Morning Part 2

Morning Part 1 The Sunset Chronicles

Sunset’s ears pulled back to point behind her. She stared at the numbers on the desk and growled.

“If only algebraic equations felt fear. Then you’d get somewhere.” Scarcely the size of Sunset’s head, the holographic instructor materialized on a chair and sat with his legs crossed. His tiny hand stroked his thick black beard.

“You’re a great help as always, Muhammad.” Sunset sat up straight and folded her arms. Her skin itched in her uniform and though she’d grown accustomed to the voice in her head, she still wanted to flick her ears when he spoke.

“You’re right, my mistake.” He stood and his seat disappeared. “You have phenomenal spatial reasoning skills. Try instead to visualize the problem instead of looking at the numbers.”

Sunset sighed. She visualized multiple objects, moved some around, and tapped one of the answers. A round of cheers and several colorful explosions erupted from the desk and filled the room.

“Congratulations, Sunset. You’ve passed basic algebra!” Muhammad clapped his hands and smiled.

“Am I ready for the Academy?”

“Don’t you worry about that. The purpose of this course is to teach the basics of how we instruct cadets. The real instruction will come when you arri—”

A soft ding interrupted Muhammad and he froze mid-sentence.

“Approaching O’Neil Cylinder, prepare for arrival. Cadet Sunset, report to Agent Berkley at the loading dock in T-minus three minutes.” The voice in her head still rattled her, but her heart rate spiked with excitement. Or fear. It was difficult to tell the difference.

She swiped the program closed on her smart bands and sprinted out of her quarters. With her heart thumping in her chest—which as she learned was a tripartite structure—she dodged past humans and other beings on her way to the dock. Her shoulder tapped an absent-minded scientist in a blue uniform and she had to spin and push off the wall to regain her balance. The doors to the dock opened and she screeched to halt once through them. Ana and the other Defendrons waited by their shuttle in rock formation while a crew of various officers and technicians ate lunch nearby. Agent Berkley glanced up and waved with a smile. Sunset offered a crisp salute and marched over.

“At ease, Cadet. It’s just chow-time,” Berkley said. Sunset relaxed her posture, though with some unease. She didn’t recognize the mixed company with Agent Berkley and didn’t know who was a superior. “If it helps, I’m the ranking officer here. Please, relax. We have a few minutes before we leave anyway.”

“Thank you.” Sunset let out a breath of relief. She absorbed their conversation as they chatted among themselves, picked at bits of food, and accepted their offer of a drink. None of it tasted familiar, but the hot, bitter, and dark liquid left her feeling odd, almost anxious, like she wanted to bounce her legs.

A loud ding echoed in the open space. “All personnel, prepare for arrival.” Sunset leaped to her feet while the agent and others remained seated. Sunset’s ears twitched and her hands grasped at the air, unsure of what she should do. Sit back down, or wait for them to stand? She glanced over at the Defendrons and wished she could take them with her. Ana’s curt yet insightful comments would be a missed break from her studies.

Agent Berkley stretched, stood, and nudged Sunset from her thoughts. “Come on, let’s get ready.”

They led Sunset to the edge of the dock. During normal spaceflight, the only thing separating the crew from space was a bright blue force-field. During their long journeys, a solid door enclosed them. Sunset waited in front of the vast, gleaming white metal at attention, not because she expected to be greeted with a superior, but instead to manage the fidgeting nerves.

Agent Berkley grinned. “You look just like I did when I went to the Academy.”

“How do I look?”

“Terrified, excited, anxious.”

“Correct.”

With a chuckle, Berkley rested their hand on Sunset’s shoulder and gave her a short squeeze. Though she didn’t understand humans’ penchant for physical affections, she returned the favor by putting her hand on their leg. Agent Berkley laughed and withdrew their hand.

“Someday, Sunset, you’ll figure it out.”

“I fear I may have to specialize in your physical gestures before I do.” Sunset flicked her ears and cast Agent Berkley a sideways smile.

A buzz interrupted them and the forcefield formed. A klaxon sounded and the doors to the hanger cracked open.

Sunset gasped.

The doors revealed a wall of slowly rotating shiny silver metal. She could scarcely see the stars to either side of the cylinder, and soon the structure consumed the entire field of view. A small panel of the distant wall opened and the closer they approached, the bigger the opening looked until it also filled her vision. It was only as they entered did Sunset grasp the size of the behemoth when such a tiny portion could fit their entire ship. With a rattle, the ship came to a shuddering halt. A walkway the width of their dock telescoped out from a distant wall and connected to the ship, and their forcefield disappeared just as a double door at the other end opened.

“Ready?” Agent Berkeley asked.

“Not even slightly,” Sunset said through tight vocal cords. She cleared her throat and her gills whished.

“That’s the spirit.” Agent Berkley took off at a brisk walking pace and Sunset followed just behind.

Each step raised her pulse, the dry air made her skin itch, and tension held her breath, all while a creeping doubt climbed up the sides of her neck. Perhaps she had speared a bigger fish than she could kill. No choice now but to hold on tight. Sunset straightened her posture and caught up to walk in stride with Agent Berkley down the never-ending plank. A cadre of people waited at the entrance, including Admiral Gleeson, whose imposing figure felt all the more impressive given that his height matched the severity of his demeanor. His permanent scowl and greyed eye followed Sunset as she approached, reaching only chest height at full attention. Behind him, two women held themselves with a regal posture. Shoulders low, head high, and arms languishing at their sides, it wasn’t until Sunset squinted that she realized they looked identical. They had the same dark grey hair with streaks of black and light brown skin with wrinkles around their eyes and lips. She had so many questions. The only differences she discerned was the color of their earrings—one purple, one green—otherwise in the same decorated uniform. They smiled in unison as she neared and Agent Berkley snapped a salute. Sunset hastily followed.

“Welcome to the O’Neill Cylinder, Cadet Sunset,” Admiral Gleeson said.

“Thank you, sir.”

“At my sides are your introductory instructors. They will prepare you for the entrance test to the Academy. Please afford Doctors Bharati” —the woman with green earrings nodded— “and Shruti” —the woman in purple waved— “Pillai. Through them you will gain an insight for the arts and the sciences to pick up where you left off. You will have several days of study, after which you will take your entrance exams. Understood, Cadet?”

“Yes, sir.” Sunset’s croaked voice barely eked out of her quickly closing throat.

“Don’t worry, Sunset. We’ll take good care of you,” Dr. Bharati, whose eyes matched the green of her earrings, reassured her with a warm smile. Her accent, though light, put Sunset at a strange form of ease. It was similar to her computer’s accent.

“Yes, don’t worry about this one.” Dr. Shruti tipped her head at the admiral. “Really, he’s more like an old, tired, grizzly bear.”

Gleeson’s throat rumbled with a low growl. “Even old grizzlies still bear claws.”

“What’s a bear?” Sunset asked, and the twins erupted into laughter. The admiral’s frown deepened, but a twitch at the corner of his lip gave away his mirth.

Agent Berkley joined in on their laughter and Sunset’s nerves soothed as she cracked a hesitant smile. Though confused at what was so funny, it was a welcome relief to see even the most serious were capable of humor.

“Come, Cadet,” Dr. Shruti said with a wave. Bronze hoops dangling on her wrist clinked and the glint of rings on her hand flashed in the bright light.

Sunset, Agent Berkley, and Admiral Gleeson followed the two sisters down the hallway toward another door. A robot skittered past Sunset on spindly arachnid legs spraying something on the floor with a strange smell.

“How do you look the same?” Sunset asked.

“We’re twins. We were born at the same time from one mother.”

Sunset stopped. The entire retinue took several steps before realizing they had left her behind. Sunset’s mouth hung ajar, and her eyes flit between the twins. Her gills flared open and she breathed through all of her orifices at once.

“Are you okay?” Agent Berkley asked.

They stepped closer to Sunset and reached for a hand. Sunset uttered several sounds nobody had heard before, including herself. The twins furrowed their brows and one reached for her SMART bands and ordered medical help.

Finally, Sunset blurted, “Your poor mother!”

Stunned shock froze everyone in place. Even Admiral Gleeson’s face twisted in confusion. At once, Agent Berkley and the sisters erupted into raucous fits of hysterical laughter, much to Sunset’s baffled horror. Between bursts of guffaws and streaming tears, the sisters both grasped Sunset’s arms and led her the rest of the way down the hallway.

“Our mother would have been delighted to hear that,” Dr. Shruti said.

“Yes, she made sure to remind us frequently as children of our birth. But you needn’t worry. She was fine and healthy and lived a long and beautiful life.” Bharati patted Sunset’s hand with her free one. “You’ll learn more about that area of the sciences once we get to basics of anatomy: the study of bodies and how they function.”

Though Sunset’s head swam with a series of questions—like how does someone study a body? She studied the bots by breaking them apart, and Muhammad only taught her the basics of math and geometry. Would she have to cut open other creatures? Do people volunteer to be studied? Would she then have to kill them to open them?

More questions swirled, but her mind blanked when the doors at the end of the hall opened. They stepped into an elevator encased by glass and on the other side of it was a sight she could never have dreamed of. Nature stretched for miles and rose up along the sides of the cylinder into an atmosphere of clouds. Trees she’d never seen, grass that resembled the stalks on Takarra, crystalline rivers, and even animals that took to the skies flit past her as the elevator descended. Any doubt she carried for her decision to leave her home evaporated. The wonder and possibilities presented in that cylinder cemented the path for her.

When she reached the ground floor, the glass slid away and a small vehicle with no roof or driver rolled to a stop in front of them. Admiral Gleeson and Agent Berkley bid their farewells. Sunset and her instructors loaded into the car in the rear seat and the vehicle pulled away down a winding road. Sunset delighted in watching the various animals in the distance, and several flying creatures soared above her where she caught a glimpse through the clouds.

Along the ride, the sisters explained the upcoming ceremony where she would meet a few of her classmates before being scurried away to begin her private tutoring. It was customary for new members of the Astrophysical Survey to be brought up to standard to pass exams. Dr. Bharati also confided in Sunset that exams were not a pass to enter, but rather an assessment to decipher where her studies would need to be concentrated in order to support those areas in which she might need help. Upon hearing the news, relief flushed the simmering anxiety Sunset carried in her shoulders.

The vehicle arrived at a large, multi-building compound with giant windows, a tower peeking out from the back side of the structure, and a massive courtyard with a fountain, benches, and patches of short bushes cut with meticulous care leading up to the main entry. Far to her left, a handful of people entered through a wall of thick dark green leaves. Dr. Shruti explained it was a maze, and somewhere within the maze was a serene pool where students often went to study or simply enjoy a bit of tranquility.

Sunset marveled at the blooming foliage arranged in dazzling colors interspersed through walking paths. As alien as the trees were to her, they were still instantly recognizable as trees. To find something both strange and familiar set Sunset’s mind spinning. Vines rose and twisted around a latticework of branches with purple petals. A buzzing sound by her ear startled her and a creature with blurring wings barely the size of her claw flit past her. It was no wonder that with all manner of creatures capable of flight that humans took to the skies and claimed the heavens.

“Even we still sit in awe of this beauty,” Dr. Bharati said. Her sister hummed and nodded in agreement. “To experience the wonder of nature in such a fashion when we still float in space is difficult to comprehend, even if we understand the science behind it.”

“Yes. But you’ll have plenty of time to absorb the majesty of the courtyard in the future. Let’s get a move on or we’ll be late to meeting your squadmates. As much as my sister loves to indulge in our cultural tardiness, I prefer punctuality.”

With that, Shruti grasped Sunset’s hand and led her toward the glass entry, past a towering fountain, and for a moment, Sunset thought she could see a rainbow within the mist coming from some aquatic animal. Within the shuffle of people heading into the massive structure, her breath caught in her throat when she realized there were other non-humans present—and she was heading right toward them.

From behind, the shortest one had massive, wide shoulders and long, thick appendages—were they tentacles?—that fell down to his mid-back. The tip of one scrunched and the being turned. His face was recognizable as one, but wide, and his black eyes reminded Sunset of some deep-water predators. When he laughed, his cavernous voice boomed and vibrated in her chest even from a distance. The dark-skinned person next to him laughed as well. Her hair fell across her shoulders in shining black ringlets, and if she didn’t notice the deep ridges along her brow, Sunset would have assumed she was human. The short, stocky one noticed the trio approaching and waved.

Another person stood behind the tall woman with long hair. He stepped out from behind her and his beaming smile sent Sunset’s spirits soaring. A trill of joy escaped her lips and her ears pricked up and forward. She rushed to him and halted inches away, suddenly unaware of the human social protocol for the situation. So, she saluted. Thankfully, Román returned the salute and smiled.

“Looks like you’ve been practicing,” he said.

“Thank you, I have.” She eased into a more relaxed posture. “I thought you were on a mission. Why are you here?”

“Well, I was in the area.” He winked. What did that mean? “Also, Captain Williams told me you entered the Academy and I thought you might like to see a familiar face before you’re thrust into the unknown.”

Sunset stammered, searching for the right words to say. How does one express gratitude, surprise, and anxiety all at once? “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Anyway, I was just talking with your new squadmates that will be joining you on the more traditional learning track.”

“Hello.” The tentacled man’s thundering voice startled Sunset. “I’m Lon Kammeram.”

“I’m Nochtali.” The woman’s voice danced through Sunset’s ears like an evening breeze.

“I’m Sunset.”

“Pleased to meet a Takarran in the flesh!” Lon said.

“You…know about us?”

