CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Mighty Pzolgon, we have secured the evil one as you desired. He is under guard in the atrium.”
Pzolgon looked up at his officer and let out a shriek of triumph. “At last my moment has come. Take me to him.” The officer escorted Pzolgon down to the lowest level of the dome and stood aside to let him enter the atrium first. Inside the giant chamber, in front of the Pzolgon’s throne, lay the unconscious body of Vincent. He approached cautiously; afraid he might wake suddenly and kill him after all. “Are you sure he is secured?” he asked the officers.
“Yes mighty Pzolgon,” came the unified reply.
He went and looked down at the body. He was confused. “But how can this be? He is just a man. He has not even any armour and his only defence is a primitive blade. Are you sure this is the evil one? There has been no mistake?”
“There is no mistake mighty Pzolgon,” the voice belonged to the visionary who had just entered the atrium. “This is the evil one foretold to us so long ago, the evil one that you will now destroy and in doing so, secure the coming of The Veil for all.”
Pzolgon looked at the visionary and smiled at the thought of destroying forever this evil one who would keep them from their destiny. He crouched down by Vincent’s side and looked closely at him. “He is a fine specimen for an uninitiated. Strong and powerful and determined. He has led us quite a dance has he not? We are a just and fair race and we will honour him as a fine opponent. Prepare the multitude for viewing. Everyone must be given the opportunity to look upon his face and meet the one who tried so courageously and failed to outwit the Transmortal Truth.” The officer left the room to carry out the orders.
Pzolgon ordered the atrium guards to remain on full alert in case Vincent awoke unexpectedly and caused a problem for them before the given moment when he would destroy him forever. Until that moment arrived there would be celebrations to honour the Pzolgon who helped secure the coming of The Veil. “This is a sacred site where the very first of the Pzolgons began to bring the gift of Transformation to the uninitiated. Those first early experiments may have failed but with our vastly superior knowledge and capabilities we have endured and become the mightiest of all races. I want this sacred site cleaned up and returned to its former glory to stand as an eternal testament to this day when we overcame the evil one. He will remain here forever and Transmortals of the future will make pilgrimage here to look upon his face and pay homage to the one who destroyed him. Give the orders.”
“Yes mighty Pzolgon.” The officer ran from the room and gave orders for the dome complex to be cleaned and repaired, for the vegetation to be cleared back for a mile in all directions and gave orders for new paintings to be added to the atrium walls depicting this most momentous of occasions. The Adherants worked tirelessly for twenty four hours, cleaning, repairing, clearing vegetation and restocking the complex. The power supply was checked and overhauled, the armoury restocked and the water supply was switched on supplying the life giving liquid to all parts of the complex. Vinbuk 3 has a hot climate and the extra workload made the working Transmortals very thirsty. They were very grateful to have such a large ready water supply of their own. There was no necessity for rationing the water, everyone could use as much as they wanted; the filtering and cleaning system meant that they would never run out of water. So they drank, and they drank, and they drank.
It took two days for the first of the Transmortals to start to feel the effects of the poison. After four days the first deaths occurred and sixty five percent of the Transmortal population showed symptoms. Panic set in and the scientists were working round the clock to find the cause of the sickness that was depleting their numbers by the hour. Pzolgon was furious as the death toll rose and by the time his visionary died, he was uncontrolled with rage. He spent hour after hour down in the atrium with the still unconscious Vincent, pacing up and down raving in his madness.
“You will not kill me Lilean; I told you on the day of your birth you would not see my downfall. It is you who lie here unconscious at my feet and yet still your infection spreads. I will not allow you to stand in the way of Transmortal Truth and thwart the coming of The Veil. You will not keep me from my destiny.” He raced up to the medical centre and spoke to the doctors. “Prepare the evil one for initiation at once,” he ordered.
The doctors looked at him in surprise. “Initiation mighty Pzolgon? You aren’t going to destroy him?”
“This is a sign from the Great Immortal; he wants the evil one to receive the great wisdom that he has denied all of his life. In his ultimate wisdom the Great Immortal wants the evil one to receive the Truth. A far greater victory lies in transforming the evil one to the right path than in simply wiping him out. Prepare him; I will take him through the transformation myself.”
“Yes mighty Pzolgon,” they obeyed as he turned and swept out of the room. The doctors brought the device down to the atrium. Vincent was laid upon a transformation table, and another empty one stood by the side ready to receive the Pzolgon. Once attached to the back of Vincent’s skull, the device would attach itself to the neural pathways deep inside his brain. The Pzolgon would then take himself into a deep trance state and link telepathically to the psychic sensors in the device. He would then transport Vincent to the very edge of The Veil and hold him there until his soul memory was wiped clean. Once his soul became an empty vessel, Pzolgon would channel the Transmortal Truth into his brain, before escorting him back to waking consciousness as a new Transmortal which would complete the transformation process.
