CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Three days later.

  It had arrived, as it had twice before, to rescue him from the brink of starvation. Emerging from a crack in the ceiling, the feeding tube expelled a clump of mushy sustenance like a bird feeding its offspring. Soran opened his mouth wide — a desperate, feral look in his eyes — managing to catch more than the previous offerings. He swallowed, indulging in the repulsive yet necessary compromise to survive. The sawdust-like texture of the flavorless mulch brushed his throat on the way down.

  After an entire day of violent protest, his legs stopped kicking, and Soran became little more than a floating carcass. Gaunt, sleep-deprived, and so numb he feared his limbs frozen.

  The brief incarceration was the longest he had spent alone, really alone. It had always been him and Lanic back on the Hyacinth, and ever since his rendezvous with the Horizon, he was never without what had become his crew. Even during his brief encounter with Kaligan, questionable as those characters might have been, he was surrounded by life.

  Despite the hideousness of his current circumstance, he had at least had time to think. Reflecting on his past, his journey so far, the friends he had lost and found, and what exactly his future held. All potential outcomes seemed bleak, and the next chapter was a grim and foreboding darkness that filled him with dread. Though succumbing to fear was not something that Lanic ever tolerated, a firm believer in facing the dark unknowns head-on.

  Many opportunities for cowardice had presented themselves in the preceding days, a chance to turn his back and run, willfully ignorant of the collateral. Yet here he was, unfavorably situated but still alive. His desire to honor his mentor still burned in his heart, fueling his determination to survive. There would be casualties on this road, justice for the crimes committed that thus far remained unserved:

  The hunter that imprisoned him and his crew.

  The trickster that stole from Lanic everything.

  The creature that forced him to watch the unspeakable.

  Those responsible for his torment would be made to pay for their wickedness.

  Silence shattered with a metallic shriek of cell doors. The pool waters began to stir. In an instant, the glass panel holding Soran afloat shot open to either side, releasing him into the waters below. He struggled to kick to the surface, not having used his legs for so long. He gasped at the frigid air upon surfacing, relishing his first full breath in days.

  But why now? Had Teege returned?

  The possibility of reprieve from his watery cage filled Soran with cautious hope. Although escape entailed swapping one cage for another, he couldn't help but long for the respite in between.

  Marching feet echoed in the distance. Suddenly, gunfire erupted, triggering the Accran emergency horns that bellowed their anthem of warning throughout the facility.

  Soran panicked. He pushed his body closer to the cell door and pressed an ear to the cold bronze. Plasma fire was a familiar sound, but the low booms were uncharacteristic of energy weapons. It better resembled the old hand cannon Lanic had used to hunt tunnel shrews back when Soran was young, and even that was a family heirloom passed down for centuries.

  Who would be using such old-fashioned tech?

  Limbs weak from stagnation, Soran struggled to keep his body afloat. His panic compounded as the arctic pool threatened the corners of his mouth, waiting to slip into his throat.

  After several minutes of fierce exchange, the conflict engulfing the Accran jail abated. With the thunder of battle settled, the doors to the right of Soran's cell creaked open. Operation of his cell's control panel pricked up his ears, and he pushed back against the wall in anticipation. The face of either his salvation or demise was about to be unveiled.

  The connector bolts hissed out of place, and the door swung open to reveal an abstract silhouette. Soran was stunned by what stood before him. Neither Accran nor human, a cybernetic arm, reached forward and offered a hand of rescue.

  "Soran Valek. Friend or foe?" asked an artificial voice. Despite being given the option, he didn't know who or what he was responding to.

  "Friend?" he replied, cautiously optimistic. With his hand clasped tightly, he rose from the pool. The machine-man effortlessly dismantled the restraints around his wrists as it began a scan of his body, presumably for signs of injury or disease, though its logic was beyond his comprehension.

  Constructed from a reasonably advanced Nanoalloy, his rescuer took a humanoid form. That was apart from its cylindrical head that extended skyward about two feet above its shoulders, a halo-like optical visor encircling its center.

  Examining the aftermath of the discord, Soran saw countless Accran bodies littering the spiral staircase, hanging over the railing in various states of disarray. The platoon of androids broke open every cell, freeing their fellow machines and some lucky forms of biological life.

  Why would an Accran facility house android prisoners?

  How an army of synthetics ended up on the planet would be bizarre enough, though the real mystery was that the Navy failed to mention this fact to Teege during the brief. Did they even know?

