The Rising Sun: Episode 5 Read online

  This can’t be happening. thought Ranor, as he digested what he was seeing.

  The watchmen…

  They had returned…

  The four of them let their beady, fiery eyes drill into him as they stood around him on the large roof, their glowing forms seeming to flicker like flame woven flesh.

  And then came the gentle buzz of another electrical engine from a shrinking distance. It took Ranor a second or two before he could tear his eyes from the creatures around him and turn.

  Mantra had arrived on his hover bike, landing softly right before where he and the watchmen stood.

  “Like I said,” he chuckled as he dismounted the bike. “we do have the power of Elderon by our side,” His eyes swiped the four watchmen. “Literally. Now, allow me to repeat for the last time,” He walked up slowly and stood glaring at Ranor a foot from him. “Where is the bomb?”

  Faced with no other choice, Ranor told him. Mantra sent one of the watchmen to the location to destroy the bomb. He, the Brownling and the other three watchmen lingered to remain behind with him.

  “Now,” said Mantra, stepping closer to him while the other four stood around him, guarding him from running. “we are desperately in need of some more vital information that we both know you’re hiding from us … you can either reveal it now, or – “ His eyes strayed beyond the roof. “We’ll allow you to complete that fall we unceremoniously interrupted you in.”

  The watchmen took a step closer behind him, their fiery eyes seeming to scald his back from where they stood itself.

  “All right,” Ranor panted, holding up both hands. “All right … I do have something to help you find the other nine bombs. But even if I do, you’ll have a hard time trying to find the bombs in each of the ten planets.”

  “Don’t waste your worries on that.” said Dantox, cracking his knuckles as he walked forward. “Instead, worry that your information might not be satisfactory for us … because if it isn’t…”

  The watchmen stepped closer, and Ranor raised his hands higher, feeling sweat coat the side of his neck. “No! It’ll be satisfactory.”

  Mantra nodded. “It better be. Talk. How can we find the other bombs?”

  “All right … I’ll tell you what you need to know. It’ll be enough.” Ranor swallowed a quick breath and took on a steadier voice. “The Xeni have got a hold over plenty of terrorist and crime organisations. Over the millennia, they’ve been breeding their powers, slowly extending a hold over half of the criminal underworld. And right now, they’ve reached a very powerful state through all of them. Through their criminal connections. Among these criminal organisations, they had a particular one involved for the placing of the bombs. And it’s the head of this organisation that you’ll need to find. This crime lord is the one responsible for displacing the bombs across the ten planets. I was here only to have it checked, the bomb here in this planet. This guy knows the location of all the bombs. Get to him, and you’ll have everything you need.”

  Mantra nodded, his brow pressed together in a frown. “I like where this is heading. Keep talking.”

  When Ranor had finished disclosing this person’s identity, and his location, Mantra had knocked him out with a swift swing of his fist. Then, he left him tied up in heavy chains and gagged at the corner of the building, so that when he woke, he would be as useless to his side as he was now. Then, turning to Nano, one of the two remaining watchmen here on the roof, Mantra nodded.

  “We have our target. The man the Xeni’s just spoken of is a quick way out of this mess. Who knew, this might have been easier than we thought.”

  Nano gave a sharp nod and said, “For the sake of mankind, we must hope it is…”

  “The rest of the army is waiting outside this city.” Dantox reminded them.

  “Of course they are,” said Mantra. “We had decided to bring only a small handful for this small task. If we brought the entire army in, it would have scared the people here half to death. And I doubt they need any more death scares.”

  “I’ll contact them, and have them follow us now.” Nano said.

  “Well,” said Mantra, his mind now stiffening with focus. “we know who we need to find to end this madness. Let’s go get him.”

  “And give him the surprise of a lifetime.” added Dantox.

  And together, they entered the hover car, which leapt off the roof, and went streaking back through the sky again.

  6

  Meanwhile, a billion miles away, a great orange ship shaped like a falcon tore through space at a speed far faster than any other ordinary one could have achieved. Inside it, Ion sat on the pedestal in grim focus, staring at the four screens on the table opposite to him. On all four of them, the pitch black expanse of space was mirrored.

  Ion was watching the four blank screens for a long time, his mind controlling the systems of the ship. For the slightest second, a prickle of boredom arose within him. And it stirred the sleepy side of him that he had put at bay for nearly two days now.

  Pushing the boredom aside, Ion sat straight and pulled himself together. He knew that the ship could be set on autopilot, allowing him to roam about the hull and do as he pleased without staring at the four black screens opposite. But doing so would be a sign of weakening focus, and that was the one thing he would not let happen. He knew that this was the period would test his resolve and focus like never before, and whatever be the price, he would not let himself falter.

  Swallowing a quick breath, he ran through the course of the plan. He would reach Velrox in about an hour now. And he would land at the outskirts of one of the villages in the planet. And then wait for the priest, Nalzes, to meet him. When Nalzes reached him, the two of them would fly to the nearby planet, Garnor, where the mystical tablet was, which Mantra had told him of. Nalzes would then use the tablet to destroy the plague crystal once and for all … and set them all free.

