Under a Starless Sky novel Chapter 28

Loxy disappeared. Candace sat up. She let out a scream and laid back down. He now understood. He couldn’t track Loxy because she was subliminal. Interacting with Candace, especially carrying an empathic response to her level of pain, was going to take up too much of his focus to be able to sustain communication with Loxy.

“Try not to move. You broke it,” Shen said.

“No, no, no,” Candace said. “You can’t be here.”

“The correct response is thank you,” Shen said.

“You don’t understand. You’re just a boy…”

“You’re supposed to do this ritual alone, in private, in the dark,” Shen said. “No help.”

Candace forced herself to sit up. She turned so her back was against the tree. Her eyes communicated horrible pain, but she settled into it. Her back to the tree.

“I promise, no one will know,” Shen said.

“I will know,” Candace said.

“Lie,” Shen said.

“I can’t,” Candace said.

“Everybody lies,” Shen said.

“I don’t,” Candace said.

“And I rest my case,” Shen said. “Look, Candace. Lying is an art. It’s an act of discernment. You will not survive without help. That’s it.”

“If it’s my turn to die, that’s it,” Candace said.

A chirp sounded the forest.

“Fuck. Get me on my feet,” Candace said.

Shen got her on her foot, as if that would make a difference. The Irk emerged from the shadow into the fire light. It hissed. Shen’s hand went into his pocket. He touched the orb. The forest went from night dark to blue light. He saw two other birds, just in the shadows. The three ropes were still hanging, the closest length shortened because he had robbed from it.

“Can you make it to the rope if I hold them off?” Shen asked.

“It won’t make any difference,” Candace said. “They’ll ‘Sleep’ us both before I get half way up.”

“Probably,” Shen said. “But in a moment, climb as high as you can and tie yourself."

“You’re not going to take on Irks,” Candace said.

Shen stepped forwards. The Irk in front of him hissed, and kicked the tree behind it. It wasn’t a sleeper tree. It came forwards. The other two came out of the blue darkness and into the firelight. They were illuminated with heart light, and blue light, while simultaneously ghostly lit by campfire, which was an odd way of seeing them. The darkness beyond made this seem like a movie set- the only things in the world were the things that were right here right now. He heard Sacagawea quote inspiration: ‘today is a good day to die.’ All three birds screeched. The first one was a full adult. The other two looked like adolescents.

Shen reached into his bag, praying to pull out a firearm. He pulled out a Torch. It baffled him, even though he recognized it. It was the golden silver torch that had been awarded to Emmitt Sheehan, prior to his acceptance into Space Force. ‘Emmitt’ was fiction, he was also truth; Emitt was Tammas Parkin Arblaster-Garcia’s reincarnation. Tammas was John. Jon was John, one layer removed. Suddenly, every past life, every tangential dream, every story of him made sense, in a universal, comprehensive way- it was the sudden understanding of a thousand past lives bringing together their strengths, their weaknesses, and their hard earned wisdom. For the briefest moment he had a flash that he knew everything, he was connected to everything, and he knew, no matter what the outcome here was, things would be alright. The trees would welcome him home. ‘Aeneas Rising,’ was a parallel to the rising of James T Kirk. Kirk was Aeneas. The Federation was Rome. Edith Keeler was Queen Dido. The Torch was many things, a Soul’s Light, a psychic amplifier, a friend, a pocket starship, a weapon... He brought it up, staring at it in disbelief. The words ‘Solarchariot’ was written on it.

The Torch was alive in his hand. He heard Loxy’s voice in his head. “Welcome back, Traveler. I got you.” Loxy, his Loxy, had put a copy of her personality in the Torch. The Torch was AI. The Torch was Space-Force tech, something old, something borrowed, something new. The crystal inside amplified the psychic emanations of the wielder. It could replicate matter on demand. It could move matter with a thought. It was the Torch, the wielder was the Light.

Shen lowered the Torch slightly, staring across it at the Irk. “Depart, or you will die.” He said this firmly. He was the Dog Whisperer. Animal only knows one thing, the energy you project. He was not projecting fear. He was projecting strength. He was projecting love. Sentient or not, the Irk understood the energy, if not the words. It was clearly baffled. He did not wish to harm it, but if it chose battle, whether that was calculated or instinct, Shen could not compete without escalating this to the point that one or more would die.

A fourth Irk made itself known. It came from behind the tree. Shen closed his eyes, and saw the world from a higher perspective. Candace was frozen against the tree. The head of the Irk stretched past her, its neck was white with freckles and had patches of down and hair. Had she a sword, she could have decapitated it. Its head sported the feathers of a male, hanging like antennae.

“Depart, or you will die,” Shen said again.

The adult female facing Shen came forwards. The male rushed her and attacked. The other two females came at the male. Shen’s torch came to life, a loud report sounded the forest and echoed; a golden blade of light severed the nearest Irk’s head. The head fell, and the bird kept running. The second fell by sword light as well, the body simply dropping where it was. The third to fall was due to death by a male Irk. He had taken the female Irk to the ground, biting its neck, and pinching it shut with one claw. The female scratched and struggled; they rolled, but she succumbed. The male lumbered up, clumsily. It coughed like it might die, hacking like a cat with fur ball lodged in its throat, and then spit tar on the female. It then turned to Shen. It came forward, tentatively, lowering its head to ground level. It made the softest of noises.