  "Cybel awaits." One of the androids exclaimed to the crowd. A chorus of chants echoed the phrases in unison.

  "Cybel awaits! Cybel awaits!" they cheered. Soran caught a glimpse of the terrified expressions etched onto the faces of his friends. Kaligan and Malig had given him a taste of what being a Pirate Lord entailed. Suddenly, plunging back into the frozen waters of his cell seemed a more inviting prospect.

  As the parade of mechanized pirates marched down the staircase and into the darkness, Soran realized his freedom would likely come at a price. A price he was unsure he could pay for a second time.

  ------

  On the march between cages, freedom soured their tongues. After numerous incarcerations, pursuits, and attempts on their lives, the Horizon crew savored the timid privilege of walking unrestrained. The android militia they had found themselves ensconced in proceeded with singleminded determination, oblivious to the pleas of the coral prison's biological inmates. A chorus of muted drones and oscillating clicks buzzed in the air, internal circuitry pumping life through manmade veins. Many appeared recent constructs, untarnished plates coating the machinery of their limbs. Others would have been well at home atop a scrap pile, bodies rusted from decades of weathering, absent parts adrift on the winds of misadventure. Each individual had a unique aesthetic, connected only through the pirate mark they wore with pride. Three interlocking circles mounted before a cross. Mysterious though the symbol's significance was, their allegiance to the Cybel was evident.

  Soran wandered between two groups of androids with El at his side. He could hear vague chatter mixed with bursts of static frequency. Analogous to the encrypted dialogue of system-linked machinery, he assumed his captors were communicating. That was until they began to twitch.

  Shuddering as if a chill had entered the air, they scratched furiously at their bodies as if plagued by a terrible, fiery rash.

  "It's the sickness." Whispered El, coming close to Soran so as not to draw attention.

  "They used to be alive, like you and me. But when their time came, they chose to cheat death. Jumping ship to these shells and leaving their bodies behind."

  The process she referred to was known as Transference. Biological to artificial in a matter of moments, offloading consciousness into a synthetic mind, escaping the limits of nature and becoming something more than man. Revolutionary at the time of invention, everyone imagined that the days of mortality had come to an end. That was until the sickness showed itself. Doctors branded it the Tetraphage, the slow decay of an individual which ultimately resulted in insanity as the mind disconnected itself from the foreign object to which it was tethered. The unfortunate soul was cast into an endless nothing, grasping for an end yet unable to die.

  Soran observed the androids shuffle feverishly toward their destination. Their heads shook erratically, reacting to the countless imagined voices that echoed from within. A fate not to be wished upon even the most villainous but a price many had paid to cling to their fleeting lives.

  The staircase was coming to an end, and so too was the pervasive gloom. A faint glow illuminated the facility's base, revealing a fork in their path. Several small tunnels appeared, each running in a different direction. Above each entryway, a symbol was carved into the basalt surface, representing the subterranean cities the Accran called home. The group entered the tunnel depicting a two-headed turtle, the mechanical horde brushing up against the rough surface of the rocky walls. Tugg stopped moving.

  "Cybel Awaits." One of the androids chirped, unaccepting of the Accran's decision to delay their return.

  El walked back, placing her hands on his shoulders. She closed her eyes. Her skin blended its various hues until it settled upon a cool teal. Tugg exhaled, and for a moment, it looked like he was going to melt into his surroundings. El shot him a reassuring smile, and he took a confident stride toward whatever had filled his heart with fear.

  Having ignored the brief hindrance, Ranna was out a dozen meters ahead of the group. The eager pace at which he shuffled into the unknown perplexed his crewmates. For all they knew, the twins would have them executed on arrival, surely a fate to be delayed at every opportunity. Soran scoured El's troubled expression for some clarity. She knew Ranna better than anyone but could only offer a reluctant glance. She had seen this Ranna before and was well aware that no amount of talking could relieve him of his burden. Even her ability to influence emotion was rendered obsolete. A malady that none of them could understand consumed their Captain. Something back on Boreas had infected him. A venom without antidote that would continue to inflict its sickness for as long as Ranna allowed. They could only hope he would discover the elusive remedy before it was too late.

