CHAPTER 12
Vorkis
The Earth-human male was forty-two years old with thinning brown hair and a rounded gut. Splotches of dried, caked food crusted his upper sleeves and the front of his shirt. Two faded brown elastic bands stretched over his soft shoulders and clipped to his torn blue pants, apparently to hold them up.
Another vagrant, thought Vorkis. He will not be missed.
The frightened man kicked and screamed, fighting to free himself. Two Zorcons dragged him to the round yellow floor pad of the Telvor Beam that sat to the side of a full-sized standing mirror. They held him on top of the pad until a transparent beam swirled up from the mat and encircled him in a clear capsule. The two released the man and stepped back. Vorkis watched the Zorcons in the mirror. They were eagerly observing him, anxious to slurp up his fear, their frothing mouths craving for human meat.
Unable to move his arms and legs, he began pleading for his life, crying pitifully, begging for mercy. The two Zorcons raised their claws and moved closer, snarling and hissing, their white serrated teeth in stark contrast against the blood-red color of their mouths. A terrifying sight to any human. With lightning speed, they swung their claws and ripped open his torso. The man wailed in horror as they tore out his organs.
Off in the corner, Vorkis stood in silent amusement. The physical form of Zorcons was despicable but their habits were entertaining. He clasped his hands behind his back, content his plan was working. Soon he would have enough Pril to demand anything from the Federation, even the Federation itself.
His eye caught another mirror on the wall beside him. Although despising his Saleran heritage, he was proud of the nobility he radiated. He ran his fingers through his thick black hair, the waves settling perfectly into place, a Saleran trait he appreciated.
I will never see baldness.
He shifted his head side to side, checking his trimmed beard, which led to a mustache, circling his thin lips. He slid his fingers along his square jaw, a duly notable vainglorious attribute, and one exemplifying his authority. Puffing out his chest, he tugged on the hem of his dark gray tunic, feeling it straighten around his broad shoulders. Only his cousin could match his tall, menacing physique, and soon he would be gone.
Kalin was like an infected wound, an unending torment usurping his dreams. He had almost rid himself of the House of Altor and all those who followed him, but the one Saleran gnawing away at his soul was still alive.
Patience, he thought. I will smell his blood soon.
He heard the approaching footsteps of Taru, his Captain of the Guard. The tall, thin Zorcon stopped at his side and began whispering into his ear. Zorcons had a body temperature of 68.4 degrees, and Vorkis loathed the feel of the cold gel covering their skin, killing any Zorcon who dared touch him. He quickly turned his head and Taru gasped, immediately pulling back.
“Lead on,” said Vorkis. Missed another kill.
They left the feeding Zorcons and headed for his Avec, a lustrous black, domed-shaped vehicle. Taru touched a dulled square on the outside and instantly yellow static flared, dissolving into a six-foot wide entrance into the vehicle. The scent of perfumed air rushed into Vorkis’ nostrils and he inhaled the rich aroma. There was no need for everything to smell of Zorcons. The plush white seats faced each other; Vorkis sat in the rear and Taru took a seat across from him. The Avec lifted then zoomed down the tunnel.
“Are we ready?” asked Vorkis, keeping his expression stiff. The skeletal guise of Zorcons was never pleasing to look at.
“Yes, my lord,” said Taru, his voice clear and robotic. “All is complete.”
Taru’s glowing eyes were a fierce red, like a monster of nightmares. With the star charts stolen from Salera, he knew which planets contained the best eating humans, and these rebels were obedient, provided he fed them live meat. Earth-humans were an easy capture and he would be sure to take enough of them in supply.
“Excellent,” said Vorkis. “And how is our spy doing?”
“Your servant is gathering the information as we speak,” said Taru. “The Quasar will soon be yours.”
Vorkis nodded. His first plan failed with the survival of Kalin but this one would enunciate his superiority. It was flawless.
Red lights blinked passed him. The interior of the complex was inlaid with NBs but the closer the planet came to implosion, the more difficult it was to control the magnetism. Many were faltering.
The Avec drove into a large, spacious cavern and stopped. The room was empty of furniture except for an ebony desk, a small disposal, and his Sarvin light, the latest means of healing and cleansing oneself; a must for survival amongst Zorcons. Hundreds of NBs netted the walls and ceiling. He stepped out of the vehicle and the ground shuddered beneath his feet. A cloud of dust drifted down.
“The implosion is on schedule, my lord,” said Taru.
“Good,” said Vorkis, restraightening his tunic.