“Yes, word travels fast, and even faster for those of us who will be training with you,” Nochtali said. “I am a Dionysian.”

“I am Dogarri,” Lon said.

“Usually, these squads are formed with four members,” Cisneros said and glanced at the instructors.

“They are,” Dr. Bharati said. “We are currently waiting on our—oh, there he is.”

She pointed to a red-haired human man rushing through the doors toward them. Huffing with exertion, he stumbled to halt in front of the group and doubled over to catch his breath. Sweat dripped from his brow and his long hair matted his face. He held up a finger, heaved a few more breaths, then straightened out with a groan. His green eyes shifted to shallow-ocean-blue when he turned to examine everyone.

“Hello, I’m Ariel, it’s nice to meet you, Sunset, Nochtali, and Lon.”

The group returned their greetings and Román asked, “Why aren’t you using the interface for the Academy?”

Ariel’s mouth twisted. “I am a deeply kinesthetic learner, and we have a one-point-thirty-four percent higher retention rate using a more traditional method. As such, I want to ensure I get the most out of the Academy as humanly possible. Apologies if that is insensitive to anyone here.”

“Not at all, I’m thrilled to have you on the squad,” Nochtali said.

“Aye,” Lon affirmed.

Sunset twirled both ears and remembered that humans shrug to show indifference.

“Perfect,” the twin doctors said in unison. “Well, now that you’ve all made your introductions, I’m afraid it’s time for Sunset to begin her pre-test education. Thank you all for coming and we will see you at the induction ceremony in a week.”

The group bid their farewells and everyone, save the teachers and Scout Cisneros, stayed behind. He offered up a fist, and this gesture she knew well. After the bump, Román saluted and took his leave— with one last piece of advice. “Don’t let your ego get ahead of you. If there’s one thing that will set you back, it’s that.”

She nodded, despite not fully understanding what he meant. When he was out of earshot, she turned to her instructors. “What’s ego?”

“We’ll cover that in our lessons,” Dr. Shruti said.

They led her away deep into the academy, where she was shown to a private quarters complete with climate-controlled settings so she would be comfortable. The room was scarcely the size of the one she had on the ship, but it was a short trip to another larger room that served as their study hall for the next several days. The doctors weaved their expertise in art and science so well, and using similar technology that Greg, the encephaloid, used to recreate climate, they did the same to facilitate her basic learning. Since Muhammed had taught her the basics of algebra, the twins covered advanced maths, music, and artistic expression. When they got to astronomy, that’s what sent her mind spinning. The sheer, dizzying size of space, uniqueness of planets, and types of stars and celestial bodies twirled through her imagination like the myriad galaxies that existed.

Each day of learning began early and in earnest, ending with Sunset collapsing into sleep as soon as she reached her quarters—and yet still she wanted more. By the end of the week, she entered the room to take her placement exam.

“Remember, Sunset,” Dr. Bharati said, “these exams are not to pass, they are to measure. The questions will become increasingly more difficult until you fail, so don’t be alarmed when you reach those. Simply do your best.” She placed a comforting hand on Sunset’s back and left the room. A familiar face materialized.

“Welcome to the test, Cadet,” Muhammad said. “Ready?” Sunset nodded. “Good. We begin with trigonometric identities.”

Sixty-three minutes later, the exam ended and the SMART bands on her wrists beeped and buzzed.

“Thank for completing the PLAS Academy Entrance Exams. Your scores have been forwarded to the appropriate instructors. You have been granted Academy Access Use for the remainder of your time. Congratulations, and good luck.”

Sunset tapped on the screen and several menu options unlocked with a ding. Sunset had no time to examine the options or consider her anxiety about her scores because her instructors whisked her away and back to the main hall of the Academy. She wound through several hallways with moving digital paintings of ships, men performing heroic acts, and the symbols for the PLAS until she found a huge room with seats on stairs formed in a half circle.

Hundreds of students, mostly humans, filled the auditorium. Ariel, Lon, and Nochtali greeted her with waves. She glanced back at her teachers, forlorn to leave their tutelage and nervous about moving forward. What did her scores reveal? What kind of special accommodations will they need for her? What did her squadmates score, and did they also have to go through that kind of learning? She took a spot next to Ariel and he offered her a snack, which she accepted.

A swell of music rose over the murmuring, chatting, and sporadic guffaws of the crowd. The tiered seats sloped down to a curved stage. Admiral Gleeson stepped out from behind a wall and took his place at the center. A giant three-dimensional projection of him rose behind the admiral so the audience could better see him. Gleeson and his digital doppelgänger saluted. The cadets returned in perfect unison. Pride tugged at Sunset’s heart for nailing the timing.

“Welcome to the Academy, Cadets.” Something amplified his already piercing voice and it reverberated through the giant room. “Those who know me already know I’m going to keep this brief. I don’t like to stand on ceremony, or be part of one.”

Doctors Shruti and Bharati giggled and Sunset caught them rolling their eyes at him.

“Seventy percent of you will fail or quit,” he continued, and started pacing from one side of the stage to the other as he spoke. “That is not a comment or slight on your character, it is a statement of fact.”

Sunset’s heart sank.

“Fewer of you will go on to complete specialist training of your choosing, and those of you who want to enter the crucible of Scout School, nine out of the two-hundred here will complete that training.”

Her spirits plunged to subterranean levels, but her awe of Scout Cisneros grew.

“Some of you here come from military families. Others have never been on, or seen, a spaceship until recently. Those facts have zero bearing on your chances of success. This program is designed to ensure each and every student has the exact same opportunity to succeed or fail based on grit, determination, skill, and adaptability. Can your team learn to leverage each individual’s strengths, or will you let petty differences sabotage each other’s successes? Will egos bend or break? These are the things that will define your time, or lack thereof, at the Academy. Understood?”

“Sir, yes, sir!” The chant thundered through the auditorium and Sunset had to flatten her ears to keep them from ringing. Depths below, what had she gotten herself into?

“Dismissed.”

The Sunset Chronicles

To the extent possible under law, Victor Arteaga has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to The Sunset Chronicles. This work is published from: United States.

Morning Part 1

Morning Part 1

Part 4: Morning Twilight The Sunset Chronicles

Sunset’s palms tingled. She relaxed her fists and pressed on the door panel of Captain Williams’ office. It flashed red and blurted out a low tone. Sunset blinked and lifted her hand hesitantly off the panel. She turned to look both ways to ensure no one saw her embarrassment. Of course, the captain wouldn’t let anyone into her office any time they pleased. She rattled her gills, irritated with herself, and turned to go. The door beeped and slid open.

“Sunset, please come in,” Captain Williams called from within.

Sunset stepped into the office and the door whished shut behind her. The modest, oval-shaped office had just enough space for a glass desk with a piece cut out of the middle, where the captain sat in a tall backed chair wearing a casual, sleeveless shirt instead of her usual uniform. Her braids, streaked with silver and tied in elegant obsidian swoops hugging her scalp, collected into a knot at the back of her head, tied off with beads of twinkling stars and multi-colored lights dangling just above her dark brown shoulders. She held a mug of floral-scented, steaming liquid. Sunset didn’t recognize the smell, but tea was something her mother loved to make for her father. Her breath wavered. Behind Captain Williams, the wall displayed wildlife and foliage of another world: creatures with fur unlike any she’d seen and pointed beaks resembling those of some fish that ate the coral in her oceans.

“Please, have a seat,” Captain Williams said, and she pressed something on her desk. A chair rose from the floor. “What can I do for you?” She lifted her tea and took a sip. A sigh escaped her lips and she eased into the cushion of her chair. Her relaxed posture helped Sunset feel more at ease.

Sunset settled in. The edge cut into the back of her legs, so she lifted them up and folded them under herself. “I want to be a scout. Like Román.”

The captain’s smile flashed bright and wide. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

She slid her hand across the desk toward Sunset. The edge of its surface lit up and the image of a grizzled man with long whiskers and deep wrinkles on his dark face frowned at her. His right eye bore a jagged scar that left it gray and clouded.

“Is this the new recruit?” he asked in a voice as deep and gruff as his visage. Sunset let out a strangled trill of alarm. Perhaps the Ki’Tak were wise to abandon such technology.

“Yes, sir. Sunset, this is Admiral Mark Gleeson.”

“Stand up, recruit,” Gleeson commanded.

Sunset glanced at the captain. She gave her a supportive nod and stood at attention. Sunset mirrored her posture.

“Do you have a surname, Sunset?”

“What is that?” Sunset asked. The general raised an eyebrow and growled. The captain mouthed the word, Sir. Sunset sighed. “Sir.”

“Try the whole sentence again,” he snapped.

Sunset clenched her fists. “What is that…sir?”

“Family name, last name, anything after Sunset.”

“No, I was never given a proper naming ceremony.”

“You may elect to choose a surname for yourself or leave your name as it is.”

“I…” Sunset’s mind raced. Name herself? What would she—

“Time’s up. For now, you will have no Surname. Should you wish to change this status you will report it to your Squad Leader and they will pass it up the chain to ensure your name is updated. Do you wish to continue your application?”

Sunset narrowed her eyes. He stared back with an unflinching gaze bordering on bored. “Yes.” Sunset caught herself. “Sir.”

“I, Admiral Mark Gleeson, accept you, Sunset, into the basic training program for the Planetary League Astrophysical Survey. Upon arrival to basic—assuming you pass the aptitude test—you will be assigned the rank of Cadet and report to your drill instructor for squad assignments. Questions?”

“Aptitude test? What is that?”

“Any naval officer can provide further information about preparation for the test. You have seven days from your current location to ready yourself.” Gleeson turned to address Captain Williams. “You are authorized to provide Sunset with a pair of Smart Bands restricted to educational purposes.”

“Copy, sir.”

“Good.” The general returned to face Sunset. “Welcome aboard, Sunset. Admiral Gleeson, out.”

The video blinked away and Sunset exhaled and crumpled into the chair. Captain Williams strode to the side of her wall and pressed on a panel that lit up and slid out. She extracted a pair of cuffs and approached Sunset. She handed the bands to her, but Sunset recoiled out of instinct. Though she may accept technology more than her mother did, she still did not trust it. Sunset swallowed her superstition and offered her arms. Captain Williams slid them on and they adjusted themselves to fit over her wrists and forearms. Sunset flattened her ears and the muscles in her back cramped as she fought the urge to pull them away. She expected the devices to weigh her arms down, but to her delighted surprise, she barely registered their weight.

“Captain Williams, authorization code C-V-3-4-1-B.”

Sunset felt a tingle work all the way up her arms and a voice sounded in her ear. “User registered for Preparatory Education.” She shrieked and slammed her hand into her head. She scrambled away against the wall, upending her chair in process.

“Wait, it’s all right!” Captain Williams pleaded with her hands raised. Sunset replied with a rapid-fire string of curses, growls, and clicks as she sprang to her feet. “It’s okay, that’s how the bands keep your communication private. I can’t hear what it says. It uses the body’s ability to transfer energy by causing low grade vibrations into your ear. It’s not anything else. It’s just technology.”

“Perhaps my kind were wise to abandon it,” Sunset replied through bared teeth and wild arm movements.

“The enhanced learning modules haven’t been calibrated for Ki’Tak consciousness, and it won’t be until you as a people agree to let us scan your brains. With your help, we can enhance the experience—”

“I don’t even want to know what that is. These are invasion enough.” Sunset growled and scratched at the bands on her wrists. She grumbled a muffled curse and sat back down.

“A fair point.” Captain Williams crossed her arms and leaned against her desk. “In the coming weeks, Sunset, you’ll be faced with a number of challenges and technology you’ve not come across before. It’s going to be a long and hard road, but I have every ounce of confidence that you will excel. Entrance to the Scout program is contingent on your score throughout Basic. After we finish here, you’ll rejoin Agent Berkely on their ship and travel to a new system.”

“Will I be able to return?”

“You may request a particular station, but I am afraid that decision will be left to Command. I will put in a request to have you stationed aboard my ship. The Defendrons will be in need of their guardian and I suspect we have a long way to go before the conflict on Takarra is over.”

Pinpricks crawled across her back. Travel further into the heavens? Doubt drew a veil down over Sunset’s determination. Was it right for her to leave for such a distance? How would her mother react?

As though she read her mind, she asked, “Would you like a chance to say goodbye to your mother?”

Sunset nodded. Captain Williams made a hand gesture and the door opened. She straightened her posture and offered Sunset a salute. Sunset stood and returned the gesture in awkward fashion. Captain Williams beamed as Sunset left.

She navigated the hallways of the ship with her mind in daze until she reached the quarters that she and her mother shared. When she entered, a small arrangement of flowers greeted her from the table in the middle of the room. Sunset cooed a sigh of relief at the increased humidity. Her mother sat in front of a steaming mug of tea. This time, Sunset recognized the scent. How did they get the plants up? She shook away the thought. That was a concern for another day. She took the seat across from her mother. The biting scent of the of sea carried over from the plants floating in the hot water riled up memories Sunset would have rather left behind. Memories of her parents’ playing chittering replayed themselves unbidden, and a heaviness pulled her shoulders and gaze down to the hands folded in her lap.

“Are you leaving?” her mother asked. Sunset didn’t dare say anything, but nodded all the same. A slow trembling sigh rolled across the table as her mother gripped her mug and took a sip. “Why?”

“I don’t belong here with the others.”

“What about me?”

