Sa'lok Read online

  The approval came through ten minutes later.

  I hadn’t doubted it would, not for a moment.

  One of the toughest pilots in the auxiliary pilot program, she had been handpicked by the general as one of the pilots working directly under his orders.

  To become one of the general’s fliers was an honor few humans had received, and she was the first human woman to get it.

  Smart, brave, and talented, she had been an asset for the government ever since the Xathi decided to wreak havoc.

  Even more than that, she was also the best company someone like me could have. No matter how dire the situation was, Teisha always kept her head up, and she always had a witty remark on the tip of her tongue.

  Whenever she was around, my job became more...fun.

  Our friendship was an unlikely one, what with all the anti-alien sentiment going around, but it also felt like the most natural thing to happen.

  “You’re quiet back there,” she called over her shoulder. “You know how nervous that makes me.”

  “Just considering if I can integrate with your craft from here,” I teased. “I’m not sure if my implants can handle something this antiquated.”

  “Jerk. My baby is a thing of beauty.”

  I couldn’t see her face, but I’d bet a week’s pay she’d stuck her tongue out.

  Together, we just clicked. Of course, all that just meant I was being constantly harassed by the rest of the guys on my team.

  Much like the humans, they had a hard time believing two persons from different genders could become such close friends without anything interesting happening.

  I didn’t pay them much heed.

  She was an attractive young woman, no doubt about that, but as much as I liked having her around, I was always so busy that I just didn’t have the time to wonder about those things.

  Much.

  “Up ahead,” Teisha finally spoke up after a couple of hours. From behind, looking over her shoulder, I saw bright lights coming straight up from the ground a couple of miles ahead.

  “They’re signaling us.” Without waiting for me to say something, she lowered the power on the engines and dove straight toward the lights.

  Only when we were closer did I manage to get a good look at the city.

  Unlike most of the cities on the planet, Glymna seemed to grow down instead of up. The place was similar to a gigantic meteor’s crater, with the city occupying its inside.

  The various districts were like water drops slowly dripping down the inside curvature of a glass.

  It was hard not to marvel at the way the monstrous rocky slopes were covered with buildings and streets that had been carved straight into the rock.

  Cramped stairs zigzagged through the residential districts, their inclination something that would give pause to those afraid of heights, and there were large openings here and there that seemed to lead into underground tunnels.

  No wonder the Puppet Master had wanted us to set up shop here.

  “Take us to Hangar C,” I told Teisha as I checked my notes. “It’s the closest one to the lab, and they’re already waiting for us there.”

  She took us there fast, diving straight into the crater and making the way toward the large metallic structure that jutted out from the rock right near the end of the slope.

  “What do I do now?” she asked me as we landed, turning in her seat so that she could look at me. “Wait for you here? Or should I go looking for a hotel to stay in?”

  “You’re not going to be waiting here,” I laughed, already grabbing my bag and opening the hovercraft’s door.

  Climbing down from the ship, I held one hand out to Teisha. “You’re coming with me to the lab.”

  “I thought you said whatever you’re working on was classified.”

  “It is,” I smiled. “But the general gave you clearance on the way over. I was waiting for it, but you swung by too early.”

  “Does that mean—”

  “Yes,” I said. “You’ll be working with me on this.”

  “Now you’re talking.” Jumping out from the cockpit with renewed energy, she offered me a wide grin and then followed me off the landing platform.

  A government aide was already on hand to help us, and we followed him out of the hangar and into a maze of underground corridors that led to a sealed vault door.

  “Your biometrics have already been inserted into the system,” the aide said in a bureaucratic tone, pointing at the panel mounted to the side of the door.

  Nodding, I went toward the panel and let it scan my fingerprint and retina.

  Immediately, the door hissed as the hydraulics system came alive and forced it to swing back on its reinforced hinges.

  Stepping through the doorway, I glanced back to ensure Teisha was following me, then waited as the door closed again, leaving the aide behind. Ahead of us was an expansive corridor, the walls made of floor-to-ceiling glass panels that offered us a 360-degree view of the various lab rooms.

  To our side was the room where a translation team was working on translating the Aeryx languages, and a couple of steps ahead was what seemed like a chemist’s lab, all of it packed with state-of-the-art tech.

  “This is impressive,” Teisha whispered, looking around with a kid’s sense of wonder and fascination.

  “This is the nerve center when it comes to the Gorgos,” I explained. “The general and other staff are the ones pulling the strings, but when it comes to the real action, it’s all happening here. Have you met Mariella?”

  “Nope,” she answered as we stopped next to a human woman who was poring over some text on a computer. She turned to face us and smiled.

  “It’s amazing what you were able to do with decrypting alien languages,” Teisha said. “I’ve read about some of your work on the ’net. I’m excited to be working with you!”

  “Thank you,” Mariella said. “I left my notes open on this network to share with you. But I’m actually off to see the general about another problem.” She laughed, swept her hair back into a quick braid. “It’s never just one thing at a time anymore, is it?”

  We bid her farewell as she hurried away.

  “Alright,” Teisha nodded quietly, skimming over the files and transferring them to a tablet for reference. “Where are we?”

