scattered them along the many jewels. Jewels that were hung in different design arrays along the edges of the drapes and impregnated in the huge golden throne that sat at the back center wall.

Like the drapes, purple colored cushions covered the throne, and upon them sat Queen C’ttie the 4th. On her head was a resplendent crown, from which a single dazzling yellow diamond radiated its brilliance. Around her neck was a jeweled chain of gold. Each link contained a setting of green emeralds, and on each wrist of her forelegs were her personal favorites; bracelets of deep violet amethysts. By the sides of the Queen’s throne there were four large ivory colored porcelain pots, their openings edged in gold, and they were filled with white orchids.

In attendance with the queen there were several high ranking military officers, so designated by the color of the vests they wore; the Chief Satrap and a medical doctor. The setting was arranged for an open forum, and much less formal than the original proceedings. The Queen sat in her throne, but all of the others simply stood around the raised platform she sat on, in no particular order, with the Klaskov rifle lying on a square glass table in front of them. She looked down at them and asked, What do you make of it, General Matar?

Gray colored skin folds that hung heavy below his bright yellow eyes and along his jaw line signified his ancient age began to shake as the old limped walked over to the table. He looked up at everyone and in a gravelly voice said, I have never actually seen this kind of weapon. But our history books show some that closely resemble it. As a young hatchling many passes ago, I was told by some of our troopers of the awesome destructive power it possessed. That was in the time when the Finakkans still had many of them that were still working. For the most part, at that time, these devices were being used to cut down trees and clear the land to expand the farms—what had once been our farms. On occasion they were used to kill; small game mostly. We were certainly not a threat to them then. We were the defeated, and in a completely different and unfamiliar form. Most of our kind was small in stature, and we had no military capability left.

It was the beginning of what we have now. We had just successfully completed the cloning process using the blood given to us by the rocx Silack the Gray. I was the second generation of those with the enhanced telepathic abilities and the increased size. Though I must admit I was nowhere as big as some of the hatchlings we have now.

He paused for a moment, and in the practice of those in advanced age with blood circulation straining to reach all the extremities, he stretched his forelegs, raised his head then continued, But to get back to the weapon. Basically it is a subatomic particle accelerator. It strips the atoms from within a crystal lattice and then splits them up in protons and neutrons and focuses one or the other, in the case of the Finakka weapon I believe it was the neutrons, into intensely focused beam that’s capable of cutting its way through most known materials. Miniaturized electronic circuits utilizing a computer driver are used to activate extremely powerful magnetic fields to do this.

He paused, Conceptually, the device is really quite simple, and we actually have the technology to make one. The problem is that it would occupy several rooms about double this size, and the power input would be over four times what we can get out. The trick in getting a practical sized weapon like this one here is in the precise mix of materials used to make up the circuits and magnets. Normal metals cannot be used, their electrical resistance is too high and they are too heavy. Only certain materials, at this point an undetermined ceramic mix, will allow the necessary electronic functioning. We know this but it is something we have never been able to duplicate. Of course the weapons we captured from the Finakkans when we retook this part of New LLyme were so small, and our research capability so limited at the time, we simply were not able to determine with, any precision, what the mix was. Now that we have this larger weapon, I’m confident that we will have a better chance of success.

He shook his huge head, I just think what the development of a weapon like this could mean many passes cut off our objective of regaining our homes, our land, and our cities of Tekoa And Ai that were taken away by those miserable little creatures.

Again he paused. …The Sanhedrin Legion, how I hate the name! Unfortunately our intelligence tells us that they still have some of these weapons that are functional. If we could develop one like this, or even determine how to use this one, we would have a weapon that would allow us to effectively counter the Legion in the proposed campaign to reclaim the Chi Valley.

Then he stopped, Well, moving on—Your Grace, as you requested, we have brought the Chief Surgeon for all military forces. I think you will find some of his theories interesting. Please proceed, Surgeon.

The one in the green medical jacket with gold epaulets looked up and in a series of hisses that formed the basis for formal verbal conversation directed his comments to the Queen. "We in the medical establishment have formed some theories regarding this alien’s apparent inability to form conscious thought.

Some old Finakka texts that were captured and placed in our archives in the early days seemed to deal with a situation much like this. A condition like this was induced by a chemical called Cylocofloropectain. Apparently this substance was an injectable distillate made from the roots and leaves of Kallhari plant that had several extra hydroxyls added. The addition of the hydroxyls to the base chemical makeup of the Kallhari seems to eliminate the paralyzing effects the plant has in its raw state.

He paused, I would like to point out that these are just theories and even though there are some apparent similarities because this creature is, from what we can tell, not from Sorn, direct correlation is probably incorrect.

With a sense of the impatient the Queen hissed, Please get to the point, surgeon. I have enough conversation that wastes time and denies responsibility from my politicians. I expect those of you in the technical fields to know better.