“What about you?” Sunset retorted with a snort. “You can always go back to the Ki’Tak. You’ll have an entire community, but not while I’m still here. They tolerate me even less than they tolerate the technology. If I leave, you—”

“Will lose the last connection to your father I have,” Temerity hissed. “He has been gone barely a week, or a few days—depths below, I can’t tell how time works anymore. All I know is that your face reminds me of him. I gave up my community, my people, for him… and for you. Without being able to look at you, all I’ll see is the blood—”

She stood and whirled away from Sunset. Her body shook and Sunset sat frozen in her chair. Shame paralyzed her vocal cords and guilt’s cold touch crept down her face and neck. How could she have been so callous? After a few moments, Temerity wiped at her face and turned back around to retake her place at the table.

“I’m sorry, my heart.” She hadn’t called Sunset that since she was a child. Her father didn’t approve of soft words once she could wield his spear. “My sacrifices are not meant to be your burden. I know you do not have a people here, yet. Not among the Ki’Tak, so—”

“I’ll come back. I promise.”

Temerity slid her chair to sit next to Sunset and rested her hand on her daughter’s leg. Sunset shifted herself to lean against her mother’s arm and laid her head atop her shoulder.

“I know you will. We wanted better for you, and I have to remind myself that my sacrifices were meant to better your life. Not mine. Go. I will wait here to see what you have grown to be.” Sunset couldn’t hold the flood of emotions back any longer, and for the second time in as many days, cried with her mother. When her body had shaken loose her sobs, Sunset stood and offered a curt goodbye. Better to rip the bandage than let the fresh would fester.

She found Agent Berkley in the hangar, waiting for her at the shuttle. The Defendrons stayed in their corner out of the way of the bustle. Ana beeped a greeting to her, and Sunset told Agent Berkley to wait a moment. She updated the Defendrons on her plans and gave them an estimated timeline. She had no idea if it was at all accurate. Ana agreed it a wise choice and assured her they would remain on the ship should their assistance be needed with the events on the surface. Once finished, Sunset returned to Agent Berkley and followed them onto the shuttle.

As they glided out into space, her gaze followed the swirling wisps of clouds floating across the sky and then narrowed to the earth below. She traced the outline of the grounds she knew with her fingertip against the glass. It had seemed so vast, yet now she could fit her old world into a few swipes of her finger.

She settled back as the ground became obscured with distance, and tried in vain to capture the enormity of space itself before her. Its infinite possibilities yawned before her within that glittering black tapestry. A fluttering sensation grew in her chest and spread to her stomach. Was it excitement? Sadness? A mixture of both? She couldn’t be sure, but she knew whatever waited ahead was only the tip of the spear.

The Sunset Chronicles Part 6: Morning part 2

To the extent possible under law, Victor Arteaga has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to The Sunset Chronicles. This work is published from: United States.

Morning Twilight

By Victor Arteaga

Sunset pressed her palm to the metal portion of a tubular case. Arta’s still face rested beneath a glass pane. With his expression calm, and dressed in the finest chieftain’s garb, he epitomized Ki’Tak royalty. Humility rested her weathered hand over Sunset’s and placed her other on her stomach. Unsure of what that meant, Sunset followed suit. The empty room’s hum filled the space between unspoken words until Humility sighed.

“He was right about you.”

Sunset bristled and let out a small growl from her chest. “I got him killed.”

“Yet saved the rest of us and carried us to the heavens. To beyond the heavens.” Sunset hissed. “Child, I do not agree with your creation.” Sunset pulled her hand out from under Humility’s. “The feud between Lu and Ki’Tak runs deep and putrid and yet you exist as proof that combined, we can be magnificent. Perhaps you are what we have always been meant to be. I suspect Arta believed that as well.” Humility studied Arta’s form and a rattling hum escaped her gills. Her gaze turned toward the door where Sunset’s spears rested against the wall. “Your father’s spear is well-made.”

Sunset flicked an ear toward Humility. “I suppose.”

“The Lu’Tak forge their own spears as youths. Each one is unique.”

“It did not suit me.”

“Nor should it have. It was made for him and him alone. The spear given you by these…” She paused to find the right word. “Shore-fliers, is not for you either.”

Sunset chuckled and flattened her ears. “It is made to fit whoever wields the weapon. Its edges are sharp, haft is sturdy, and it does not slip. Try it.”

Humility grumbled and refused. She shared her mother’s distaste for technology. Hypocrites. Suited them just fine to board a ship that took them into the heavens, but they wouldn’t touch something like a spear. Sunset frowned and crossed her arms. Arta would have tried it. Or perhaps not. He pushed her to keep her father’s spear. She would have to find another way to honor her father without his body. Her shoulders hunched as she leaned forward.

“Come, child. We must perform the rites for Arta and you must Speak for your father.” Humility turned and strode out the door.

Sunset lingered next to the old chief, and then followed. She grabbed her father’s spear. The weathered sections of the wood showed where he’d kept his grip. Years of her own training laid wider, more shallow grooves over his. His voice echoed in her memories: the barks of discipline, hisses of disappointment and the infrequent—hard-earned—coos of praise. A sharp pain sparked within her chest. When she held the weapon with both hands, her resolve crumbled and she collapsed. Flashes of his hard kindness tumbled through her memories. He chased her around their cave, making scary noises as she squeaked and warbled with glee and terror all at once. She dove into the water and then surfaced, expecting him to give chase, but instead he shouted harsh reprimands while clutching his bad leg. Only then did she realize his rancor came from his inability to give proper chase due to his injury. Foolish girl, he’d say before limping away leaving Sunset to wonder what she had done wrong.

The door opened and a smooth Takarran hand pressed into Sunset’s back. It’s soft, nurturing pressure was a familiar salve. Then as before, her mother’s caress soothed the pain brought by her father.

Temerity kneeled and Sunset shifted to lean against her, letting the flood of grief, anger and sorrow pour out. A wailing cry of anguish echoed in the sparse room. Ripples of spasms wracked Sunset’s body. Temerity’s grip tightened and she stifled her own sorrow by pressing her head against the top of her daughter’s. Sunset’s chest heaved, her voice rasped and nausea threatened to rise within her. She let the grief ride its course until her shoulders slumped from exhaustion and her tears stopped flowing.

Sunset collected herself, but remained curled up next to her mother.

“Humility says Father made this spear himself.”

“He did.”

“Did he want me to make my own spear like him?”

Temerity sighed and pushed air through her gills at the same time. “No. His life was harsh, and after you were born, he didn’t want the same. Forging a spear is no easy task. Many young Lu’Tak meet their end doing so. He wanted you to live and thrive. It’s why he—” Temerity paused to steady her breath. “Sacrificed himself for you. You were never meant to live as Lu’Tak or Ki’Tak.”

“So how was I supposed to live?” Anger boiled up in Sunset’s stomach.

“We didn’t know. Depths Below, we never agreed on what you would grow to be. We were so focused on keeping you alive as best we could. Now…” Temerity trailed off and a shudder ran through her. “I can’t fathom what comes next.”

Sunset relented and considered her mother’s words as she rolled her father’s spear in her hands. Her nails followed the grooves of its cuts and divots from years of use. The point of the spear could still pierce a Toh’Zah’s armor as if it were seaweed, and though the edges dulled, they still had bite left too. She rubbed her thumb over a deep chip from the time she accidentally thwacked a stone, and smiled.

“Do you remember the time I put this dent in the blade?” she asked her mother.

“Yes,” she replied. She laid a hand across the base of Sunset’s ear. “Your father was furious.”

“’How can such a small child swing so hard?’” Sunset imitated the angry clicking her father employed when his anger blocked his words and the pair chuckled. “He was so upset he ripped the spear from my hands and showed me how to hold it right.” Sunset placed her hands over the grooves worn by her father’s. “That was our first lesson.” Sadness clenched her heart again and a wave of grief rolled over her. She tightened her grip on the spear. “I don’t know what he would want. I can’t use his spear. It isn’t mine; I didn’t craft it. For now, I will honor him by keeping it near me.”

Temerity rested her head on her daughter’s and let the tears flow down. “I think that’s a good start. Come now, we must get to the ceremony. Captain Williams has also asked me to send you to her after it is done.”

Sunset grumbled, but stood to let her mother up. They walked side by side down the hall past uniformed humans offering deferential nods. They arrived at the doors to the dock and Sunset wiped the dried salt off her face before entering. The friendly bots perched themselves in a corner away from glaring and suspicious eyes. Immovable and unnerving, Sunset cooed a greeting to Ana and it responded back in kind. It would take some getting used to hearing her language spoken by a Toh’Zah.

The rescued Takarrans gathered and made way for Sunset and Temerity as they drew close. Humility waited next to Arta’s body, and raised her arms once Temerity and Sunset took their positions. The congregation raised their arms as well.

“Children of water.” Her voice boomed and echoed in the large space. The Takarrans repeated her words. “Borne of the depths. Risen by the tides. Carried by the waves, we send Arta, Chief, Elder, Father, Son.” She stomped both feet and slammed the butt of her spear down. Sunset glanced around in a panic. She didn’t know the steps. “We send him down from the heavens to the sea. May his mind, body, and soul return to the Black. May peace guide him to the House of Tak. May he rest.”

She led another round of stomps and hisses. The crowd followed suit and let the hiss carry as long as the last person held their breath. Humility walked to the head of Arta’s container and bent to lift it. The Takarrans surged forward with hands outstretched to touch the device, and when there was no space left untouched, they held onto each other to create a network of their bodies. Sunset held her mother’s hand and the hand of a Takarran boy. His body shivered and shook as he tried to contain his grief. The procession carried Arta to the end of the dock where a web of electricity stood between them and the vastness of space. Temerity stepped away and the group pressed the front of the vessel against the field. Blue crackling light molded around the edges of the coffin, and Takarrans peeled away from the vessel as the ones behind it pushed it through the field and into space.

“Arta. Ferry those we could not recite. Lead them with you to the House of Tak.” Those closest to the mouth of the docks broke down in their own grief. A jet of white smoke burst from Arta’s container and shot him down toward their planet. The Takarrans began a collective low, guttural rumble. A calm swept over Sunset and she joined in. A cluster of her people changed pitch to harmonize, and soon another group added a third layer of harmony over the throaty rumbling in the docks. They continued until Arta’s vessel vanished from sight, and the rumble quieted down to end with a short hiss from their gills. The Takarrans dispersed without a sound and left the hanger. Sunset, her mother, and Humility walked side by side in silence until they reached the open doors.

A tall stranger with short sand-colored hair joined Captain Williams and Dr. Jun in an unfamiliar uniform. Their neutral demeanor with relaxed posture gave nothing away as to their state of mind, nor could Sunset decipher whether they were male or female.

“I did not believe humans had kultah,” Humility said and gestured to the new person. They tilted their head sideways with a quizzical look. Humility scratched her spear and vibrated her gills in contemplation. “Its closest translation is ‘wet sand,’ though not a fully accurate definition. Closer would be ‘between land and water.’ It is difficult to describe.”

The new person smiled and nodded with understanding. “I’m non-binary. Not one or the other.”

“What is your name?”

“Agent Berkley,” they said.

“Met with honor,” Humility said. Ire pricked at Sunset’s ears. Why treat someone of no sides with honor and her, born of two sides, with hatred and disdain?

“Why are you here?” Sunset asked. “I was told the captain wanted to speak with me.”

Agent Berkley regarded the captain before receiving permission to speak. “I am with the Department of Artificial Justice. We have been summoned to help with both sets of artificial intelligence found on your planet. Our first step is to verify the sentience of your companions.” They tipped their head to the robots sitting in the bay.

Sunset scoffed. “Any fool could speak with one and know they are sentient.”

“Nevertheless, our mission is clear. You are to come with us to our ship so that they may undergo the tests. This is a good thing, Sunset.”

“Why?”

“Because if they pass, they’ll be given all the rights inherent to all living beings within the League. Dr. Jun debriefed me on our way here and I am eager to bring them to meet the inspector.”

Sunset grumbled. “Am I required for this?”

“Yes, we need you to be part of the test. You are connected to them in a way we cannot be. Your culture and experiences will also be needed.”

“Culture? I have never seen a death rite before. I have lived on the outside of their society by their own hatred of me and my family.” Sunset’s ears flattened as her anger grew. She tilted her head down to look at the color of her skin and wished she could hide in a uniform like the humans did.

Agent Berkley’s expression softened. “I understand the feeling. Be that as it may, they are bound to you, aren’t they?”

“Yes,” Sunset mumbled.

“Then it’s settled. You’re the best one for the job.” Agent Berkley lay a hand on Sunset’s arm. She lifted her head to meet their supportive gaze.

Sunset gathered her resolve, thanked Agent Berkley and walked to the waiting group of bots.

Ana rose to full height and spoke a word of greeting. “We heard the conversation. Are we to follow and proceed with the tests?” The other bots also rose, awaiting their instructions.

“Do you want to?”

“It doesn’t matter. The agent was correct. We are bound to you and thus will obey your commands.”

“Any of them?”

“Within acceptable parameters of morality, yes.”

The bot’s answer brought many questions to Sunset’s mind, but she decided to save them until the test. She nodded and ordered them to follow her to the next location. Captain Williams and Agent Berkley led them to a new style of shuttle. Where before the bots would have to duck to get into the bay, they could stand upright and still have space above their heads. The bots settled themselves in, and at Sunset’s order, diminished to their rock formations.

Captain Williams pulled Sunset aside before letting her board. “A quick warning about the inspectors you’ll meet.” Sunset uttered a series of clicks to convey her curious expectation. “They’re different than us. Still human, kind of, but their appearance is drastically altered.”