“Attach the device to the evil one,” he ordered and his doctors obeyed. In twenty four hours the device would make the necessary neural pathway connections and the process could begin. During the course of those next twenty four hours more of the Transmortals died and ninety eight percent now displayed symptoms. Pzolgon was entirely convinced that this was caused by Vincent somehow and nothing any of his officers said would deter him from what he saw as his holy mission. It was also during those twenty four hours that the last surviving doctor finally found the cause of the sickness. By the time he discovered that the water was poisoned, all but the Pzolgon and he were dead and he himself had but hours to live. He dragged himself to his room and after making a last plea to the Great Immortal; he climbed into bed and waited to travel across to The Veil.
When the device finally indicated that the time for the transformation process to begin was upon them, Pzolgon himself finally showed symptoms. He climbed up onto the transformation table and took himself down into deep trance and reached for Vincent with his mind. Try as he might he could not find him, it was as if Vincent was not there waiting for him. For three days he searched the hinterland frantically for the evil one in order to escort him to the edge of The Veil, but he never found him. It was only as he found himself crossing over into The Veil for good that he saw Vincent for the last time and try as he might, he could not reach him with his mind, for he himself was now crossing into The Veil and Vincent was not. Vincent was back across the edge, watching him go.
The doctor awoke to find strangers in his room, gazing at him. He didn’t recognise them as Adherants and he reached out beseechingly to them. They didn’t look sick yet, so he tried to tell them about the water in the hope that they would remain healthy and continue serving the Pzolgon . He could hardly speak.
“Water,” he rasped. One of them brought him a glass of water and offered it to him obviously unaware of the poison. He used the last of his strength to try to warn them once more. “Death, water,” he gasped one last time, “water, death,” and as he found himself floating towards the edge of The Veil, he was surprised to find his own mighty Pzolgon already there.
“Vincent? Vincent. Wake up Vincent.” The voice drifted through the darkness and Vincent reached for its comforting familiarity. “Wake up brave warrior.” Much as he felt he wanted to just drift through the darkness, he found himself reaching for that voice
instinctively and as he got nearer and nearer to its source, the need for it became stronger and stronger and the desire to leave this darkness grew. Awareness finally reached him and the darkness began to lift until he found himself in the white fog of the hinterland between waking and, somewhere else.
“What happened? I was running, there were figures chasing me, the creature came.” Memories came to him little by little and he worked to piece them together in his mind. He looked up and saw Syra standing before him.
She reached out a hand to him. “Come Vincent, I have much to show you.” He stood and took her proffered hand and as he did so, he thought he felt electric sparks travel through him. The fog of the hinterland cleared and a new scene appeared to him. A beautiful panorama surrounded them and as he looked all around, he knew he didn’t recognise this place.
“Where are we?” he asked.
“We are at the place where the evil began so long ago. Look, here he comes.” She pointed and he looked. The young man ran through the trees, his dog at his heels. He was singing at the top of his voice and Vincent didn’t think he ever saw anyone so carefree and happy. The man dropped down and lay on the grass to look at the sky. His dog lay down beside him, panting.
“Oh Luzca, isn’t this the most beautiful day ever? I don’t ever want to leave this place. It’s the most perfect place ever. Don’t you agree old boy?” He reached over and scratched the dog’s ears. Vincent looked at Syra, he didn’t see anything evil here.
She caught his thoughts and answered before he could ask. “This is what was to become the evil you fought so bravely today. The same evil that wiped out so many races across the galaxy and almost wiped out ours. This happy, good man is soon to become the very first Transmortal. Watch, over there.” He looked and saw something hovering over the man’s face. He batted at it lazily with a hand but it returned and bit him and he jumped up in pain.
“Ouch, damn you bug,” he slapped it to the ground and stepped on it. “How dare you taint this beautiful day. Come Luzca, let’s go home to eat, race you.” The man and the dog raced off back the way they’d come.
Vincent looked at Syra, confused. “So he was bitten by a bug, so what?” She took his hand and they both turned around through one hundred and eighty degrees. As they turned, the scene changed again and he found himself inside a small room. There was a bed at one end and a window but nothing else. He went over to the bed and saw the same young man he’d just seen happy and carefree running through the trees. Now he looked entirely different though. His neck was swollen and black, he was sweating profusely and his eyes darted to and fro beneath his eyelids. His head thrashed from side to side and now and again he made unintelligible noises. Suddenly Vincent heard voices approaching and two people entered the room. A woman rushed over to the bed and sat and tried to soothe the young man’s turmoil. The other, a man put a hand on her shoulder and just looked at the young man as he thrashed.