He sat behind the shiny desk, a replica of Kalin’s on the Quasar. Several recessed orbs emerged and a holo displayed the rotating planet Earth. He grinned at the thought of what the Earth-human General was devising for his world. Vorkis’ original plan to destroy the planet began with an experiment. Several REMs were used to uplift the Earth’s crust in one of the deep trenches, and the results were more than what he’d expected—they were fantastic. But this Earth-human General was going to blow up his own world. Vorkis smiled wider. All he had to do was sit back and savor the show.
Ten Zorcons marched into the cavern escorting a handcuffed Zorcon. They stopped and the guards surrounded Commander Yan who was visibly shaking. Yan’s knees knocked audibly. Vorkis approached him, exhilarated at the man’s terror.
“How did a helpless Earth-human female escape you?” asked Vorkis, keeping his stare fixed on the Zorcon’s eyes.
“We did all we could, Your Highness,” implored Yan. Pink beads of sweat sprinkled his transparent forehead. “Our NBs failed in the tunnel. The Oridians attacked and I barely escaped. The vicious animals slaughtered two of your loyal servants, Sire.”
“Your stupidity is what killed those men,” said Vorkis, “and you allowed the largest piece of Pril ever discovered to slip through your fingers. This is treason.”
Yan fell to his knees pleading. “My lord, she is in the complex. Please allow me to find her. I will not fail you again.”
Anger overwhelmed Vorkis. He swung his arm and backhanded Yan in the face, knocking him to the floor.
“No one defies me,” he said through gritted teeth.
With one hand, he lifted Yan by his gray tunic and threw him across the room. He smashed into the wall; the sounds of cracking bones resonated through the chamber. Yan went limp and slid to the ground on his side. Vorkis kicked him onto his back and stood, straddling him. Yan’s eyes were wide open in terror.
“You’re right,” said Vorkis in a calm voice. “You will not fail me again.”
He grabbed Yan’s neck and squeezed, compressing his airway, watching as the guard’s transparent skin changed to an opaque purple. Vorkis reeled his arm back and plunged his fist into Yan’s chest. He held it inside, moving it about, tearing at his innards as he watched the crimson eyes slowly whiten. When he extracted his hand, Yan’s pumping heart was in it. White blood sprayed everywhere, drenching Vorkis’ black pants and gray tunic.
He stepped to the side of the corpse and flung the still-beating heart at the guards. The soldiers jumped back, terrified, huddling together for safety.
They’re cowards who can only serve, thought Vorkis. “This is what happens to those who fail me. Make sure everyone knows this.”
He glanced at Taru, who snapped his fingers. Two guards rushed over to the mutilated corpse and dragged it off with the other soldiers following them out the door. Taru remained. Vorkis picked up the fluttering heart and tossed it into the small green can beside the desk where it disintegrated in a puff of smoke. His gaze went down his body to his black boots. He hated Zorcon filth. In the corner of the cavern, shining do
wn from the ceiling was the hazy amber glow of his Sarvin light. He stood under it and raised his arms horizontally. The light turned a deep orange, the warm, soothing sensation caused tingles to dance on his skin throughout his whole body. Of all Saleran creations, this one was his favorite because of its ability to regenerate cellular growth, thereby healing wounds and, of course, purging any filth. A satchel filled with Sarvin Crystals always remained in his pocket, for many desired his power.
A ping sounded and a holo rose up from his desk. It was Maruke, Taru’s cousin. Vorkis nodded at Taru to take the message.
“Speak, Maruke,” said Taru, standing behind the desk.
“Sir, Kalin and Marante are in the complex. What are your orders?”
“Do nothing,” said Vorkis loudly, approaching the desk. He placed his hands on the table and leaned in closer to the holo. Maruke was just as grotesque as Taru. “Do not kill Kalin. I repeat, do not kill Kalin. Keep strict watch of his movements, but do not kill him. Do you understand?”
Repeating his orders was a necessary habit; sometimes they just didn’t get it.
“Yes, Your Highness,” said Maruke. “I will obey.”
The holo disappeared and Vorkis sat in his chair.
“Finally, to be rid of my enemy at last,” he said. He swung his feet on the desk. “Soon, I will be the King of Salera and all that knowledge will be mine. Taru, you’re looking at the man who will destroy the Federation. Does this please you?”
Taru bowed to Vorkis. “Yes, my lord. The destruction of the Federation indeed pleases me. May I ask a question?”
Taru knows his place, thought Vorkis. “Yes, go on.”
“How, my lord, can you access the codes to Salera’s planetary shield? Kalin has altered its configuration; if he is terminated, the changes will die with him.”
“Salera’s defenses can be broken, but time is what I need. With Kalin dead, I will have this. Have you located the girl?”