  Glass plating ran the entire length of the tunnel, permitting a picturesque view of Accrakos' seabed. The ocean teemed with life. Fluorescent schools of fish darted playfully through the great strands of Mangle-Kelp that stretched to the ocean's surface. Pods of tusked whales disturbed the calm water, grazing the sandy sea beds in search of hidden morsels. It was a sight to behold, and for the entire time they wandered, Soran surrendered to awe. Their predicament managed to slip his mind for those precious moments, and the privilege of being a boy presented itself once more. Not a hunter or a criminal, just a young apprentice engineer fascinated by the mysteries of his universe.

  Shadow engulfed their surroundings. The scaled underbelly of a monstrous leviathan prowled overhead. Tugg rushed up behind Soran and El, pulling them close. He locked his vision to the beast, its immensity dulling the seabed into petrified silence. Countless eyes of gleaming amber scanned the group with voracious fascination. Tugg knew the tunnel was a mere obstacle for the creature and didn't offer the level of protection that the others presumed. After a minute of anticipation, the unfortunate family of whales snatched the beast's attention. Capitalizing on the distraction, the androids hurried toward the tunnel's end. The hunters watched in horror as natural order unfolded. As large as tusked whales were, the crushing force of the massive creature's elongated torso made quick work of them, their broken bodies swallowed effortlessly by the jagged maw. Morbid fascination had Soran and El glued to the feast. Tugg -- all too familiar with the carnage -- hurried them along, bursting through a shoddily constructed gate and out into another expansive city.

  Barely having a moment to catch their breath, a wave of scalding mist smothered the group. Rivers of slag flowed through grated canals beneath their feet, belching a smog of toxins. Unaffected by the change in surroundings, the android army continued onward while the hunters slowly suffocated in the haze.

  They had emerged into the manufacturing district of Accran civilization. Factories and workshops occupied every square inch of solid ground, interrupted periodically by expansive cargo ports containing the fruits of Accran labor. In stark contrast to the aged technology of the capital, a fleet of immaculate sub-nautical vessels filled every docking station, Primed to eject out into the open ocean and defend against any aggressor that might threaten their way of life — doubtless another 'gift' from the Navy. The Accran now had access to the vast, untouched, mysterious planet. Leagues of previously inaccessible ocean, guarded by the lurking nightmares that haunted the deep, now open for expansion.

  The veil of deception was laughably thin. Far from the primitive barbarians the galaxy saw them as, the Accran understood implicitly that these treasures came at a price. Having the Navy on your side was a strong position to hold, even if it meant placing yourself squarely in their pockets.

  The continuous churn of machinery suffused the city. El examined the buildings as she passed, puzzled by the lack of workers. Door after door was left open, unfinished projects clogging up the rows of workbenches. Weapons, armor, and other war-waging paraphernalia sat idle, waiting for the master craftsmen to return. It was as if everyone had vanished in an instant.

  Unperturbed by the ghost town, the androids escorted their guests to a large warehouse in the southeast quadrant of the district. Soran noticed the modifications to the warehouse's steel shutters. Around a dozen Mag-bolts were punched into the metal on either side, fortifying the building against intrusion. The cylindrical-skulled android responsible for releasing the hunters walked up to the door and placed his palms into two open sockets. A guttural horn thundered, and the bolts shot open one by one with a tremendous clang as they struck steel. A pair of immense chains lowered from the door's apex, passed backward as each android grabbed a link. The rivets and wiring that held their synthetic bodies together shrieked in frustration as they fought to open the gates. Gradually, they pried their way inside, bathed in a sea of scarlet light. Thousands of rusted shells pivoted to acknowledge the return of their kin. A constellation of beady white-yellow eyes considered their organic guests. The android army tilted their heads, revealing the mark of Talas that each had carved into the metal plating of their necks. It was a mark that signified their dedication to the cause, a tribute to their king.

  The warehouse was unlike the others they had passed on their way. Massive pulsating towers of Shimmersene filled the space with the sleazy red glow of a back alley club. Huddled around the base of each tower were groups of chattering androids, countless wires flowing from the exposed sockets along their spines and skulls. All synthetic life required the substance to keep their body and mind functioning. Without it, they would be locked into an immobile shell as their minds slowly rotted from the sickness. Amid the rabble, two figures stood with their backs turned, silhouetted by the neon glow of a Holo-screen. Shrouded in shadow, they turned to face the hunters, revealing sinister smiles of jewel-encrusted teeth. The Cybel were indeed waiting.