“My dear you must realise there is little hope now. A month he has lain here like this with no sign of his fever breaking. He is hovering at the edge of death and all we can do is wait and pray. It is up to him now, him and God.” The woman burst into tears, huge racking sobs that made her whole body shudder. Suddenly the young man in the bed stopped thrashing and his eyes stopped darting beneath the lids. His mouth opened very slightly and Vincent heard him sigh deeply. He was gone. The woman screamed and flung herself down on the bed, shaking at the young man’s shoulders. She begged him to return, she screamed at God for taking him and little dog howled. Vincent felt Syra take his hand and as they once again turned through one hundred and eighty degrees, they found themselves in the same room, with the same bed and the same young man dead within it. It was night time and the stars twinkled in the sky. He was just about to enquire of Syra as to why they were here when he heard a gasp from the bed. He turned and looked and saw the young man again begin to thrash and gasp for air. His eyes opened wide and he thrust away the bed cover. As his breathing returned to normal Vincent noticed something different about him. He was now surrounded by a grey cloud.
“What is that cloud?” he asked.
“It is his energy field, his aura,” she replied. He also noticed the young man’s eyes were now very different from before. They no longer showed that spark of joy but had a lifeless quality about them. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul and it seemed to Vincent that if this were true, then this man had no soul. The young man got up out of the bed and stumbled from the room. Vincent heard shrieks from below and guessed the other residents of this home had just got the shock of their lives.
Once again Syra changed the scene and this time he found himself in what looked like a courthouse. The young man stood in one corner, the same dead eyes looking at the crowd that filled the room. A man spoke and everyone listened.
“From this day forward you are hereby banished from our sight. We cannot let you continue with your blasphemy and your evil ways. You are never to return to this kingdom.” Vincent looked at Syra questioningly and she took his hand and the scene changed. This time they were in a dingy basement room full of cobwebs and dust. It was very dark with only candles lighting the room and as Vincent strained to see, a scream rang out. He rushed towards the sound and saw the young man standing over a young boy. He held him firmly by the head, his fingers pressed against the boy’s temples. His eyes were closed and his mouth was moving but no sound came. The young boy screamed and struggled and then suddenly went limp. The young man laid the body down and continued pressing his fingers to the boy’s temples and speaking words that Vincent couldn’t hear.
“What is he doing to him?” he asked.
“He is transforming him. Already he has the madness that became his new truth. He is compelled to change others to be like he is and in his mind he feels he is giving them a great gift. These very early attempts were clumsy and many died at his hands. That’s why he was banished from his home world and came here. He returned changed as you saw. The process extended his life by many times its original allotted span and it gave him great psychic and telepathic powers, which he used to change others and in so doing, began to create the Transmortal Army. The process also changed his brain in many other ways and because of this, those who were transformed made huge leaps forward in technology, many hundreds and thousands of years before they would normally have done. They all felt that it was their duty to spread their gift to all worlds and all peoples as it is only when every human life has been transformed that their own heaven can come into being. A place they call The Veil.”
“But that’s crazy, you can’t just force your own beliefs onto someone,” he replied and she nodded.
“Yes Vincent it was madness and many suffered and died because of his madness. Look.” The scene changed again and he recognised where they were. They were back on the planet where Vincent found refuge and as they both watched, they saw the young man and a number of followers capturing the primitive indigenous humanoids. It was dangerous as Vincent knew these humanoids had vicious fangs and were in the habit of eating those they didn’t like.
He looked at Syra. “They came here and changed these humans too?” he asked and she nodded.
“Yes Vincent, they came here too and used the very same technique on these primitive, savage humanoids. They found them on a distant planet and brought them here to their base along with the trees and plants that were familiar to them and used them in early experiments with transformation. This was their first big mistake and one that helped you in your great task today. Once they had been captured they put them through the same transformation but when they returned they had changed in a very different way to the others. Look.” She pointed as the scene changed and Vincent found himself looking at a group of indigenous humans who had been transformed. Whereas before the procedure they were savage and aggressive, now they were passive and gentle.
He was amazed. “Bu
t how come?”
Syra smiled at Vincent as she explained. “You see Vincent, transformation means change. You take something as it already is and change it to something else; something which it was not before. The Transmortals we all know were savage and evil and forced their ways upon others whether they wanted it or not. Before they were changed, they were peaceful, good people. These humanoids however, started out savage and aggressive bullies who forced anyone who they came into contact with to adhere to their rules or die. Once changed, they could not be the same as they were before. A transformation had to occur and so it did and they returned from the procedure transformed from savages into peace loving, gentle people with great knowledge and insight who yearned to explore and meet new races and forge new relations with their neighbours.”