Sunset flicked her ears and nodded. “I will try not to be surprised.”

Captain Williams chuckled. “I don’t think anyone can be fully prepared for meeting the inspectors the first time. Good luck.” She stepped back and gave Sunset a half-hearted salute with a crooked smile. Her beads clicked as she turned to leave.

Temerity shared a look with her daughter and embraced her. Sunset’s grief welled and she pulled away before it could drag her down again. The door to the shuttle hissed closed behind her as she cast one last glance back at her worried mother. Unsure of what she should be feeling, the unease of facing something new had become a familiar sensation.

Agent Berkley managed the flight on their own in a sealed cockpit, leaving Sunset to weather the silence with the hidden bots and her unimpeded thoughts. What were these altered humans capable of? Why were they altered? What protections lay ahead for the bots? What was to be her role? She was of neither Ki nor Lu’Tak, and thus far neither side had extended a welcome. The best she could say is one side was more willing to listen. Though they would more readily invite her mother back into the fold, Sunset doubted whether they would extend the same courtesy to her. It seemed more likely she would find a place among the humans. Sunset felt the void left by Scout Cisneros’ departure. What a life he must lead.

“You are troubled, Guardian.” Ana’s voice came from the largest boulder.

“Many questions, few answers,” she replied.

A mechanical rumbling came from the rock. “One of your predecessors also found himself in moments of uncertainty. Though his troubles revolved around the raging conflict between your people.”

“What did he do?”

“Built us.”

The shuttle shuddered and Agent Berkley’s echoed steps preceded their arrival to the loading bay. “We’re here. I assume the captain gave you warning about who you’re about to meet?”

“She did, but offered no specifics.”

“Better that way, I think,” they said.

They waved a hand and the door opened. Sunset ordered the bots to follow her and Agent Berkley through a nearly identical ship to the one they’d left. This time, instead of rising to their destination in an elevator, they sank low into the bowels of the craft. The hallways’ meager light left the place dim and uninviting. Gloomy apprehension gripped Sunset’s chest.

“I know it feels foreboding,” Agent Berkley said, “but it’s only because the DAJ inspector you’re about to meet requires a tremendous amount of power. As a result, we keep the peripheral systems of this floor running on low in order to ensure an even power draw. We call it the Basement.”

Sunset understood nothing of that, but nodded all the same. They came at last to a door bordered by a pulsing red light. Sunset’s heartbeat thudded with anticipation.

“Ready?” Agent Berkley asked.

“No.”

The agent smiled and opened the door. Sunset’s eyes widened. Beyond the threshold, in the middle of the wall opposite her, protruded a cylindrical case filled with a bright green liquid. Tubes, wires, and flashing lights sprawled out from the base and into various large black screens displaying scrolling symbols. When she caught sight of what lay within the liquid, her breath stopped. A human—or something human-like?—floated within, with a head that eclipsed the rest of its body. Its arms, like the branches of a shrub, folded under its chin, over a body little larger than Sunset’s arm. Veins crawled up the sides of its gargantuan skull. Its eyes hid behind blackened discs wrapped around its head, and a mask with a ribbed tube covered its mouth and nose.

Sunset gasped. “What is—”

“They’re called Encephaloids,” Agent Berkley said. “Humans created to process incalculable amounts of data. Our brains are remarkable, even for those of us without the boons of technology, and can take in and interpret data at incredible speed. Do you know the amount of processing power it takes just to process what you see?” Their hand movements sped up and grew more exaggerated as they spoke. “Because we had to deal with artificial intelligence and sentience in the past, we needed to process petabytes of data in milliseconds. This was our solution. We call him Greg, and this is his basement.”

Hello, and welcome.

Sunset backed away and raised her hands into a defensive stance. The voice echoed and came from everywhere.

Please do make yourselves at home. I’m very much looking forward to meeting you, Sunset, and the To’Zah you bring with you.

Her ears pricked at his perfect pronunciation. Though he made no hand gestures to accompany the words, his meaning rang clear. The bots entered the Basement and fanned out in a semi-circle behind Sunset.

“I’ll leave you all to get acquainted,” Agent Berkley said. “Honor to meet you, Sunset.” Sunset gave the salute she’d seen other members give each other. The ensign gave their own salute with a beaming smile. “Crisp. I like it. You should think about joining up,” they said with a wink. Could she?

Well, now that we’re all acquainted, I sense you’re eager to begin. Though I suppose, more accurately, you’ve a fair bit of apprehension about the whole ordeal, haven’t you?

“Your speaking voice. It has different sounds, like Román but also not the same.”

Correct. Much like Scout Cisneros, I speak with an accent. Someday, should you choose to learn more about our origins as we are about to learn of your Toh’zah you—

“They are not mine.”

Of course. I merely chose a colloquial phrase. The Toh’zah which accompany you are fascinating. Different from the data we’ve gathered of the Lu’Tak’s Toh’zah. From here on we will determine their sentience.

“How?”

Quite simple, really. You’ll have a conversation with each other, and I will monitor their responses measured against parameters that have been pre-determined. In fact, they have already passed several of the early tests.

“We talk?”

Yes.

“About?”

Anything, though I would recommend beginning with a question and letting the conversation flow from there.

A chill ran through Sunset. The Basement’s cold air, grey and dark colors with twisting serpentine cables, blinking lights, and low ceiling spiked her anxiety. Her skin itched in the dry and she scratched at her forearms.

Apologies. I will adjust the humidity levels. As to your anxiety, perhaps this scenery shall provide you some comfort.

The walls and floor shimmered, a palpable warmth flooded the air, and Sunset was no longer in the Basement. She stood within a clearing bordered by familiar trees—the kinds she would often climb in from the time she was a child. Shock left her slack jawed when she realized it was the same clearing she would play in before she learned the spear. The sun shone from behind the clouds overhead and the lapping ocean waves tempered her frayed nerves. She whirled around, and then sighed in relief to find the Toh’zah still behind her.

Better?

“How…”

I am capable of quite a lot, but for now, let’s focus on the task at hand, shall we?

Sunset regarded the retinue of Toh’zah. Ask a question. She thought about their prior conversation and turned to Ana.

“What should I ask you?”

“A question you want an answer to,” Ana replied. One of the other bots let out a quiet chuckle.

“Who made you?”

“Mak’talu. He was a direct ancestor of Chief Arta by three generations.”

“Why?”

“Before the fracture of societies and near extinction of both Lu’Tak and Ki’Tak, we were developed as a new line of subterfuge bots designed to look more like our natural landscape. The first run of our line was unconvincing. Of the twenty models produced, the few you see here are all that remain.”

“What became of you then?”

“We received combat training and outfitting. Before Mak’Talu died in combat, he passed on the role of Guardian to his son, Arta’s grandfather, Chi’zi. We joined the Guardian’s Cadre.”

“I’ve never heard of them.”

“They were an elite force of Toh’Zah and Ki’Tak that acted as the tip of a spear: to break through fortifications with precision such as to allow the thrust of the following force.”

“How did you feel about it?”

“Proud. We all felt our roles to be important in keeping the Ki’Tak alive and protected.”

“Did you ever consider the cost of lives on the Lu’Tak?”

“Yes.” Ana’s eyes dimmed and scanned across the false landscape. “It would also weigh heavily on Chi’zi. He was unlike many of the Ki’Tak. He often wondered why they fought each other. It didn’t make sense to us either. We felt our mission lessened the loss of life. Humans have a term for it: The Trolley Problem. Kill few to save many. In the sacrifice of a handful, would not many thousands have been saved? That was our guiding ideal on attack missions. Once our task was done, a second force would sweep in. The Lu’Tak did not hold similar ideals. We Toh’Zah have limited ability to impose our will.”

“I hate that name.”

Ana regarded Sunset with a tilted head and a flick of their mechanical ear. “It is what we are.”

“No. I have been hunted by Toh’Zah. I have hunted them. The Toh’Zah I know took my father from me. You aren’t like them, and I will not call you by that name.”

“Then may I suggest a new term?”

“Please.”

“Defendrons. We feel that it suits our mission more aptly than Toh’Zah.”

“Difficult to pronounce but I’m sure I’ll get used to it.” A smile crept up the side of Sunset’s face. “A new name then. Ana, Defendrons—” Ana rose to stand a head taller, and the others turned their attention to her. “I’ll have to learn your names.”

“We don’t have names. Merely designations.”

“That’ll be our next project then.”

Splendid. I believe this is an appropriate time to end. You have been classified as tier-one sentient robotic life-forms. All tests were passed and exceeded. Sunset, Defendrons, welcome to the Planetary League.

The room shimmered and returned to its normal bleak aesthetic. Sunset averted her eyes from the tank with the floating Encephaloid.

By the way, Sunset. Agent Berkley was right. Becoming a member of the astrophysical survey seems a suitable direction. Until such time as the culture within the Ki’Tak change to allow you entry as one of their own, perhaps some time spent among a welcoming group of others might benefit you in a myriad of ways.

The door to the Basement slid open and the agent entered. “I’ve received notification of the To— the Defendrons’ success.”

Sunset perked her ears up and strode to Agent Berkley. “How do I become a scout?”

Agent Berkley beamed and said, “That is a question Captain Williams will be thrilled to answer.”

<Second Exodus

Sunset Chronicles

Morning Part 1 >

To the extent possible under law, Victor Arteaga has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to The Sunset Chronicles. This work is published from: United States.

Second Exodus

By Victor Arteaga

Flames licked across the front of the shuttle. Sunset and Arta gripped the edges of their seats with enough force to threaten their very atoms with compression. Her teeth rattled in her skull as the shuttle broke through the atmosphere. The humans muttered some words related to the flight, but Sunset was too busy reciting the Mantra of Solitude her father had taught her to care. The shaking ceased, her stomach rose into her throat, and her body pressed into the seat as the craft leveled out.

"We're at cruising altitude now," Sergeant Greene said.

He unstrapped himself from the chair and stood. The red of his uniform shifted to a mottled pattern of dark blues to match the undulating waves of the ocean below. Jun also stood but left the purple of her uniform in place.

"Next moves?" Sergeant Greene asked. He lifted a panel on the wall and pulled out a machine like Román had that let him breathe as Sunset did. Then he lifted a long device held in both hands. He gripped it by a handle, and the long tube attached to it and other outcroppings flashed blue. The bands on his wrists emitted a chirp.

“What is that?” Sunset asked.

“It’s called a rifle.”

"We must gather the rest of the Ki'Tak in the region and send them to a holy place. The Resting Pools," Arta said. He examined the two spears he brought, his own and Sunset's. He chose Sunset’s and set his own down against the wall.

"Roger that. I'll set the scanners to plot our best course using your bio-tags," Jun said.

"I still need a weapon," Sunset said. Sergeant Greene led her to the back of the shuttle, pressed his hand against a panel, and a long section of the wall flipped down. Inside gleamed a new spear made entirely of metal. The triangular tip was longer than hers and the base had two prongs on the same sides as the sharp edge. She gripped it, and the cool metal beneath her fingers shifted to fit her hand perfectly. She made a light coo- and purring sound in amazement. Sergeant Greene smiled.

"Glad you like it." He turned back to the other two. Arta hummed his growing displeasure.

"Course set," Jun said.

"I believe from here on out, the best course of action will be to have us approach the Ki'Tak alone first. Sunset's presence would be jarring enough, and we don't know how many know of your existence yet."

"Understood," Sergeant Greene said. "We'll—"

"Not understood, actually," Jun said. "I will come along with the two of you to prove we are not the threat. Instead of trusting your word, they can see for themselves that there are otherworldly people who are here to help. I think that would lend more weight to your arguments that they should congregate. Otherwise, why bother believing you? If Sunset is an outlier and, judging by the divisive nature of your relationship with the Lu'Tak, I will go to provide weight to your argument. Sergeant Greene will fly cover in case we get tracked down by the Cryptobots."

"I like this plan," Sunset said. Arta hissed through his teeth but said no more. "How do we get down?"

Sergeant Greene smiled. He tossed the breathing device to Jun and led them to the empty space in the middle of the shuttle.

"Computer, lower us to drop altitude."

"Drop al—?" Sunset howled as the craft plummeted and she floated off the floor for a second before coming back down.

"Ready for drop in three!" Sergeant Greene announced as he went back to his chair.

Jun grasped both Arta and Sunset's hands.

"Two!"

"What is the mean—" Arta said.

"Drop!"

The floor fell open below them. Arta and Sunset's screams were swallowed by the rush of air as they fell. Jun let go of Sunset's hand. She flailed and screeched. Jun pointed her hands at the water and spoke a command. A blast of energy hit the water, breaking the surface just before they hit, and the ocean swallowed them up. The water buffeted them for a few seconds before Sunset and Arta righted themselves. Jun had the device in her mouth, and her boots shifted into flippers. She told them this was the first location, then pulled up a digital map that floated above her wrist that showed the path they would take. Arta blew a stream of bubbles, then led toward the foundation of an island just ahead of them. Jun managed to keep up this time, unlike Román. As they neared the opening, Sunset’s grip tightened on her new spear. She knew how this would go.

A young Ki'Tak, perhaps a bit older than Sunset, swam out to meet them as they neared the mouth of an underground cave. He bared his fangs. The short dagger in his hand flashed as he whipped it out from behind his back. He lunged, but not at Sunset—his target was Arta.

Sunset whipped the spear through the water, using the haft to smack the young Ki'Tak's hand. It yelped and stared at her.

"Peace, young warrior. We come with grave warning to your chief," Arta said.