  Ion could feel a flicker of tension as his imagination roved over the space of time that came between here, and his arrival the planet Velrox. He knew that reaching Velrox safely and delivering the crystal to Nalzes was the most important task he had in his entire life. And nothing could go wrong in between.

  He pulled the crystal out of his pocket and stared at it grimly for a second. Setting the ship on autopilot for a second, he rose from the pedestal, exiting the strange bubble encasing it. He crossed the distance between the pedestal and the table in front and placed the crystal right before one of the four screens. He knew that this would serve as a constant visible reminder of the intensity of what was now happening. And what was at stake.

  __________

  “An orange ship shaped like a falcon passed one of our invisible hotspots … and was found positive on mystical energy readings. Highly positive.” The voice on the z-com stopped to heave a deep breath. “We think we’ve just found a mystic travelling across space somewhere at the edge of the inner spectrum.”

  Naxim officer Vrrad lowered the z-com very slowly. For a second, he almost considered wondering if he was hearing right. But sadly, he knew he was.

  “What’s the ship’s colour?” officer Vrrad breathed into the z-com, his eyes straining to keep from widening. “The ship which you just mentioned, which passed the invisible hotspot and was found positive on mystical energy readings?”

  He knew that with the Naxim having rigged the spectrum with mystical energy detecting hotspots, any ship passing through these hotspots would be detected if found carrying even a trace of mystical energy. And one had now…

  There was a slow rustle of breathing on the line. And then the person delivering this report to officer Vrrad replied in a hushed voice.

  “It’s a deep orange ship, shaped like a falcon. The hotspot had picked up its energy readings - there’s only one person in it. And it’s a mystic.”

  “Do you have its location right now?” asked Vrrad.

  “Yeah,” replied the man. “It just passed less than a minute back. And we have its line of travel.
We’ll have it sent to you, and you’ll know exactly where the ship’s at.”

  “Do it.” ordered Vrrad, his pulse racing. “Do it fast!”

  Disconnecting the line, Vrrad made a hurried call to another member of his squad. The video call was answered, and a holographic screen formed in the air over the z-com. The squad member Vrrad had called stared out of the screen.

  “Get the other members of our squad, all of them!” barked Vrrad. “Suit up and get our ship ready. Now.”

  The man lifted an eyebrow. “What is it?”

  “Surprise, surprise.” said Vrrad. “A mystic’s just wandered right into our grasp.”

  __________

  A mild drowsiness settled over Ion. And the alert state of his mind was beginning to waver. His gaze was firmly fixed to the four holo screens hovering atop, and nothing but the endless black chasm of space was seen on all four sides. And after gazing idly at the pitless blackness for a steady stream of time, he couldn’t blame himself for feeling sleepy.

  His eyes wandered wistfully to the cozy sofa like seats at the back of the hull. Maybe I should set in on autopilot, and just take a short nap.

  Instantly, a part of him squealed in protest: he was carrying the most important item in this universe now. His eyes stalled over the plague crystal on the table before him. Risking this was not a worthy endeavour. He had to stay awake and alert. Even if it meant carrying the weight of many sleepless nights.

  So be it, then. He submitted to his higher reasoning, jolting himself back into alertness.

  He kept his thoughts latched to the goal. He could estimate that he would reach the planet in less than an hour…

  An hour… he thought bitterly. An hour of sitting here with nothing to do, and with nothing to stare at save for the empty blackness of space all around…

  The minutes trickled past, and his mind wandered … Visions of escape fiddled with his focus … he felt his eyelids grow heavy again… his straightened posture was beginning to slacken … strange stirrings occurred at the back of his ears … and then a blissful quiet had stolen over him, so that he couldn’t even hear his snores echoing within the hull.

  All worries, all pains were vanquished … put well off reach. Bliss like nothing else cloaked the world. And Ion along with it.

  Slowly emerging from the warm layer of inner peace, Ion awoke slowly.

  His eyes fluttered open. Finding himself through the grogginess, he decided to sit straight on the pedestal he had fallen asleep over. And suddenly, the murkiness of his sleep vaporised in an instant: he wasn’t sleeping on the pedestal at all, he realised as he opened his eyes. He was sitting bound in iron chains to a chair in the middle of a large empty room, with the seal of the Naxim pasted over the door opposite to him.

  7

  For a moment, his jaw fallen open, Ion wondered madly if he was dreaming … he could feel the steadily rising thuds of his heart hammering in his chest, louder and faster by the passing second.

  What just happened? he wondered, feeling his throat go dry. How in the world did I get here?

  He racked his mind for something that had happened in between, which he must have forgotten. But it then occurred to him that he had fallen asleep in Flamebird, and had awoken inside of a Naxim facility’s room, bound. He had evidently been attacked in the middle of his sleep. The officers must have stunned him when they secretly boarded the ship, leaving him to face a nasty awakening when the time came for it.