“How did the Transmortals deal with that?” Vincent asked, guessing it probably pissed them off mightily.
“They were very angry and tried to repeat the procedure to change them again but one cannot be transformed more than once. So they banished them back to where they found them and forgot them without realising that these new beings would become not only one of the mightiest of races but also the most friendly and insightful of neighbours to all who would encounter them. As with all Transmortals their life spans were dramatically enhanced, as were their brains and so they too made technological advances at an alarmingly fast rate. But always, everything they do is done for good and they are your friends now Vincent and today they will save your life and bring you back to waking consciousness. You know of them as the Drycenian Nation.” She smiled as he listened to all she told him.
“The Drycenians? They're Transmortals? So the Transmortals are my friends now?” he asked, incredulous.
“They are at this moment, also discovering that their race was created inadvertently by those early Transmortals. Until now they knew only that there was a gap in their history that they had never been able to fill. As they rush to your aid today, they will also find this missing piece of themselves. They are your greatest allies Vincent, trust them always. You will not survive without the help they rush to bring you as we speak.” Her tone was gentle as always but Vincent detected a tone he dare not ignore. She continued as the scene changed again. “Look, you made another friend who feels compelled to give you assistance.” He looked and saw something he remembered from the moment before he blacked out. He could see himself lying on the ground, a Transmortal standing over him aiming a weapon at his chest. From his right he saw her rush to his aid. The creature leapt at the Transmortal and together they rolled over and over for fifteen feet or more until finally coming to rest against a tree. The creature looked back at the prone figure of Vincent and long moments passed as their eyes met and understanding was passed. As the prone figure of Vincent lost consciousness, the creature sank her teeth into the Transmortal.
Vincent was awe struck. “I remember that happening before I blacked out. My god I wasn’t dreaming,” he exclaimed.
Syra smiled and shook her head. “No Vincent you weren’t dreaming, look.” She indicated behind and as they turned the scene changed and he found himself standing on the ridge above the dome complex. Most of the Transmortals were dead and dying from the poison and many more were stumbling around with advanced symptoms. Suddenly from all around him, creatures like the one who he encountered leapt from the trees and descended towards the domes. The Transmortals didn’t stand a chance against them with the sickness and many of them were alive as the creatures began eating them.
Vincent gaped. “My god look at them all,” he gasped and Syra smiled.
“Look, here are your new friends now.” She indicated and he looked up to see hundreds of men reach the ridge where he was standing. As they stood there more of the creatures joined them on the ridge and one in particular caught his eye. A female was standing beside one of the men on the ridge and as he watched, they both looked into each others eyes and a similar moment passed between them. A moment Vincent shared with one of the creatures himself, maybe even that same female. He was humbled beyond belief at the realisation that so many were willing and ready to help him, humans and animals alike. These men knew nothing about him yet here they were coming to save his life. And these creatures whose world he shared repaid the simplest of kindnesses on his part by helping him defeat this huge evil. He was greatly moved as Syra took his hand and once again the scene changed. He was in what looked like a rather sparsely furnished hotel room. Discarded clothes on the bed revealed that the room was occupied by a woman. The sound of water came to his ears and he automatically looked towards the open door to his left. He went to look and saw a small bathroom. A woman was in the shower and he automatically looked away, not wanting to intrude on her nakedness. Syra held his hand firmly and urged him.
“Do not fear Vincent, go on in.” He looked at Syra, who nodded encouragingly and he entered slowly, feeling like a voyeur as he saw the young woman standing in the shower. She was beautiful with long dark curly hair and a dragon tattoo on her back. As she turned around to face him he was shocked to see the Lilean star on her chest and he gaped at Syra, who smiled gently. “She carries the star Vincent, but she is not Lilean. It was given to her as a gift from the ancient ones who made a choosing at the same time as the prophecy came to them. They chose her to be the one to aid you in your great task and she accepted their gift willingly and proudly. She has suffered greatly Vincent and is still suffering due to giving you aid. Look.” As he watched he noticed the woman was weeping. Her gentle tears turned to huge sobs that shook her body as she slumped down in the shower. He crouched down and Syra put a hand on his shoulder. “She weeps for you Vincent. She weeps for your suffering but not her own and her only thought is of your safety and happiness. Come, let me show you.”