"No, you come bearing death. We have heard of these creatures, and that you helped them destroy your island. We will not allow you to come any nearer."

"If death follows me, it is only because I lead the race to warn you. We must congregate at the Resting Pools. These humans and this child will help us survive against the t’ozah that have claimed the skies."

"How can this abomination be of any help?" The young man jabbed his dagger at Sunset. She aimed her spear at him.

"Because she will be the bridge between the Lu'Tak and the Ki'Tak. When the t’ozah claim the world, she will help create the peace that will save our species."

"Why bring her?" The youth pointed his weapon at Jun.

"I come as proof that we are here to help. That we can provide safety against the t’ozah and even a means to defeat them."

That piqued the youth's interest. "I will relay your message to my chief. If we can defeat the Lu'Tak's t’ozah then that is worthy of an audience. I will see it done."

And so it went throughout their trek. From island to island, the conversations were little different until they strayed farther from Arta’s island, where their message was met with greater hostility directed toward Sunset instead of Arta.

As the trio made their way with arms, legs and bodies aching from the constant travel, to their last location, Sunset halted them. "We are on the edge of the Lu'Tak's territory. Beware, as these waters cannot be trusted."

"Copy that," Jun said.

She relayed the information to Sergeant Greene, whose shuttle floated out of sight beyond the ocean's surface. This time, the elder of the island greeted them as they emerged onto the shore. She regarded Arta with familiar respect and Jun with professional curiosity. Her hostility to Sunset was tame by comparison the other chieftains they'd met; she offered a formal greeting instead of calling her an abomination. She didn’t need much convincing and agreed to meet at the Resting Pools. She admired Sunset's spear before taking off to gather her people.

As the trio dove back in the water from the shore, they began the trek to the Resting Pool as well. Sunset felt a nagging prickle in her neck. She doubted they would be able to—

The trill of a Lu’Tak battle cry interrupted her thoughts. Four of them came rushing up from below. Jun fired a blast from her sidearm at one of them. The heat sent a trail of bubbles before it hit her mark. The other three barreled toward Sunset. She bared her fangs, uttered her own guttural war cry and held out her spear.

Arta swam to intercept one. The Lu'Tak swerved to avoid getting hit by Arta's thrust. The remaining two attacked Sunset in unison. She rushed between them to split the attack, and slashed one with the claws on her hand. It laughed as her attack ripped its flesh. Without stopping, she curved up and powered toward the surface. They gave chase, the injured lagging behind the other. The lead hurled his spear at her. She twisted and dodged. He pulled it back using a length of twine.

Almost there. With a last grunt of effort, she breached the surface. She twisted around in the air, droplets pattering on the surface. The Lu'Tak broke just after her. She spun the spear in one hand, knocking away a wild thrust. As she plunged back to the ocean, she drove the tip of her spear through the chest of the one she'd injured. It screamed as blood spurt from its mouth. The other tried to bring the spear down on her, but Sunset used her own spear to twist the impaled Lu'Tak around and blocked the blow with its body. She yanked her spear out, and a plume of purple blinded the other. She flanked the remaining Lu’Tak and stabbed him through the back. Without pause or ceremony, she dove back to find Arta.

Jun pressed her hand against his arm and wisps of purple blood floated around his shoulder.

"Let me see," Sunset said.

Jun pointed to a gouge on his back. She tapped the wrist band and signaled for Sunset to wait. Moments later, a box with a propeller came down to them. Jun applied a bandage to his back and Arta sighed in relief.

"We cannot dally further. The one who attacked me escaped."

"How did you not shoot him?" Sunset raged at Jun.

"Excuse me for tending to Arta's injuries," Jun said.

Sunset bared her fangs and blew a stream of bubbles through her gills. "We must carry him now." She gripped one of his arms and Jun took the other. They sped off to the Resting Pools.

Arta guided them since Sunset had no idea where the place was, nor had she heard of it. Her mother might have been able to tell her, but there was no helping that now. They arrived at the largest island Sunset had ever seen. On shore, they swam through a delta, and then up a freshwater river. It felt odd, almost wrong, on her skin not to taste the salt. The river dove underground, and Jun's wrist machines provided light for them to navigate until they reached a deep, chilly lake. Once they rose to the surface, Arta led them to a staircase out onto the rocky surface.

Above them, sunlight pierced through a canopy with hanging vines, vibrant flowers, and large green petals above a massive opening in the stone ceiling. Wind rustled the vines, and a few petals fell to the placid, crystalline water.

"Oh, a cenote!" Jun said. "We have structures like these on my planet as well."

Hundreds of Ki'Tak lined the tiered, sloping stone shore chatting, waiting, and eating. The elders of each group conversed among themselves, denoted by different markings or items worn on their bodies. Sunset sought a corner away from the crowd. One of the other Ki'Tak caught sight of her and said something to her friends. A hush rolled through the group like a swelling tide. Arta cleared his throat.

"Thank you for gathering here, and please forgive my tardiness. We came across a patrol of Lu'Tak. I'm afraid we haven't much time. You have all heard my pleas already, so I'll not waste your time repeating them. This woman—" He gestured to Jun. "—has the ability to take us out of this world, to swim the heavens themselves and find us a new home."

Chaos erupted with shouts, clicks, hisses, and growls. Sunset slunk further into her corner. She'd never seen that kind of collective anger but knew it couldn’t lead anywhere good.

Arta slammed his spear down and shouted, "Enough!" The entire gathering shushed, though a few hissed at him. "You have not seen the devastation wrought by the t’ozah. I have. They will destroy us. All of us. They have claimed the sky, and it will not be long before they claim all of our waters. We cannot stay."

"Liar!" someone yelled. "The t’ozah cannot traverse the skies. If we cannot then neither can they. Nothing can swim through air!"

"Sergeant. I think it's time you made an appearance," Jun said into her wrist. She stood next to Arta. "Esteemed Ki'Tak. I come from another world, and I can prove to you that we can swim through the sky. Look." She pointed up. The shuttle descended through the trees, its thrust whipping the calm surface of the lake into a frenzy.

Half the children shrieked and hid behind their parents, gills flared all the way open in terror, while the others gawked and cooed in wonder; the adults reacted little differently. Many took defensive stances, brandishing spears and clubs, and stepped between the ship and their young. Others sprinted behind outcroppings, and some scrambled for purchase on the walls nearest them. Sergeant Greene maneuvered the shuttle to land on an edge just within sight. The side door opened, and he stood and waved.

"You see? The t’ozah have stolen the technology to fly, and we must leave our home so that our people will survive."

The elder woman that was their last contact stood next to Arta. She regarded Jun with a critical stare and series of quiet clicks.

"You will not force us to assimilate?" she asked.

"No, we do not believe in assimilation, rather cooperation and co-existence."

"My name is Boltacn. It means power through silence, or Humility."

"It's an honor to meet you, Humility."

Sunset’s ears pricked at a splash. She didn't remember seeing anyone dive into the water. She scanned the water. A ripple glided from the middle of the lake.

The shuttle's engines roared to life and the craft bolted away. Seconds later, a blast shook the entire cavern. Chunks of rock fell and crushed several Ki'Tak below them. Arta, Humility, and Jun ducked. From the water, dozens of Lu'Tak attacked. They rushed the Ki'Tak wielding advanced weaponry, firing energy blasts. The warriors of the Ki'Tak hurled spears back at them. Some hit their marks sending purple bodies splashing back into the water. Jun fired off several blasts.

A Lu'Tak breached the lake by Sunset. She screeched her battle cry, dodged its blast with a forward roll, shifted her grip to the bottom of the shaft, and thrust the point into its throat as she rose.

Another roar of screaming engines shook her teeth as several t’ozah passed over the Pools. Arta ordered Humility to join her tribe and fight back against the Lu'Tak. A child wailed as it pulled on the arm of a fallen Ki'Tak woman. Rage boiled over in Sunset’s stomach. Her gills rattled with a guttural growl. A pair of Lu'Tak sauntered to the child, short blades raised. Sunset sprinted over the ground and screamed to draw their attention. They spun. In a single swipe, Sunset whipped the tip of her spear through both their necks. Another Lu'Tak aimed and fired a blast from a tube-like weapon. Sunset ducked, picked up the child, and carried it to another Chief that hurled her spear at Sunset’s attacker.

"Command, this is Dr. Jun— Understood. Backup is on the way. Shuttles are being deployed and the navy is sending fighters. They're—"

An explosion lit up the sky. Fire rained down through the top of the cenote as pieces of the destroyed craft splashed into the water. The logo of the PLAS flew among the debris. Jun's eyes widened.

Arta grabbed Sunset's arm. "Come.” He dove into the water.

Jun recovered and fired at another wave of Lu'Tak coming out of the water. In the air, a t’ozah hovered in the opening and its guns brightened. A green blast lanced through it. The craft fired its plasma blasts, but off-target. The balls of light collided with the rock wall, melting two holes into it as it careened sideways and fell out of sight.

"Now!" Arta yelled.

Sunset jumped into the lake. They dove to a depth where light barely reached. Arta turned to Sunset. His eyes bulged, and he pulled her behind him. The point of a spear tore through his back. Sunset screamed, circled around, and slew the ambushing Lu'Tak.

Arta started to sink. Sunset grabbed him, and he raised a feeble hand to point to an opening in the wall. She pulled him up and through the hole. A brief swim later and Sunset dragged Arta onto a smooth surface. In the small cavern, Sunset could still stand at full height. The landing was dotted by large boulders of varying shapes and sizes. Arta spoke a command through gasping, ragged breaths. Something in the wall started to glow red.

"Help me up," Arta said.

Sunset lifted him up, and he winced and groaned as the spear’s broken haft shifted in his chest. It must have just barely missed his heart. The old man was lucky, she thought. He lifted a hand to the pulsing light. Sunset could make out the visage of a Ki'Tak face on it. Arta pressed it, smearing purple blood over it. A mechanical twang echoed.

The rock wall shuddered, shifted, and broke. A current of red electricity ran down the wall, across the ground, and energized all of the boulders, seven in total. They vibrated, hummed, and cracked. Dust puffed out of them as they shifted in shape. The wall broke completely, and the button disappeared into the chest of a towering robotic Ki'Tak that had been encased in the stone. The other rocks shifted out of their transformations to take the shape of smaller versions of the same large robot. Sunset bared her fangs and spun, taking a defensive posture around Arta. The largest robot knelt and scanned Arta.

"Guardian, you have woken us. We are at your command."

"Protect the Ki'Tak. Lu'tak and t’ozah battle above. There are other unknown life forms,” he took a labored breath. “They are allies. Assist them in evacuating the Ki'Tak."

"And of this hybrid?" It regarded Sunset.

"She is the future. The bridge between the Lu and Ki'Tak. Her safety is your prime objective. I pass guardiansh—" He winced and closed his eyes. He opened them again and gasped. "Guardianship to her." Arta wheezed his last breath, then lay still. The bot emitted a loud tone and scanned Sunset with its glowing red eyes.

"Confirmed, new Guardian accepted. We are at your service."

Sunset dropped her spear and fell to her knees. Arta still held her father's weapon and tears fell down her cheeks. She cursed both her father and Arta for dying as she leaned in to close his eyes.

"Awaiting orders, Guardian." She swiped the salty streaks from her face, grabbed both spears, and stood. How could she be anyone’s future?

"We must leave Takarra. Take me to the surface."

The bot knelt and Sunset clambered onto its back. A handle popped out of its back and the seven others dove into the water. They swam up to the surface so fast Sunset almost lost her grip on the bot's back. They breached the water and, in an arcing fall, landed on the shore. The bots engaged the remaining Lu'Tak with lines of bright lights and flashing blades, slaying them with frightening efficiency.

Jun panicked and aimed her sidearm, but dropped it when she saw Sunset riding on the back of the large one. She dropped down from her perch. The Lu'Tak sounded a retreat.

Above the sounds of plasma fire, jets roaring and streaking through the skies continued unabated. Sunset ordered her bots to the surface to assist the humans. The remaining Ki'Tak gawked at the bots, and Humility wiped blood from her face. From the surface, the bots launched a fusillade of artillery at the flying t’ozah.

"New friends?" Jun asked. She looked around. "Where's Arta?" Sunset gave Jun her father’s spear. Jun grasped Sunset's forearm. "I'm sorry. We will bring him back, I promise." She lifted a hand to her ear. "No ma'am, the bots on the ground are friendly... I know... Thank you, I'll relay." Jun sighed. "The Cryptobots are retreating. They've learned to outmaneuver orbital strikes, so our fighters had to engage in dogfights. With them gone, the shuttles can descend. Let's get everyone topside."

It didn't take much convincing to get the remaining Ki'Tak onto the shuttles. Sergeant Greene welcomed Sunset back. She was relieved to see his was not the craft that was destroyed and was the last to board along with the robots. She still didn't know what they were called. They shifted into their stone form to fit inside, save for the largest, who could only kneel to get onboard. The increasingly familiar push of the shuttle rising to the heavens brought with it a wave of relief. Amid gasps of delight, wonder, and fear from the Ki’Tak, Sunset sat against the bulkhead next to the bots.

"What do I call you?" she asked the big one.

"I was once given the name Tak'Ana, but you may call me what you like."

"I think I'll go with Ana. You're not really Takarran."

"Agreed."

"How many of there are you?"

"We are all that remain."