  “The Urai have managed to translate some of the runes we found at the dig site,” I explained, turning toward the translation laboratory to watch as the various translators—humans and Urai—worked around a massive table, with a large old-fashioned blackboard mounted against one of the walls.

  On it, all manner of runes and possible translations had been drawn up in chalk. “We’re in the early stages of the process, but we believe that whatever the Aeryx used had to do with memory.”

  “Memory? What does that mean?”

  “To be honest, I’m not sure,” I shrugged. “All I know is that I’ve been asked to start working on an antidote for the Gorgos’ infestation. I plan to start with the chemical processes that relate to memory in humans, and then go from there.”

  “That’s like looking for a needle in a haystack.”

  “Why would you be looking for a needle there?” I asked her, right before I realized that it had to be one of those human sayings. “Anyway, you’re right, it’s not an easy task. But with the Puppet Master’s help, maybe we’ll get somewhere.”

  “Well, at least we have a plan,” she muttered under her breath. Then, turning around, she looked straight at me. “Now, how bad is the infestation? I’ve been hearing a lot of rumors, but no one really seems to know what’s happening.”

  “Honestly?” Pursing my lips, I hesitated before replying.

  In the end, though, I gave it to her straight. More than anyone in my life, she deserved to know the truth.

  But still, my stomach knotted.

  “It’s bad, Teisha. Really bad.”

  Teisha

  I was thrilled when Sa'lok asked me to stick around. I’d never gotten the cha
nce to be this involved in a mission.

  That’s why I’d gotten involved as an auxiliary flier in the first place. Of course, the auxiliaries don’t actually do anything exciting.

  I’ve been mostly dropping off food and supply packages to remote outposts.

  It was rewarding work, to be sure, but ferrying Sa'lok back and forth was my main thrill in life.

  I was aware of how sad that was.

  Now I had a chance to do something real, something even more meaningful than being a glorified delivery woman.

  And I didn’t mind getting to spend some extra time with Sa’lok, either.

  When Sa'lok handed me a datapad filled with carefully translated notes, I was ecstatic.

  “Is this as good as delivering supplies?” Sa'lok asked.

  “So much better.” I was too excited to even joke with him right now. “You’ve basically given me the key to a toy shop on Solstice.”

  “Is that a good thing?” Sa'lok asked.

  “A very good thing.”

  If he wanted to talk further about human metaphors, we’d have to find time later.

  Right now, all I wanted to focus on was getting caught up in this wonderful puzzle so I could join the others in the next room.

  I found a comfortable corner of the lab, which wasn’t an easy feat, as laboratories are notoriously uncomfortable places to lounge.

  I flipped through the datapad, glancing at all the materials I could read over.

  “How many times has this been translated from one language to another?” I asked Sa'lok. “If I had to guess, I’d say three.”

  “You’d guess right,” Sa'lok replied. “It’s a language the team found not long ago. Remember I was telling you about the incident at the dig site?”

  “But you didn’t finish,” I replied, “which is a shame. Descriptive narrative is a strong point of yours.”

  “Thank you kindly,” Sa'lok smirked. “When I was a kid, I liked the idea of becoming a wandering storyteller.”

  “What stopped you?”

  “Realizing that wandering is expensive and storytelling pays nothing,” he grinned.

  “Yeah, that’ll do it,” I chuckled. Funny guy, for an engineer. “So, what happened out there?”

  “A lot. But what’s important right now is that the first language was found on the walls there. The Urai translated the runes, though it’s really more of an approximation than an exact translation, and then General Rouhr had them translated into something you humans can read.”

  “I’ll have you know I’m getting really good at reading K’ver.”

  “Is that so? Pronounce three words in it then,” he challenged with a wiggle of his brow.

  “I said read, not speak.”

  Truth be told, I hadn’t a clue how his language worked phonetically, and he knew it. I suspect he just wanted an excuse to tease me about it.

  “Worth a shot,” he shrugged, confirming my suspicions.

  “Yes, you’re very funny. Now leave me alone to read,” I waved him off.

  It took only minutes to fall into my old habits. I deeply loved languages and learning about how they fit into different cultures. I truly loved working in the linguistic field. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed it.

  I wouldn’t give up my current job, though.

  On the whole, it’s much more practical. It was what the planet needed. More so than linguists, anyhow.

  Except for maybe now.

  “I see what you mean about memories being an important theme,” I said after a few moments. Or, at least, I believed it to be a few moments. One glance at the timepiece told me I’d been reading for the better part of an hour.

  “General Rouhr is convinced memories are a solution,” Sa'lok said. “So am I.”

  “Do you really think it’s possible?” I set the datapad aside and leaned forward in my chair. “To make chemical memories, I mean.”

  “Honestly?” Sa'lok gave me a strange look. “There are other things I’d sooner believe.”

  “That’s not very optimistic of you,” I frowned.

  “Optimists don’t make scientific breakthroughs,” Sa'lok said. “Realists do.”

  “Oh please,” I rolled my eyes and tried not to laugh. “You didn’t know what an optimist or a realist was a year ago.”