She bade him stand and took his hand and the scene changed again and he found himself back in the hinterland. He could see nothing at first but then a form began to take shape. A man lying down. As the shape became solid he recognised it as himself asleep on the bed in the dome. For a moment nothing happened but then another shape took form out of the mist and he saw the woman come up to his prone sleeping body. He saw her touch his face and whisper in his ear. He remembered the dream of the voice telling him someone was fighting for him and not to fear, that he wasn’t alone and that she cared. Then the woman bent forward and kissed him and all at once the prone figure of himself vanished. He remembered having woken with a start after that strange feeling of the woman’s energy enveloping him. He looked at Syra, surprised.
“It wasn’t a dream? That was her, the woman in the shower?” Syra nodded. “But how?” He shook his head; he couldn’t work out how she could have met him in the hinterland.
“The same way you are here now Vincent.” She allowed him the time to work it out for himself.
“But I’m here because you brought me here,” he looked puzzled but then the penny dropped. “So her guide brought her? She has a guide too?” he asked.
“Of course Vincent, all Lileans have an ancient one who walks with them, that is why we all carry the star.”
“But she isn’t Lilean, you said she isn’t Lilean.”
“She is a chosen one; she was given the star and a guide to walk with her. A very special guide.” Syra saw Vincent’s look but before he could ask, she changed the scene again. He found himself in a tunnel in complete darkness. Syra held his hand and all at once the darkness faded and he recognised the Moxal 3 mine.
“What the?“ he began but Syra shushed him.
“Watch Vincent.” As he watched he saw the woman again. She was accompanied by one of the Rangers, a guy he didn’t recognise. He took five packs of cigarettes from her and showed her into a room. Inside the room was a young man Vincent recognised from the dome complex. He was with the people standing on the ridge. What was he doing here? The woman was speaking, saying hello and telling him to be ready. Then she le
ft and immediately the scene changed. Vincent found himself outside of this same room once again. The woman approached silently and expertly downed the guard. She opened the door and called to the young man and together they set off through the tunnels.
“But how will she survive down there, she doesn’t have any goggles?” he asked.
“Her guide is with her leading the way.”
“Where is he? Why can’t I see him?” This was the question Syra hoped he wasn’t going to ask just yet.
“You will, soon. Be patient Vincent.” He watched as the pair made their way through the tunnels to freedom and he watched as they ran off away from the mine. Syra took his hand again. “There is one more scene I want to show you before you return.” As the scene changed he found himself on a planet he didn’t recognise. They were standing at the edge of a large crowd who were all looking at a man making a speech in front of them. Vincent was amazed to recognise the speaker.
“Donaldson? My god is that really Donaldson?” he asked and Syra nodded.
“Yes Vincent, it is.”
“That son of a bitch refused to help me all those years ago and helped get me locked in Cryo. I hope to god I meet him again.”
Syra put a hand on his shoulder. “Vincent, he has carried the shame of that event with him every moment of his life since and never a day has gone by when he hasn’t wished to go back and change things. That event changed him and changed his life and today something is going to happen that will allow him to do what he has so often wished to do. Watch.” As he watched he noticed someone in a hood suddenly dash from the bushes and leap at Donaldson, hitting him with the full force of their body and sending them both sprawling to the ground. Gunshots rang out and people panicked and screamed. The hooded figure took a package out from under their shirt and handed it to Donaldson.
“Shit. Oh my god, that’s my notebook. The one I gave Donaldson back in the mine that day,” he exclaimed and Syra nodded.
“Yes Vincent. She put her life danger to bring this to Donaldson once again in the hope that he would now do what he couldn’t do all those years ago. Listen to her,” Syra urged and he squatted down to catch the last of her words.
“Vincent is innocent. You must clear his name for at this very moment he is bringing to an end the evil that once walked here on this very spot. He has suffered so much for crimes he didn’t commit, use this and clear him. Please.” Vincent stood and watched her run and disappear. He was shocked and humbled all at the same time and didn’t know how to react.
As the scene faded and the mist returned once again, he turned to Syra. “What do I do now? Is it all over? Where is the woman? Is she okay?”
Syra smiled at so many questions. “Vincent, your task is far from over. You have fulfilled the prophecy given to the ancient ones so long ago and all of Lilea will honour your memory forever. Your new friends are at this minute saving your life. Go with them Vincent, for they race to bring you to freedom. Donaldson is also fighting for your freedom and waits for you. Be brave and trust them, don’t let her efforts be in vain because of your fears. Trust Vincent, trust them, trust her.” As Syra vanished into the mist Vincent felt himself being pulled violently backwards. As the white mist of the hinterland faded into blackness once again, he grew frightened. He held on to Syra's last words and searched for the light. When he saw the dim light streaming towards him, he relaxed into it and waited for consciousness to embrace him once again.
*****