Sunset sighed. Jun sat down next to her and returned her father’s spear. Sunset fought down the grief threatening to steal her breath. "Even if they are the only ones left, I think we're going to need all the help we can get, and near-sentient robotic life is quite the ally. If they have the same capabilities as..." Her voice faded out as Sunset let herself drift into her thoughts. Too many unnamed emotions weighed her chest. She thumbed over the grooves of her father's spear. She closed her eyes and as exhaustion overtook her, she whispered the Words of Serenity for her father's soul.

< Dawn

The Sunset Chronicles

Morning Twilight>

To the extent possible under law, Victor Arteaga has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to The Sunset Chronicles. This work is published from: United States.

Dawn

By Victor Arteaga

Sunset didn’t know what to do with her hands. Her skin itched, and the dry air left her gills on the verge of rasping with each breath. She hadn't been out of water for this long before. Román led her and the small retinue of her kin through long, curving hallways adorned with menacing lines of lights to a large room. He spoke something in his language without using the device on his arm that would turn it into Takarran. The color of the lights changed from white to warm gold. Moisture cooled her gills, and the others made their own sounds of relief. The children, feeling re-energized, chirped and sprinted around, chasing each other. One bumped into the wall and inadvertently changed something; the wall shimmered and turned into a window. They cooed with awe as they stared out at the black of space.

"This should feel more comfortable," Román said, this time with the aid of his technology. Her mother made a click of disapproval. Sunset rumbled her response. Mother should be more trusting of them. He'd saved their lives numerous times. Despite losing her father, the Ki'Tak may survive the uprising of Lu'Tak monstrosities taking over the planet. "I know there are other Takarrans, the purple—" He made a slight mispronunciation, but he lacked the gills to make the hiss to pronounce the Lu'Tak properly. "—will need to be helped as well." The others growled and flared their disapproval.

"They will not accept our help," Temerity said.

"Even if they don't, our charter requires we try our best. Those machines will take over the planet. Once they hit a certain developmental point, it's inevitable." He rubbed his head, which, to a Takarran, would mean one thing, but for this creature, it seemed to mean frustration. Perhaps irritation? "For now, I'll see about bringing you food. I need to raise the language decisions—" He made another mispronunciation. "—into the ship’s logs so we can all communicate with you. Hang tight."

Román left.

"We can't stay here," her mother said. "Your father—"

"Is dead."

Temerity bared her fangs and ruffled her gills. "For once, let me finish a sentence. He needs to be floated. He has always asked to be remembered in the Lu'Tak way and we have to honor him."

"There is nothing left of him to honor. Besides, the Lu'Tak only believe in the honor," she sneered, "of combat death which he received. That will have to be enough." Sunset pulled away from her mother, stuffing down the battling waves of pain, anger, grief, and relief roiling in her chest. She rolled her thumb over the engraving of her father's name on her spear and clicked a nail over a scratch.

Arta approached her. "You should not be so harsh with your mother. She is grieving too, as we all are for our home. This is a good spear; your father made it well."

"You can have it."

Sunset pushed the haft against his chest and he stumbled. The spear clattered as it fell, and Sunset stormed out of the room. The door hissed closed. Where would she go now? No sense going back the way she came, so she went the opposite direction and followed the flow of habitants. Some of them greeted her; she recognized a handful of sounds but didn't respond. She needed to find where their elders congregated. A man with a thick ring of silver fur around his face and deep wrinkles around his eyes strode toward her with a sturdy, confident step. He was definitely someone in charge. She followed him through another door. He glanced at her and raised an eyebrow. She had seen Román do the same but didn't know exactly what it meant. The man said nothing. He spoke a command, the doors closed, and she barked as the floor pushed itself up. He tapped the same devices Román had on his wrists, then spoke to her.

"You must be Sunset, yes?" His speaking sounded different than Román's.

"Yes."

"Just in time. I was going to send for you anyway."

She liked Román's tones better. Sunset waited until the door opened. Several people with varying colors of uniforms stood in a circle around a table. Her ears twitched with anxiety when Román entered from a corner of the room she had not seen.

"Don't worry," he said. "We're here to discuss next steps."

"Next steps to what?"

"To evacuating the rest of the Takarrans."

Sunset trilled her gills and flattened her ears. That would be difficult. "Arta should also be present. I am not an elder. I am only seen as the abomination between the two warring tribes. My voice will not be effective."

"We already sent someone for him. He should be— ah, there he is."

Arta strode in following a tall, broad-shouldered man with yellow hair. He held her father’s spear out to her, but she backed away, lifting her lip to show a single fang. Arta sighed through his gills.

"Given the situation on the surface, we haven’t time for niceties. I am Vice Admiral Fehr." The man with silver fur gestured to the table with flat circular chairs that rose from the floor. Everyone sat down; Sunset took her spot next to Román and Arta took a position at her left. The four others bowed slightly before sitting. What an odd gesture. Arta and Sunset mimicked their movements.

"Arta, Sunset, you know Scout Cisneros, and the other three here are Commodore Yun—" He gestured an open palm to an aging short man with black combed hair and square jaw. "—Captain Williams—" A dark-skinned woman with long, twisted hair tied in loose loops tipped her head. "—and this is Doctor Harris." A pale woman with vibrant blue eyes and hair the color of sunrise waved. "As we are aboard Captain William's vessel, I will open the floor to her."

Captain Williams stood. "First order of business is to contain the hostile threats. To that end I've had Tactical prep and execute an orbital suppression strategy with the assistance of the Navy—” she gestured to Commodore Yun. “—that will keep the Takarrans safe while we initiate evacuation protocols."

"If I may," Doctor Harris said. "I believe we should also send a team of researchers down to gather intelligence on potential solutions that don't involve gunfire."

Commodore Yun said something in a new language that didn’t get translated.

Sunset lifted a hand as she'd seen Doctor Harris do. "I'm sorry, I can't understand what he said."

Román translated for her. "He said he finds the risk unacceptable."

Sunset hummed and rippled her gills to show her agreement. "It is best to destroy them."

"With respect to you, Sunset, their ability to reverse engineer so quickly would be a huge benefit to our own arsenal, never mind the counter strategies we could employ. Let’s also not forget that we must prepare ourselves for the inevitability of their accelerated progression."

Commodore Yun spoke again, and Román translated. "They are a threat to the galaxy, and to study them would waste precious time to defeat them before they become a bigger problem. Better to save who we can within a limited time window and glass the planet."

"Glass the planet?" Arta asked. His ears pointed forward and edged his question with anxiety.

"He means a massive, coordinated attack to destroy everything on the surface. An option that is completely out of order," the vice admiral said. "There are sentient life forms that for better or worse require our assistance."

Commodore Yun crossed his arms and grumbled. "We should still take a more offensive approach."

Arta raised his hand and stood as he had seen others do. "Evacuating the Ki’Tak will not be difficult. There aren’t many left. With Sunset’s and your assistance, I believe your presence will aide in convincing our people.” Sunset flipped an ear. They weren't her people any more than she was theirs. "She has spent much time avoiding the t’ozah—"

"T’ozah? The robots?" Román asked.

"Yes. But like this." Arta demonstrated the click made to properly pronounce the word. Román repeated it and Arta applauded his effort, like a parent applauding their child for uttering their first syllables. "The t’ozah must be stopped, but I believe the Ki'Tak will follow us once they see the reality. We can no longer live life free of technology."

"Well, I cannot click the way Román can, so I will call them by the code name we gave them, Cryptobots," Doctor Harris said.

Vice Admiral Fehr said, "I agree with Arta, but to keep Commodore Yun appeased, I will allow the Navy to send an escort to provide extra security to their team. Dr. Harris, I'm afraid it’s still too dangerous to send a manned team to do any kind of research."

"But—"

"At best, you may have a small scanning team in low orbit gather as much data as you can until the threat has been contained, understood?"

Dr. Harris folded her arms and gave a curt nod. Sunset grimaced at the radiating heat of her displeasure. The door opened and another woman came in, her uniform’s black center was decorated with swirling whirlpools of dazzling colors and pinpricks of twinkling white lights.

"Apologies for the late entrance, Oded."

"You had a long way to travel, admiral. I'm glad you made it," the vice admiral said. He and all the other aliens stood and saluted. Sunset and Arta stood and tried to imitate the salute.

The age lines in the admiral's golden skin deepened when she smiled, save for a long scar that ran the length of her cheek bone to her ear. "You are esteemed guests here, Arta and Sunset, but I appreciate the gesture. Have we reached an agreement on a course of action?"

Commodore Yun stiffened. "Yes. Though not one I fully approve of. I will provide an escort for the Takarrans. The nerds can stay behind and take pictures from space." He smirked while Dr. Harris scowled. "And we will maintain a remote defensive ready position."

"Admiral Reyes, I would like to accompany them as well," Román said.

"Denied. I need you back out on a scouting mission. An Alien Assistance liaison is waiting for them as well as Commodore Yun's escort. Once we’re finished here, which it appears we are, you may show them to the shuttle bay, say your goodbyes and then deploy immediately. Understood?"

"Yes, Ma'am," the congregation answered in unison.

They rose, performed another salute, and left. Sunset and Arta exchanged confused looks, then sought Román's direction. His jaw worked from side to side and he sighed before turning to the Ki'Tak. He jerked his head toward the door, which Sunset took to mean to follow him. Arta surmised the same and drifted behind Román as he led them down an elevator, through several winding hallways, and out a large, double-sliding door. Sunset gasped. She and Arta stopped in the middle of the doorway. It took Román a few seconds to notice they'd stopped following him. He followed their gaze.

"You didn't notice the shuttle bay doors stayed open?"

Sunset felt a deep well of sadness, fear, and wonder press against her chest. Beyond the sleek shuttles waited rows of aggressive craft with giant barrels strapped to their wings, and a maw opened to a deep abyss pinpricked by a myriad of winking lights. Lazy swirls of clouds floated across the deep blues of her oceans. Specks of vibrant green dotted them, and awe filled her as she recognized shorelines.

"That's..." She cooed and her gills flattened tight. "How are we not falling out?"

Román smiled. He lifted a hand and pointed. "See that ring of light? It's what creates the forcefield that keeps us inside and the vacuum from pulling us out."

"And to think, simple flight was once something we never considered. Now we drift in the heavens." Arta's spears clinked on the metal floor. Two officers paraded up to them. One wore a solid red uniform whose muscles strained against its fabric. He flashed them a wide smile and tipped his head.

"Hello, I'm Sergeant Greene, and I'll be your tactical support. I'll do my best to keep you all safe." He extended a hand and Román shook it. Sunset and Arta followed suit. The woman at his side, with features similar to Commodore Yun, beamed with excitement and took up a quarter of the space Sergeant Greene did. She offered her hand to Sunset first.

"I'm ecstatic to meet you, Sunset. I am Dr. Jun Ji-hyun, but you can just call me Jun," she said. Her black hair tied behind her head bounced.

"Your pronunciation is very good," Arta said.

"Oh good, I was hoping my adjustments to the clicks and tones were correct. I am the linguist and cultural lead for the Alien Assistance Agency. I'm here to keep this one—" Jun pointed her thumb and Sergeant Greene. "—in check. Make sure he doesn't say or do anything untoward. I'm looking for—"

"We need to go." Sunset said. Her gills flared. If they were to get the rest of the Ki'Tak out, they would need to go quickly.

"Agreed. It was...quite the experience getting to meet you, Sunset. I wish you the best of luck. Chuck," Román said as he glanced at Sergeant Greene. “Keep them safe.” Sunset chirped a slow set of clicks and extended her hand. Román grinned and shook it.

"Thank you," she said.

He dipped his head and turned around to head back into the ship. Sunset watched him go and something pulled at her stomach. It flipped and twisted and wanted to follow, but she instead returned her attention to the two new escorts.

"I need a weapon," she said. Arta offered her father's spear. She hissed.

"I had the shuttle outfitted with an armory. You can choose on your way down, but I don't want to dally any longer. Let's get going." Sergeant Greene led them to a shuttle, and as they boarded, Sunset glanced back at the double doors leading back to the ship. Where would Román go next? What wonders would he witness before any other being? That strange feeling in her rose again as the shuttle's door closed and cut off her view.

< Exodus

The Sunset Chronicles

Second Exodus>

To the extent possible under law, Victor Arteaga has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to The Sunset Chronicles. This work is published from: United States.

The Sunset Chronicles

by Victor Arteaga

Chronicle 1

Chapter 1: Exodus

Chapter 2: Dawn

Chapter 3: Second Exodus

Chapter 4: Morning Twilight

Chapter 5: Morning Part 1

Chronicle 2

Chapter 6: Morning Part 2

To the extent possible under law, Victor Arteaga has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to The Sunset Chronicles. This work is published from: United States.

Exodus

By Victor Arteaga

A soft tone and gradual raise of ambient light pulled Román from slumber.

“Good morning, Scout Cisneros,” said a dispassionate AI voice. “We have arrived at star system HD 142. Please prepare for landing.”

Román eased himself up and commanded the AI to get his uniform ready with a hand gesture. A hanger slid out of a hidden panel on the wall next to his bed. The single-piece outfit featured a nebula swirling over twinkling stars on the smart fabric around the torso and the PLAS logo of a telescope crossed over a comet above a wreath of laurels on both shoulders. At the white bedside table rested two wide wrist bands. He slipped them on, and the SMARTBANDS booted up with a flash of tiny lights. He tapped a compartment next to the door of his small quarters, revealing a rack holding his sidearm. He slipped it into one holster.

“Recommendation from Captain Williams. She says to make sure you bring your rebreather, and to wear your standard issue PLAS boots instead of, and I quote, ‘those raggedy-ass boots you’ve had since cadet training.’”