“No, Your Highness,” answered Taru. “She and her companion continue to elude us. I believe the concentration of Pril she is wearing is interfering with our signal, but we will find her. She is the only female loose in this complex.”
“Indeed,” said Vorkis, sitting forward, “but we must find her before Kalin does. I don’t want them to meet. Do you understand?”
“Yes, my lord,” said Taru. “I will obey.”
“Now fetch me the General. I must have a word with him.”
“Yes, my lord.” Taru bowed and left the room.
Vorkis rested back in his chair. He tapped a pink orb on the desk and a holo appeared. He’d been studying this Oridian nest for over two months. The Zorcon word meant “twisted, dangerous one”, an appropriate name. The malformed creatures were accustomed to a lightless world, their eyes glowing white as they shuffled about the vast chamber. A moving river split their domicile in two. On one side, the female cows cared for the eggs and newborn calves. The other side was the dwelling of the male bull Oridians.
A female Oridian standing ten feet tall hobbled over to a section of wall, her red crest of softened flab showing her distinction, the egg layer. Vorkis named her One, for she was the strongest and largest, the Alpha-cow. The hunched creature turned around and glanced across the water. No females dared to pass into the domain of the bulls for fear of their voracious appetites. She shifted her gaze to the young hatchlings far from the water’s edge and near the back wall where older cows tended the calves, their small bodies full of energy and bouncing about.
Instinct is what leads her, yet she is shrewd and cautious, thought Vorkis. Qualities that have kept her alive.
Six weeks ago, this female assumed her high position by butchering the previous cow while she slept. After tearing out her heart, she held it up for all to see, displaying her claim as their new leader. Afterwards, she methodically went around the cavern slashing open the hard red bulbs partially embedded in the rock face, killing the unborn fetuses of her predecessor. Of the live nest, only those who did obeisance survived; the others were slaughtered and eaten. A meal she readily shared thereby strengthening her authority.
A display of power with outstanding results, thought Vorkis, remembering his gratification with Yan.
One turned around and faced the wall where her eggs lay. Her long black tongue carefully slid over the ovules, coating them with a thick slime containing all the necessary nutrients. A juvenile female, a fourth of One’s height, hopped over to her excited and squealing. One was extremely unpredictable. Sometimes she was the loving mother with her calves, tenderly playing with them, however, other times he’d seen her tear them to pieces without provocation. She growled at the young one, her lips quivering over dagger-like teeth that snapped at the calf. It yelped and stumbled back frightened, then ran off to the nest.
Again, One suspiciously eyed the males. Vorkis had seen her slay many of her bull companions after mating. Towering over them, it was an easy victory. She hobbled to the river’s edge, her long arms dragging on the ground. Four males were feasting on a mutilated Zorcon; their bodies glistened with moisture, a sign of hunger. Normally they would eat large insects but lately Zorcons had become their favorite food. Bones and torn appendages lay scattered on the earthen floor. They ate briskly, keeping their stare on One.
They would love to kill her, he thought.
One turned about and made her way to another section of wall at the far end of the cavern. She resumed her egg feeding. Vorkis noticed a male hatchling, no more than three weeks old, hiding behind an outcrop. He sat up anxiously and watched the youngster cautiously crawl towards the waterway, his body sweating with hunger. The fledgling stood up and quietly slipped into the water up to his neck. From the far nest, a guardian female called with several loud whoops. One yelped and dashed to the riverbank, knuckle-running at a tremendous speed, desperate to save her calf. On the water’s edge, she stood straight up, her hump protruding like a giant swell in her back, a massive animal calling for her infant with howls and yawps. Other cows assembled beside her and called, but the calf was defiant and dipped under the water. Vorkis saw it quietly crawl out on the opposite side, hiding behind a boulder close to the feeding bulls.
The baby reached out and snatched a severed hand, pulling it back to him, caressing it to his chest like a gifted prize, nervously looking about.
One stopped her calls and slowly backed away.
A male Oridian was squatting on the boulder staring down at the little one. He leapt onto the calf and dug his teeth into the soft skin of its shoulder. The youngling screamed and dropped the hand, wildly writhing in fits of pain, trying to free itself. The bull wrapped its large hand around the calf’s head and with one pull, ripped it off the body. He held it high in the air, waving it about and screeching, proud of his victory, then angrily flung it across the river. It bounced, landing near the feet of One. She growled at the male and kicked the head into the water. As it floated away, the other bulls joined in on the kill, tearing at the decapitated body. One hopped away, squawking at the other cows, who immediately returned to their work.
Vorkis tapped the orb and the holo disappeared.
He always enjoyed a good laugh.