  “Not true,” Sa'lok protested. “I didn’t know the human words, but I was familiar with the concepts. My people have our own words for those, not that you’d be able to say either of them.”

  His smirk made my blood boil, but it also wanted to make me burst out laughing. Sa'lok had that effect on me.

  “How long have you two been married?” a passing lab tech asked.

  I nearly choked on my breath, heat flooding my checks.

  Sa'lok fumbled with the datapad in his hand.

  “We aren’t married,” I said at the same time he said, “We’re not together.”

  “Really?” the tech blinked, “could’ve fooled me.”

  “We’re friends,” I said, even though that must be obvious to the tech.

  “Focus on your work,” the head scientist of the Glymna lab ordered, looking up. The tech nodded and quickly scuttled out of the room.

  “Nothing on that datapad suggests how to make memories, does it?” Sa'lok asked me, turning the topic back to what was important, but with an odd catch in his throat.

  “Not that I’ve seen so far,” I replied, pulling my attention back from wondering what being married to Sa’lok might be like. “I might be able to clarify some of the text, but I won’t be able to tell you any new information yet.”

  “Get clarifying,” Sa'lok smirked.

  Right. It would be annoying.

  But only sometimes...

  “Perhaps I might be of assistance?” A calm, layered voice took me by surprise, interrupting my thoughts from going places they shouldn’t go.

  “When did you get here?” Sa'lok asked, good humor bleeding through his voice.

  His gaze was directed at what was, essentially, a standard plant pot. Blooming from it was a rich green plant that looked like a tangle of vines.

  “Is that the Puppet Master?” I gasped.

  “Indeed,” the voice came again.

  From the plant.

  “How’s he talking like that?” I pointed at the pot like an idiot. “Didn’t you say the Puppet Master talks into people’s minds?’

  “He frequently does,” Sa'lok replied. “However, it was easier on him for us to figure out a way to project his voice. We used tech similar to the speech pad we made for Fen, the Urai. Look at his pot.”

  Now I noticed the pot sitting on some kind of dark surface, different from that of the lab table.

  “That’s basically a speech pad modified in a way the Puppet Master can use,” Sa'lok explained. “The pot has no bottom. It’s just meant to keep soil from spilling everywhere.”

  Behind the table was a tangle of vines that lead into the sandstone wall. A hole had been carved into the wall, I suspected for this very purpose.

  “I’m so pleased to meet you!” I gushed as I approached the plant. I reached out my hand as if to shake someone else’s, and quickly felt silly.

  Before I could snatch my hand back, the Puppet Master reached forward with a vine and wrapped it around the width of my hand.

  “Pleased to meet you,” he, it, the giant entity said. Him. Going with him.

  “How can you help?” Sa'lok asked.

  “As you know, I can forge a connection with the minds of other sentient beings,” he explained. “Part of that is accessing memories. I can see your entire life in the span of a moment. I do not do it often, as I find it to be a violation of privacy. However, I am willing to make a global exception if it means defeating the Ancient Enemies.”

  “Thank you,” Sa'lok nodded. “We don’t have much right now. We’re hoping you can help with that.”

  “How may I assist?”

  “We have no Gorgo-infected humans here in Glymna,” Sa
'lok continued. “However, there are plenty in Einhiv. If you can, I’d like for you to seek one out. Find a subject, reach into its mind, and restore the happiest, brightest, memory you can. We’ll work out the next part once you have that.”

  “I can do that,” the Puppet Master replied. “What is the purpose of the happiest memory, might I ask?”

  “It’s my theory that happy memories are stronger than sad ones,” Sa'lok said. “Though I’m not an authority on human psychology. What do human brains prefer?”

  I realized Sa'lok was speaking to me, but the lead scientist answered before I could.

  “Surely it’s sad memories,” he said. “The chemicals that create the sad ones are potent.”

  “I respectfully disagree,” I said. “Dopamine is a hell of a drug.”

  “I don’t think a linguist has much authority in the matter,” the scientist said smugly.

  Seriously?

  “We can figure that out as we go,” Sa'lok gave me a warning look. He knew my temper was about to snap all over that condescending asshole. “Let’s start with a happy, dopamine-filled memory.”

  “I can do that. Allow me a moment,” the Puppet Master said before going silent.

  “No!” the scientist barked.

  Sa'lok and I stared at him, confused by the sudden outburst.

  That’s when I saw it. His eyes looked…wrong.

  They were glassy, not like a mirror, but like an incredibly clean window.

  Sa'lok had told me of this before. It meant a Gorgo was present inside the human. The head scientist had been taken as a host.

  “No, no, no, no, no, no, no,” the scientist went on, tugging at his own hair as he chanted.

  “No, what?” Sa'lok prompted.

  He beckoned for me to come to him, so I did.

  He pushed me behind him, keeping himself squarely between me and the mad scientist.

  “No!” the scientist screamed, and dashed right toward us.

  “I’ll keep him busy,” Sa'lok said. “You need to run.”

  “Are you kidding?”

  Sa'lok grabbed me by the waist and shifted me away from the charging scientist. He careened into a lab table like he didn’t know it was there. Glass beakers and vials shattered on the floor.