Román chuckled. A small droid on a tripod of wheels and a platform brought him a steaming cup of coffee.

“Oh, she also said that the Clergy will not be anointing you the Patron Saint of Blisters, as you are still alive, and wearing uncomfortable shoes is not a deed worthy enough of sainthood.”

“Well, there goes my claim to fame.”

“Indeed.”

“How long ‘til we land?”

“Minutes after you assume control of the cockpit.”

“Guess I should get started then.”

Román left his room, passed through the small circular living area with a table and a more advanced food synthesizer, hung a left, and walked the short hallway to the cockpit. He sat down in the chair, went through the authorization protocols and set a course. The glass went transparent, treating him to a view he never grew tired of. A new planet with vast oceans, a couple of moderate continents, and the rest dappled with systems of islands and archipelagos orbiting a large, bright yellow star. The ship’s AI plotted the entry trajectory and Román authorized the flight. He sipped his coffee and watched the flames flick up from the nose of his ship as he broke atmo. The ship’s wings extended out for atmospheric flight, and his seat vibrated with gears working underneath. His landing location was a patch of grass off a white-sand beach that bordered a lush jungle.

“That was quick,” Román said as he pounded the rest of his coffee. He ambled back to the rear of the ship, turned left into the living room and lifted his helmet off a hook on the wall. He slipped on his PLAS boots, much to his chagrin, and took a deep breath. He whispered a prayer before putting his helmet on. The smartcloth of his uniform crept up his neck and sealed to the bottom of the helmet. An air filter flipped up off the top. He thumbed the exit button, and the door hissed open and lowered itself down onto the ground. He left the ship and let the filter on his helmet bring up an HUD on the visor that read the results of the air scan. Near ideal mix of gasses, air pressure, and temperature for human life. He took off his helmet and used his SMARTBANDS to summon a communication array bot. It rolled out of the ship on dual treads, stopped at his side, planted down onto the ground, and extended a dual antenna.

“Preliminary scouting report: submitted by Scout First Class Román Cisneros, Patron Saint of Uncomfortable Feet. Arriving on the fifth planet orbiting HD 142. Temperature is a balmy 27 Celsius, UV radiation is one-point-three times Earth standard, ozone intact with surprisingly optimal levels of gases. Humidity is sixty-one percent, no immediate signs of life. Vegetation is healthy, mostly green. It is approximately midday; sun is near the center of the sky. Scans picked up a large city nearby, about two and a half kilometers away. Beginning initial perimeter check. Cisneros, out.” He waited until the communication array confirmed the dispatch of his missive. He checked his sidearm for charge and set it back. His zipped up the holster with the rebreather and set his uniform to basic camo. The fabric shifted into a mottled, grayish green jungle pattern.

“Okay. Let’s uncover your secrets,” he said and ventured into the verdant unknown.

He picked his way around vibrant brush and tangled roots, ducking under vines and low-hanging branches. The further he trudged on, the more the silence weighed his steps with caution; there were no insects buzzing, birds cooing, or small animals chittering; odd for such a habitat. The only sounds were his labored breathing, the swish of branches as he brushed them aside, and the ruffling of leaves in the occasional breeze.

His SMARTBANDS notified him he was nearing the outskirts of the city. He pushed through another tall bush and came to the abrupt end of the forest. He remained within its cover and, in whispers accompanied by furtive glances at his surroundings, dictated his findings into a report.

A field of trimmed grass and manicured soil lay just beyond the brush. Small bulbous metal buildings dotted the manicured landscape in sparse density in an almost perfect circle around the city, coiling tighter together in progressive layers. Past the first layer, roughly twenty-five meters in, the buildings grew in size; though, instead of defined floors, they looked modular, like a collection of bubbles. Antennae peeked over the cloudy barrier and Román could barely distinguish individual buildings past the wall. A burbling creek snaked through the outskirts of the city like a lasso joined by a bigger stream within the city. The delta of the river ran parallel to a street leading to a gate of polished metal and shining glass, and a gargantuan tower the glimmered in the midday sun. An advanced, functional city. No intelligent life anywhere. The road ended at the trees where roots erupted from beneath the pavement, reclaiming their stake on the land. The river, however, flowed away from the street.

Curiosity urged Román to follow the river. Half a kilometer’s walk brought him to a perfectly circular lake nestled in the middle of the jungle. He lifted his hand and the SMARTBAND measured the lake to be half a click in diameter. He dipped it into the water and the BAND emitted a sonar pulse. The readout blinked on the screen of his wrist.

DEPTH:7.08 METERS

FLOOR ELEVATION: .4 METERS.

SEDIMENT: LOW

CONCLUSION: ARTIFICIAL, SAFE FOR FREE-DIVE

Suspicion swelled in his stomach. He put his hand back in the cool water.

“Full topographical scan.”

He held his arms up in parallel, and the arm bands projected a three-dimensional visualization of the lake floor. As expected, it was mostly flat with some bumps and rises easily attributable to algal growth or clumps of dirt. Still, he couldn’t shake that ominous pit in his stomach. He pulled his rebreather out of the holster and bit down on the mouthpiece. Two small plugs rose to seal his nostrils. His uniform shifted into a black wetsuit and he leaped into the water. He dove until his ears complained at the pressure, then enabled the lights on his SMARTBANDS. Dual beams of white light pierced the water, and he swept his hand over the sediment on the bottom. No aquatic life; the floor was entirely covered in algae. He changed the setting on his boots. The tips flattened and extended into makeshift flippers. He glided over the floor, scanning for anything. He circled around, intent on returning to the surface, when something glinted on the floor.

He paddled to the piece of metal sticking out of the ground. He brushed off the dirt and lifted it up. A blade. Curved and short with a bent, jagged stem indicating it had broken off something. He reached his hand down to lift the debris on the lake floor. He scraped the algae off to reveal white bone. His pulse spiked. He frowned. Hoping against hope, swallowing his anxiety, he let go of the long bone and swept his hand across the bottom. Bits of more bone, whole pieces of long, short, and joint bones floated up in a swarm of little bubbles. Beneath those lay more bones. The pit in his belly solidified into nausea and he measured his breathing to keep from overloading his rebreather. A skull floated past the beam of light. Humanoid, with three canines to each human’s one. Was the whole floor just a pile of bones? He plunged his hand deeper. No dirt beneath this layer. He did another deep scan. The actual floor of the lake was another ten meters deep. How many thousands lay resting in that lake?

That meant…a layer twenty-five feet deep of corpses. This wasn’t a lake. It was a mass grave. He hung in place, fighting back the fear building in his throat, pressed his hand to the skull and closed his eyes. He prayed for the dead, letting the sorrow fill his chest, and gently returned the cracked skull to its resting place.

With his heart sunk, he swam to the surface and rushed back to his shuttle. When his ship was just within sight, a crash in forest gave him pause. He held his breath and listened. Another crash prompted him to whip out his sidearm, arm it, and sprint toward the ship.

“Hey!” he yelled.

Something flashed an array of colors, made a jittering high-pitched sound, ducked behind the ship, and splashed into the ocean. The shattered console on his communication array sparked. He sprinted inside to find the entire ship had been ransacked. Wires lay in slashed bits, panels from the wall lay in disarray, his food synthesizer had been smashed onto the floor. Even from the living space he could see the pieces of shattered glass, and the door to the engine bay had been pried open, the metal bent. He didn’t want to imagine what damage had been done there.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Computer!”

“Online. Severe damage detected to peripheral hardware across the ship.”

“Can we take off?”

“Negative. Rupture detected in the fuel line to engine two. Lift thrusters are operational; however, flight is not possible.”

“Hijo de su…” He huffed through gritted his teeth. “Okay. Is there anything within the city that I can use to repair the comms array? I’d rather not have to wait a day before they begin the missing scout protocols.” He clicked the safety of his sidearm on and off, waiting for the computer to run through data.

“Affirmative. There is substantial radio wave frequency near the center of the city suggesting an active and sophisticated communications system. However, I have detected the presence of explosive munitions, so I suggest proceeding into the city with caution.”

“Okay then.” Román set his jaw and went to his room. Thankfully, it was left mostly intact. He grabbed an emergency ration pod and set it in the same holster as the rebreather. He recorded the update of events, found his helmet under the table, and headed to the city.

He came to the edge of the road that went straight into the city. Whatever was capable of genocide on that level was still here, and the city kept running. He needed to be a ghost. He activated the active camo setting on his suit and donned his helmet. His uniform, helmet included, shimmered again but not to blend. Instead, it recreated his surroundings, so he was as good as invisible. He crept in with light steps, taking note of the slums he passed by. The deeper he ventured in, the starker the differences between the two areas became. The paved road split into a web that covered the entire city with bridges over the network of canals where floating vessels, contrary to the slums, were sleek and pointed. Buildings were rectangular with rounded edges and organized with tiered floors. Each building had at least one clear pipe that pumped water into some sections of the buildings.

In the center of the city, vehicles of varying size and length shared a three-wheeled style frame curved styling and roamed—no, patrolled—on automated loops through the downtown area. He swallowed the lump building in his throat. AI controlled self-driving vehicles? Sophisticated communication system? They might have had an AI singularity event. He thanked his God he had the foresight to engage active camo.

He watched for a time and counted between their passing, noting the scant seconds where they left their domain unattended. He tensed his legs, waiting, and then sprinted between their patrols. He flinched as one of the vehicles flitted by as he stood in front of the entrance to the tower at the center, but the machines only had eyes for obstacles along their routes.

The canal around the tower spanned twice the width as the rest of the city’s waterways. A single bridge served as the only means of ingress and egress. Arches rose along the length of the bridge ending in a large, closed double door. Román counted at least four pipes in his view rising from the moat into the building. The tower rose in diminishing tiers that started wide at the base, and at the top, crystalline sheets of water cascaded down, coating the entire building, pooling into a small recess on each tier. He slunk around the perimeter of the building, catching glimpses of odd furniture, moving screens, and solid walls. Small, circular automated robots floated through the moats like pool filters. He took a scan of the one closest to him. An alarm blared.

“That can’t be good.”

A light at the top of the filtration bot lit up red. It flattened and the middle spun and shot up out of the moat on a pillar of water. The top of the bot opened and revealed a laser sighted weapon with four barrels.

His eyes widened and he sprang backward. “Shit!”

It fired. The quad blast hit him square in the chest. His uniform reacted instantly to cushion and protect against the small-arms fire, but Román’s breath left him and his active camo shut off. He stumbled forward and rolled, his training taking over. The bot loaded another payload. Román pulled his sidearm and fired a blast of blue plasma. It hit the bot and melted through the middle of it, igniting its power source. The bot exploded.

He sighed in relief—and another alarm blared.

One of the patrolling vehicles—a car with two wheels at the front powered by a large third at the back—spun around and rocketed his way. Román dodged, narrowly avoiding getting plastered by it. A hum sounded in the air. Román’s hair stood on end. The vehicle stopped; its back end lifted off and spun around an axis. A small cannon flipped out of its front. Román fired. The blast hit the barrel. The bot ejected the damaged weapon, squatted down, and covered its wheels in metallic armor. It buzzed and reshaped its front from a pointed nose to a flat plate. He fired again. The plasma bounced off the plate and into another building, burning a hole through a window.

“That’s definitely not good.”

He sprinted at the hole in the window he’d made. The bot’s tires screeched after him. He leaped through the opening, rolled just as the bot crashed through the glass, bounced up, and collided with the ceiling. Sparks flew from the damaged hull of the vehicle where its pilot was meant to sit. The rear wheel pulled the bot back into the street dragging its broken left tire and out of sight. Román breathed a sigh of relief.

A projectile slammed into his helmet. The visor shattered, his head whiplashed to the side, and he fell on his shoulder. Dizzy, he pulled his helmet off and cut his hand on something. It was a circular blade exactly like the one he found in the lake. A whirring sound came from in front of him. He rolled backward and another blade lodged into the ground where he had just laid. His nerves coiled his muscles to standing and he bumped into a wall. A bot on four pointed legs standing on a counter in the back corner of the room with a square body produced another blade. Román fired; the bot melted, its legs falling apart from its body on the counter. Behind it, an array of kitchen machines came to life. He fired at all of them, setting everything ablaze. Román panted, wide eyes darting about as the fires died down. He leaned against the wall and took stock of his surroundings. It had the makings of a restaurant: small tables, chairs, but all too small for him to sit comfortably. In fact, his head was uncomfortably close to the ceiling.

He winced. His chest ached with every breath, and he hoped he didn’t crack a rib. His suit couldn’t take another hit like that. He had to get back to the ship. Eventually rescue would come; PLAS protocol gave him another ten hours. He just had to—

A roar came from outside. Another armored vehicle rolled in front of the gaping entryway. Its front wheels popped out larger, plated cannons. They spooled up and plasma glowed in the barrel.

He shook his head. “No way. It reverse eng—”

Something yanked him by the back of his uniform out of the room just as the bot fired. Both blasts seared past him and destroyed the entire restaurant. He stood in a dark hallway. He looked up and gasped. The creature, clothed with exposed arms, lower legs and bare wide feet lifted a hand with sharp nails. Román opened his mouth to speak, but it slammed its hand over his mouth and brought its face close to his. Román stared at his reflection in its black sclera. Diamond iris, skin an iridescent mix of red and purple. It held a spear with a jagged blade in its other hand. No lips, small mouth, and—based on the skull he saw in the lake—he knew it would have sharp teeth. Prehensile ears swiveled atop its head. It straightened and pulled its hand away. Román wiped his mouth and tasted salt. It walked away and down the hall, turned, and waited for Román to follow. It made a gesture toward its mouth then pointed at him with its spear. Román furrowed his brow. It made the same gesture again. He grabbed his rebreather from his holster. It made a whishing sound and gills on the sides of its neck flared.