Somewhat shocked at the rebuff, the surgeon stammered, "Well, yes. Of course, Madam. Let me rephrase. Uh, the blood tests on the captive show a high percentage of hydroxyls. This is indicative of the use of a well-known poison. It’s the same one we use to numb our captives before we start feeding on them. It’s called Kallhari. Apparently the Finakkans once used it in very slight amounts to arrest normal brain activity. Primarily it was used on the battlefield. The Finakkans referred to the chemical as Cylocofloropectain. It’s not quite the same chemical mix as what we use; several hydroxyls were added that inhibit the paralyzing effects of raw Kallhari.

"Uh … what happens when a body is severely wounded is that it tends to go into shock. In a high percentage of cases it was determined that the shock was often what killed, rather than the wound. The Finakka found out that by administering a small dosage of this chemical at the base of the skull they could stop the mind from functioning, and in this way prevent the body from going into shock. It was a temporary measure used on the battlefield to get their wounded back to an aid station before they died.

As the patient began to recover, a second and often a third dose of some sort of antidote was given. Unfortunately, despite some very diligent research, the chemical makeup of the antidote could not be found in any of the text we have. All we know is that the dosages were about one third to one half the original, depending on the size of the individual. For reasons that aren’t clear, this restored normal brain activity. Our medical records show that in the past we too have used an antidote on several captives that for one reason or another we had to remove from a numbed state. However, based on what we could find in Finakkan medical texts, we don’t think it’s the same. The chemical mix of our antidote is not Kallhari based, and the dosages are much different.

General Matar asked, How did you say the doses of this chemical Cyloco…. I’m sorry I didn’t get the name … is given?

Initially by injection at the base of the skull. Later, the antidote was administered orally.

Again General Matar spoke, That’s very interesting, surgeon. How is it that you were involved in this? I don’t recall that we have ever used Kallhari in a military situation. And, if my memory serves me right… He looked around the room, isn’t Kallhari regarded as a dangerous poison, and its use very carefully controlled?

The surgeon replied, "Yes General. It’s classified as a class three drug. Our use is primarily as an injection to numb captives and allow their consumption without a lot of undue movement. The drug we use, like the Finakkan’s Cylocofloropectain, is not pure Kallhari. Even though it’s commonly referred to as Kallhari, it’s really a quite complex modification of the basic chemical makeup of the plant. We add additional carbon because we found that by doing so we still had its paralyzing effects, but if need be they could be arrested. The additional carbon combines with some of the free oxygen radicals in the Kallhari, and changes part of its molecular makeup so that an effective antidote could be developed."

He paused looking around the room, then back at the Queen, In the raw state Kallhari is a very dangerous poison. Even in extremely small amounts it causes a strange sort of paralysis where the individual can think but cannot move. In these cases, so much as a single leaf from the bush will cause one to lose all normal motor functions except respiration and heartbeat. We have documented several cases where this happened. You see … the leaf is easily mistaken for that of the normal Chi tea bush. Unfortunately, when taken internally in its raw state, there is no cure. Once poisoned, the individual simply starves to death, or if in the wild is usually eaten by some sort of beast, as they cannot protect themselves nor run away. It is thought that some of the smaller tribes among the Merocs use a distillate from the leaves on their arrows which allows them to quickly immobilize their game when they hunt. The Azzi and Hoosupiaa, I think they are called.

He stopped, looked at General Matar, To answer your question regarding my personal involvement with this substance, uh, the reason that I am aware of these things is that my staff and I are currently involved in researching its potential use for the war machine project. It appears that raw Kallhari may have some promise in certain areas. It is thought that control of the hatchlings, once they grow to full size may pose a problem.

Queen C’ttie asked, And how does this apply to our current situation? From this conversation it appears that you think this alien, or whatever it is, may have been subjected to this type of medical procedure. If so why?

The surgeon nodded, Well, we do think it’s possible. He does show extensive scarring, indicative of very serious wounding but we are not exactly sure how that might have occurred. Administration of this particular compound by someone unknown on this planet is not really reasonable. From what we can tell the Finakkans no longer use the drug. You see, the Kallhari plant only grows within our boundaries. I and my staff agree that the creature is a sophisticated trooper, perhaps cloned for the purpose of developing a weapons system. Given his size and stature, it is also quite likely that he is not from this planet. How he might have come into contact with Kallhari administered in a fashion that did not leave him completely paralyzed is not known. All we can say is that, based on the high hydroxyl content in his blood, this appears to be what has happened to this particular individual.

The Queen spoke, Then, are you suggesting, Chief Surgeon, that we administer our Kallhari antidote to this creature and try to get him to respond on a conscious level with us so that we might learn how he interfaces with the weapon?

Nervously, the Chief Surgeon looked around the room, then back to the Queen saying, I think it is something we would all like to try. It could kill him and we would learn nothing, but yes, that is what I and my staff recommend. That is, of course, assuming the translators cannot find anything useful in the fear response centers in his subconscious, and assuming that procedure itself does not kill him. Incidentally I do recommend against that, I think the procedure is much too dangerous.