  I’ve been captured by the Naxim! His alarm and panic spun out of bounds with the full implications of the realisation: Where’s the crystal? What’ve they done to Flamebird?

  He tried mustering every ounce of his will to use his powers. To help him break out. But it was of no use: the irons binding him were clearly made and welded for mystics. They were far too strong, for him at least. He was trapped. And there was nothing there could be done.

  His breath now came in short, panicky gasps. He tried to look about. But the iron chains bound his neck as well, so that he couldn’t twist it too much without breaking it. Still and helpless as the walls closing around him, he sat there watching what felt like a few millennia soar by. The only sounds falling to his ears were the incessant, loud drumming of his heart.

  This can’t be happening! Just when everything was going on a direction, a steady path, Ion had brought it all crashing down. He had let himself be led astray by one foolish, pathetic impulse … he had lost it. Just when he’d found it. If only he had kept himself awake at that dire time he was needed to.

  What are they going to do with me? Why isn’t anyone here? What’s going on?

  It took a long, panicky moment before he could gather his resolve and force himself calm. He breathed in a slow, rhythmic pattern for a whole minute, allowing the panic to drain. As he stopped, finding a measure of control again … he heard it:

  Another slow, hiss like breathing … coming from right behind him.

  “So,” said a cold voice behind him, leaving the faintest thud of his footsteps as he stepped forward. “Where do we begin, mystic?”

  __________

  Officer Vrrad walked ahead of his captive, whose orange eyes had gone wide as apples as he looked at him. It had been too easy… they had taken a few battle ships, but had needed none: as they approached the ship, a stealth team they had deployed secretly dug into the majestic falcon shaped ship. The boy, the sole passenger in the large and lavish ship, had been sound asleep on the driving pedestal. Without breaking a sweat, they had stunned him so that he stayed asleep as long as they needed him to…

  Vrrad walked ahead of the boy, wearing a cold, triumphant sneer.

  Ion saw that the officer was carrying a space mask, a helmet with a glass covering upfront, by his hands. He was wearing a full white suit that seemed puffed up and cushiony. This was a space suit. What they were in now, was not a planet. They were in a space station. This was a Naxim space station, and he was being held there.

  “Where’s my ship?” he demanded, not afraid to let the menace show in his voice.

  The officer bent down, his sneer vanishing behind a more serious expression. “I’m the one asking questions here.”

  He sent his fist hurtling into Ion’s belly and Ion gasped loudly, bending forward on his bound chair. Groaning in pain, he felt another slice of agony as he accidentally bit his tongue.

  Coughing, he spat out a globule of blood, eyes burning with tears.

  “Good. I see you’ve picked up the vibe of you stay here.” Vrrad gave a cold laugh. He sank his hand into his suit pocket and pulled out a z-com. Dialing furiously, he barked into the device, “I want all of you now. Our guest requires some entertainment.”

  In a short minute, the door opposite, with the Naxim seal, burst open. Seven other men in puffy white suits, their faces covered in space masks, stormed into the room. Two of them stepped up by either side of the officer.

  The officer turned and called, “Allow him a glimpse of the present we’ve got for him, won’t you?” One of the others strode forth from behind and handed the man what looked like a gun. But Ion saw, as the officer turned, that it wasn’t the Sparkler. It was the Stinger. The torture gun.

  Vrrad watched the foreboding stir in the boy’s eyes.

  “I see you’re no stranger to the world of interrogation,” he said, beckoning to the Stinger. “Now, I want you to listen very closely.

  He bent closer to Ion, his face now mere inches from Ion’s.

  “The spectrum is now at war. With your kind. We’re now at a state of threat like nothing else because of you. You’ve pushed us well over the edge, and the time has passed where we show you any of the mercy we’d shown before.” He paused to let the effect of the words sink in, and then said, “We are going to hunt down every last one among you, and find the ones responsible for the attacks. At whatever cost necessary…”

  His voice went softer. “If you co operate with us and make our jobs slightly easier, you will have some mercy.
We want the details of every mystic that you’re in contact with, who’re hiding in the outer spectrum. Spill it all right now. Or else …”

  His eyes wandered to the Stinger, which he casually held up in front of Ion.

  Ion gritted his teeth, summoning all of his willpower to keep himself steady.

  The officer pointed the tip of the ghastly gun to Ion’s chest.

  “One chance, if you wanna live.” he breathed into Ion’s ear. “Tell us everything. How many other mystics do you know of? How many are you in contact with? We know countless of your dear friends are still foolishly hiding out there. We want all of their locations and details. Do us this favour, and we might soften up on you just a little.”

  Scowling, Ion watched the gun hovering in front of him. And before he knew what was doing, he threw his head back and laughed.

  “Shoot me, then.” he yelled at the man, whose expression, taken aback, was hidden quickly. “I’ve faced far worse than that.” His eyes focussed on the gun tip sailing before him.