“Than—”

It whirled and rushed at him. He dodged to the side and tried to counter. It slammed the butt of its spear into his stomach, then covered his mouth. Another blare from the tower sounded. The creature made a chittering, hissing sound, grabbed his arm, and lifted him off the ground and back into the smoldering kitchen. Román pulled his arm free and kept pace with it. They crossed the room to the other side, vaulting the counter to rush past eerily familiar appliances—a metallic, rectangular one caught his eye. A toaster? he thought.

Román’s escort led him up a short flight of stairs and into an empty room, save for a translucent wall connected to a water pipe. It leaped through the film and into the water, plunging down into the depths below. Román hesitated; and then the grind and scrape of metal on the floor lit up every nerve in his body. He threw on his rebreather and jumped through the membrane into the pipe. He swallowed his nausea as the pressure sucked him down into the vast expanse of water below the city. The creature took off at a dangerous pace and, even with his boots set to swim, Román couldn’t keep up. It peeked over its shoulder. Bubbles burst from its gills and it reared its arm back and hurled the spear. It shot past Román and impaled a filter bot about to fire. The creature rushed back and retrieved its spear before the bot sunk to the black deep beneath.

That’s when Román realized the tower dove far below the surface. Deeper than he could see. Primed with a new sense of urgency, he followed his savior until they surfaced near the wall of the city. The hum of plasma firing up flipped his stomach. They both turned and the three-wheeled vehicle that waited for them at the entrance to the city had since upgraded from two small turrets to one giant cannon on the cockpit. Román fired three shots at the cannon. The car slid sideways. He rushed at it. The creature screeched and waved its arms, but Román had an idea. The car backed away as he fired more shots. That big of a gun needed more time to charge, and the guard plate was on the front of the car, not the top. He bought them enough time to run around the wall and into the slums. Another wailing alarm echoed from the city. The roar of multiple engines running at once sent a shiver down Román’s spine.

“I hope you have another way out of here,” he said to his new friend. It gave him an indecipherable look, turned, and sprinted, weaving through the dilapidated buildings. They entered one of them through a flap of cloth and into what Román could only surmise was a bathroom. The creature pointed the spear at a glorified urinal.

“You’re joking.”

It tapped the spear on the exit again.

“Well. I suppose it’s been abandoned for centuries.”

An explosion rocked the building. The bots were blowing up random buildings in their search. Time was up; he put his rebreather back on and dove into the pipe. It rushed him through turning twists, and he banged against the sides until he flew out of the end of a pipe and flopped into the tranquil blue waters of a bay. The creature dove gracefully into the depths and arose near the shore, beckoning him to join. They walked to a small cave hidden behind a waterfall. Inside were two other people, similar in size and build, but both a bit shorter with different colored skin. The red one lacked an arm and the purple one’s knee bent at an awkward angle. Both of their colorings were flat, not iridescent like the creature Román had first met. They made loud vocalizations and wild gestures toward the one that saved him. It replied with its own set of gestures, clicks, hisses and growls as they came closer to their small camp. A lamp illuminating the place with bioluminescent bugs hung off the ceiling. A small hut rested underneath it, along with a rock formation serving as a table. A rack held aloft a tentacled animal drying. Next to it lay a skinned rodent and a collection of plants from the shore bundled together. Román’s stomach grumbled. The trio of creatures snapped their heads to him. He pointed to the food and then to his stomach. The purple one’s gills flared, pressed his ears back, and bared his sharp canines.

“No idea what that means,” Román mumbled, but it wasn’t a difficult guess.

The iridescent one spoke to him. Román held up a hand and turned on the SMARTBAND. The elders hissed and took offensive postures.

“Hold on. We can communicate if you give me just a second. Begin language discovery protocol.”

A beep notified him to begin. Román scooped up some water, then spoke the word. He repeated for emphasis. His savior made a small finger gesture and spoke. The SMARTBAND logged the entry and repeated the vocalization. The iridescent being blinked and corrected him with the hand gesture. The computer logged the change and Román led them through more vocabulary until the SMARTBAND had enough to compile the basics of the language. Through the process, the red one brought him some food after he mentioned he hadn’t eaten yet. During their meal, he learned that they were called Takarrans, and that his savior, a woman whose name meant Sunset, lived in the cave caring for her parents. They fled their respective societies to protect their child. Mixing of Red and Purple Takarrans was forbidden, and they suffered their injuries protecting their daughter and fleeing to safety. It was Sunset who destroyed his ship, fearful that the bots in the city had begun expanding. Through further conversation in basic terms, the computer quickly adapted its algorithm to fix errors and soon they conversed fluidly with help from his SMARTBANDs—something her parents never missed an opportunity to express their distaste for. The brief history lesson about the bots, their civil war, and subsequent AI arms race made a little sense. It explained the mass grave.

“Sunset,” he said. She responded with an ear flick. “I need to get back to my ship. Soon, others will come to find me, and I have to be as close to that site as possible. Can you lead me back?”

She hesitated. “What will they do?”

“It depends on what you want. If you want us to do nothing, then we will simply leave. But,” he raised a finger and regarded the Red Takarran. “I don’t think you, Temerity, will let us make you a new arm, but it’s an option. And you, Tak’arna.” Sunset’s father, the Purple Takarran, growled. He demanded Román use his name instead of an English translation. “We can reset your leg so it will heal properly. Instead of being dependent on your daughter, you can help keep yourselves healthy.”

“The trip will be difficult,” Sunset said.

“We cannot travel as easily as Sunset can,” Temerity growled.

“I can help. This—” He showed them the rebreather. “—will keep me alive underwater if we have to swim far. If we go by land, I can be of even more use.”

Tak’arna hissed and his gills flared again. Temerity scolded him to no effect. Román tried a different tactic. Tak’arna was too much like Román’s old man.

“Tak’arna, I also have a child. Don’t think of it as accepting help and being in debt. Instead, consider it an avenue to further protect your daughter. You could fight, once again, with your own body and keep her safe. You sacrificed your whole culture for her. Pride did not dissuade you then; don’t let it deter you now.” Tak’arna bared his teeth and stood, but then faltered on his bad leg. He grumbled, grasped his knee, and sat back down. He made a dismissive sign with his hands in agreement. They finished eating a bit more, Román recorded the events of the day and they set off to his camp.

It wasn’t a long trip, and Tak’arna managed to keep up well enough despite his labored to swimming. They emerged from the ocean where he had landed.

Román’s heart sank, and the Takarrans flared their gills and whistled in disbelief. Giant metal ribs of the ship’s frame rose from the sand. Pieces of shrapnel peppered the sand, the wings were gone, the cockpit’s stolen control console left a gaping hole at the front. The entire rear half of the ship, hypercapacitors, rockets, hyperdrive, had been taken. The communication array’s internal circuitry was gone. Horror crept up Román’s neck. He turned to the Takarrans.

“We have to warn the others. They can—” A crash interrupted him. A series of giant gears grinding, whirring, and clanging erupted from the city.

“We have to find them, now!” Román pleaded to Sunset.

“You don’t understand, they won’t listen to you. The purple Takarrans are so stuck in their ways, my father is the most progressive they will likely ever see.”

“Sunset, listen. They’re going to be able to fly. Soon, they’ll reverse-engineer my hyperdrive. We need to warn them now.”

“I don’t know that word.”

“It means they’ll be able fly beyond the sky.”

Her jaw fell open.

“We’ll have better luck with the Red Takarrans. They’re more likely to listen,” Temerity said while her daughter collected herself.

A bot crashed through the trees toward them. Román fired a handful of blasts at it, melting it. He yelled at his companions to run. A deep thump shook through the forest. The roar of jet engines from the city filled him with dread as he sprinted to the shoreline. The engines sputtered and failed, but he knew it was only a matter of time. Another filtration bot sprang out of the water, its quad fire blast at the ready, aimed at Sunset. Tak’arna screamed, his guttural battle cry raising every hair on Román’s body. Tak’arna threw himself on the bot just as it fired. The rounds punched through his body and he slumped on top of the bot. Sunset and Temerity shrieked. Román grabbed them both by the arm and led them away as the bot tried to get out from under Tak’arna’s corpse.

Another blast and a roar from the city shook the leaves of the trees near them. They were out of time. He yanked them both into the water and he set his boots to flippers as they sped toward one of the outlying islands. Román swam as fast as he could to keep up, his legs and arms aching and burning with the extended swim.

A Red hunter Takarran, a spear in hand, stopped dead in his swim at their approach. He sped to an opening in the rock wall of a cliff. Sunrise made hand motions for Román to be careful. She and Temerity led the way, and as they came into the cave, they were greeted by an entourage of hunters with various spears and rudimentary weapons leveled on them. An older Red Takarran pushed past his guard.

“Temerity? What do you th—"

“They can fly,” Temerity yelled.

At this, the entire congregation dropped their weapons save for one. He kept his aim squarely on Román. He opened his mouth to speak when an explosion rocked the cavern. Panicked clicks and high-pitched whistles echoed in the cavern. One of them screamed about the sentry post above ground.

“You kept a sentry posted for the bots?” Román asked.

“No, for the Purples,” the leader replied. The rest of the hunters ran into a series of tunnels, echoing their cries of warning and calls for family to gather belongings.

“What do I call you?” Román asked the leader.

“My name is Arta.”

“Where are we going?”

“They are going to another location. We—” He pointed to Román. “—are going to the surface. My grandfather believed one day they would leave the city, and left us a device to protect ourselves. I only hope that explosion was not it.”

He led Román to an area near the back, with Sunrise and Temerity following. Arta huffed in displeasure at their presence but did not dismiss them. They ran to his home, the largest one in the caves, and he pushed a boulder out of the way revealing a hidden path to an internal river flowing upward. They rode the current to the surface where a canopy of leaves hid a cannon. The dark metal glinted in the sun, its barrel large enough Román could fit himself in it. The weapon perched on a series of metal legs attached to the rock of the island.

Román whistled. “This will definitely buy them some time.”

“Good.”

Arta pressed a button and a targeting HUD popped up by the handles. He took control, and the cannon came to life, turning on a mechanical swivel. A flying bot screamed overhead, and the HUD tracked it through the canopy. It locked on, loaded a round, and fired. The rocket blew apart the canopy and exposed the twilight sky. The bot tried to evade, but the shot clipped a wing and the craft spiraled into the ocean. Nobody celebrated. Silence hung in the air for several eternal heartbeats as they kept their eyes skyward. Jet engines coursing through the sky preceded the HUD’s scan. Arta let off a rapid-fire volley at the oncoming bots, but the jets flew higher to buy themselves more time to react.

“Jesus, they learn quick. Bait tactics after one encounter. No wonder—”

Arta shushed him. He managed to shoot one down, while the other three circled back. Their plasma cannons lit up the night as they readied for a strafing pass.

Green beams lanced down from the heavens, splitting all three of the jets in half. Román whooped and cheered; the Takarrans gasped. Román’s SMARTBAND beeped and he accepted the call. His captain’s face popped up on the screen. The black beads on her braided hair matched the obsidian of her skin.

“You’re early, ma’am.”

“I was in the neighborhood.”

“Never been happier for an unsolicited visit. A word of advice, captain: move quickly. The AI in the city is far more advanced than we thought. They reverse engineered my ship in an afternoon and gave themselves flight. We need to move fast before they spread across the planet, and we need to relocate the Takarrans.”

“Understood. Transport is on its way.”

“I will get as many as I can,” Sunrise said and sprinted away.

“Find me on the beach,” Román called after her.

She flipped both ears and tilted her head: a gesture he hadn’t seen yet. He and Arta helped Temerity down to the beach as winks of light in the night sky turned into shuttles breaking through the atmosphere. A retinue of bots flew to intercept and shot down two of the four landing craft. The surviving shuttles returned fire and landed on the beach near Román. He requested a squadron of fighters to help stave of the coming wave of fighter bots.

“Squadron Four scrambled now. Hold tight,” Captain Williams said.

Sunset rose from the sea, leading only four Takarrans.

“These are the only ones who will come.”

Román noted they were just one family. Two parents and two children.

“That’s fine, we can work on getting the rest of the Takarrans later. For now, let’s get everyone out as much as we can and keep the AI occupied while the rest make their escape. We know what kind of life bio signs to search for. Right now, we need to save you while we can.”

The Takarrans hurried onboard the ship. The children sprinted inside, cooing with awe at the alien sights. Román clambered into the pilot seat and lifted them off.

“Hold on tight!”

The Takarrans yelped as the craft lurched forward and rockets punched them to escape velocity.

“Launch detected,” a female AI reported.

Out the port side, a streak of light curved away from the planet, but caught fire as it passed through the stratosphere.

“Our world is no longer safe,” Sunrise said, with a quiet coo signifying sadness from behind Román.

“No. But at least you are.”

The planet shrank below them as the shuttle floated toward the looming command ship in orbit.

“’Ta Madre!” Román pounded the arm of his chair.

“What?” Sunset asked.

“I lost my favorite boots.”

the Sunset Chronicles

Dawn>

To the extent possible under law, Victor Arteaga has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to The Sunset Chronicles. This work is published from: United States.