The Queen thought for moment, If we administer the antidote could he still be eaten? He is the property of those who captured him, so they have the right to claim nourishment from his body.

Oh, yes. The antidote is not Kallhari based, and even if he had consumed it in its raw state he would still be edible. As a matter of fact, at one time, long before the wars, it is recorded that we ourselves used the poison on arrows and darts, to kill small game for food. As I mentioned previously, some of the Merocs are thought to still use it in that way, though I must admit that has never been documented.

They all heard a sound at the entrance and looked up to see the doorman signal the Queen. She spoke saying, Ah, it looks as if our guest of honor has arrived.

The crowd turned to see the translators walking in their direction, dragging Red between them. He was in a collapsed state, and seemed completely inactive, neither resisting nor showing any indication that he was aware of his surroundings. He was no longer bound by the leather strapping that had tightly held him in the beginning. Now he was being confined by only by a set of chains and wrist shackles. Those at the bottom of the platform moved aside as they brought him up and dropped him in front of the Queen. One said, All hail the great Queen C’ttie the 4th. May her reign be long and prosperous.

All those present hissed their approval and slapped their tails against the marble floor in applause. The translator raised himself up, If it pleases you, we are ready to proceed with the prisoner, Madam.

She nodded saying, He doesn’t appear to be very responsive. Are you sure he is still alive?

One of the translators replied, He is alive Madam, but his health is deteriorating rapidly. He seems to be undergoing some sort of respiratory failure. If we do not examine him now, I fear we may never have the chance.

The Queen paused for a moment, Well then, I suppose we should proceed.

Kneeling on the floor, they placed Red’s head between them and attached a set of telepathic taps to each of his temples, then stood and ran the calibration checks of their translator box wave pattern baseline.

After they finished, the surgeon walked up, knelt beside them and placed a collar around Red’s neck, from which several wires led to a small hand held monitoring unit. He looked up at everyone and said, I thought it would be a good idea to monitor his pulse and other vital signs. Uh, in case the subconscious probes become life threatening. Perhaps we can stop soon enough to prevent his death.

One of the translators replied, A nice thought, surgeon, unfortunately, it has been our experience that once an individual’s fears are brought to the surface, they typically become so frightened that their heart stops and they do not recover.

Then he made a minute adjustment to his translator screen’s brightness saying, It is in the few moments before they die that we gain whatever information they possess. Actually, I don’t think it’s something you can prevent, especially in a case like this where the individual is already in a weakened state. But in the name of all civilized creatures, if there is a chance we can help him live, we should. There are certainly benefits in keeping him alive, as his body would not spoil and go to waste. It would serve to leave him edible for later.

The surgeon shrugged, Well, it’s something. Perhaps if we see a severe reaction we can discontinue the probe in time.

One translator looked at the other mumbling, Doubtful. Then asked, Are you ready?

The other nodded, Yes.

It took a moment for them to become focused, and then one began to speak in a series of low hisses, Blue. I sense something blue; shimmering, cold. Incredibly cold. Oh! An attack! Flesh is torn … Blood! There is blood everywhere! The beast is orange… The intensity and volume of the hisses increased as he said, Jesus it’s a cat! A huge fucking cat! Silack! Silack! Help—help me! I’m dying but I’m in love…. We are one—we are Red. She is with me—protect! Protect!

Then suddenly both the translators stopped. They both switched off their translator box screens and simultaneously asked each other, Did you sense what I did?!

Those around them stared in quiet question. Then one of them spoke to the crowd saying, Uh, I’m sorry—we had to stop. It was as if his mind suddenly clouded over and then started to reflect our probe back at us! We had to terminate the interrogation. Uh, otherwise we would have been inside our own fear response centers. I’m afraid we can’t continue without undue risk to ourselves. Somehow this creature has learned how to prevent mind probes—at least those that might cause it harm.

The Queen asked, Were you able to learn anything?

As I was in combined thought with him, it appeared that he was attacked and badly wounded by something. There was a period of cold, and something to do with a blue shining thing, perhaps a door. I had the sense he passed through it several times, but not of his own free will. He mentioned Silack several times. He has definitely been in contact with a rocx by that name. The bond between them was quite strong, though he seems to refer to this rocx as a `she’ which is very confusing. Silack is not a female name. He seems to believe he is one with the beast—or perhaps something else—it’s not at all clear.

General Matar spoke, Isn’t there a part of the northern nomad’s legend that speaks of some sort of shining god?

One of the members of the party spoke up, I am Captain Thane. Folklore is my hobby. Perhaps I can help.

He bowed saying, Your Grace—General. There is such a legend. It regards something the Merocs call the Shining God That Sings. It is thought to be some sort of natural phenomena, possibly associated with electrical charge build up on tall objects during stormy weather. What happens is the negative charge in the storm clouds tends to induce a positive charge on these objects, and this results in a very bright, twisting sort of glow. It’s not all that uncommon.

The Queen nodded, "General … your