Live or Die Trilogy Read online

  “Eldgh, I believe you! And I don't know how to thank you.”

  “Say your goodbyes now,” the Taahrian said, directing him towards the pilot's cabin.

  Namiko was laid out in there, inside a kind of glass display case. She seemed to have a more serene expression than he had seen at the hospital. Watching her, he sensed her shallow breathing and thought how beautiful she was, how much he loved her, and, above all, how much he would miss her.

  “Goodbye,” he told her, putting a hand on the case.

  There was no need to say more. Just a couple of long looks was enough. After less than a minute, Sirio was back by his car, being hit by a blast of air from the Taahrian shuttle's launch that, very soon, would be lost among hundreds of others. And, the next morning, when Betelgeuse's huge propulsion system would light up the sky, the soul of a woman would be lost among thousands of stars.

  8

  No New Year's fireworks could compare to what the world saw exploding in the heavens.

  It was the largest global festival that had ever been celebrated.

  It began with one mortar, then others followed, until there were hundreds of thousands of them.

  Fireworks began to cavort in the celestial realm, in patterns of color and sound. Children all over the Earth stood open-mouthed upon seeing cobalt blue rain descending with explosions of emerald green, silver bombs and golden trails. The sounds of the fireworks were accompanied by classical dances, folk and tribal; corks from champagne and sparkling wine popped into the air; cries of joy and tears of emotion were exchanged by millions of people, under a colorful sky, on the ruins of a world that was again flourishing.

  Only those who had to guarantee the operation of public utilities were forced to miss the Great Night, the first, in more than three years, in which there were no alien ships seen in any corner of the Earth.

  If, in the two weeks before, the Taahrians' surprise decision to leave the planet had caused confusion and indignation, the awareness that they now, once again, were the architects of their own destiny, without continuous monitoring from up in the sky, was inciting uncontrolled excitement, with celebrations of every kind and unheard-of revelry.

  However, a careful observer would've noticed small isolated groups and thousands of individuals, all distant from one another, who were far away from the parties around the world: women who had lost their children, men in search of a long-gone world, defunct public officials, scientists without purpose, and people devoid of every option; people like Sirio, hidden in dark corners and forgotten.

  What did I do? he lamented.

  What if I've condemned her to hell? What would Haruki and his wife have said? Will I ever be able to look upon her again? No, I won't. So I'll escape, going far away, where they can never find me, taking the easiest and most wretched way out, like always, which is inevitable as it's just another part of my existence.

  “The bright spot in the sky is gone and you're not there any more, Namiko. Who will I embrace to share what I'm feeling inside? Who will be there to caress me when I wake up? Who will light up the dark days of my life? No one! No one! No one will be there!” the man shouted desperately, prey to hysterical tears, as he hadn't been for over thirty years, since those Sunday evenings when fate had condemned him to remain in that miserable orphanage.

  “Please forgive me!” he yelled to the sky, fearing that he might've made a mistake, that Namiko might hate him forever, for having sentenced her to an existence far away from him, her parents, and everything else, to live alone in space with the indigo-skinned beings.

  “Why did I have to play God again?” he asked, screaming to an audience of trees, rocks and wild animals.

  “Come back! Come back and take care of me. Kill me!” he yelled to the sounds of strange animal noises, in the wildest part of the Australian outback. “What do I have to live for anyway?”

  Instead, he continued to live, with no escape.

  He went to tell Namiko's parents and, if it wasn't for the intervention of Kahori, her husband would have killed Sirio with his bare hands. Sirio was instead rejected and turned away for all eternity, as the result of a meeting that lasted only a few minutes, in which there was no place for any justification.

  Sirio returned to Rome, to a city in chaos which would be difficult to resurrect, due to the need to recover such a vast amount of artistic heritage.

  For a month, he thought often about his fellow adventurers on board Alpha Orionis. Maybe one day he would go find them, perhaps even Franz, who was locked away in some prison in Northern Europe.

  But there was no time, day or night, in which his heart could break free from the agony of not knowing Namiko's fate.

  Would she recover? Had they discovered her? And, if so, would Eldgh be able to guarantee her safety? Will Namiko be able to blend into their world, and not hate me for the rest of her life? And will she still love me? Will she suffer because she can't thank me for saving her life? What if, on the other hand, she falls in love with a Taahrian and forgets me forever? Or what if they brainwash her and manipulate her mind like they did with Igor. What if they're able to suppress all of her memories? My God, how did I not think of that. That would be the best solution to make her blend in. But it's not possible that her heart could forget about us. And what if they put her into hibernation? Or even worse, if their technology turns out to be ill-equipped for the biology of a human's body? What if they can't put her in suspended animation? She won't ever be able to see other worlds. She'll live and die on board a giant piece of flying metal, among drones and indigo beings. My God! My God!

  These were just some of the questions that began to fly through in his head, continuously and without answers.

  Then, one evening, an ironic and stirring event caused a new Betelgeuse to appear in the sky.

  It wasn't an alien craft or any other technological devilry, but a sudden supernova which appeared in the constellation of Orion. The star, whose name has been given to the Taahrian ship had reached the end of its life cycle, emitting as much energy as the Sun would throughout its entire existence, in an explosion that would reach one-tenth the speed of light.

  Sirio didn't need to consult anyone or anything to understand that second moon which had suddenly appeared in the sky. He knew nothing about astronomy, but the name Betelgeuse had defined his life in a way that would have made it impossible not to know where the star was and what was going to become of it.

  He smiled bitterly, knowing that the supernova would shine for weeks, if not months, forcing billions of Terrestrials to once again host a strange spot in their skies.

  My love, perhaps you can see it too...

  Parte VI

  Deception

  or

  Obsession with Power

  The huge sun at dusk lit up the magenta sky, with its rays touching high mountains and dense forests, where the trees had lavender trunks and bright silvery leaves. Myriad of streams converged into immense lakes or vanished into the depths of a vertical city, miles high and surrounded by immense astroports, intended to host the frenzied landing of hundreds of spaceships.

  Ikali was a world which had forgotten democracy and wiped out the glories of the Republic. They had become an imperial regime thousands of years ago, exploding with the advancement of space propulsion. They had begun to colonize entire worlds, in a sector of the galaxy in which no other civilized race seemed to have similar levels of technology.

  Their lust for power and a hoarding of resources had fueled a slow and inexorable expansion of the Ikalian Empire.

  The procedure for conquest had been designed by Hatmnal, one of the leading scientists and strategists in recorded history. It consisted of sending a large starship towards probable new worlds for colonization: an immense city in space, inhabited by genetically modified Ikalians, borne of genetic engineering and cybernetic nanotechnology. Beings controlled by chips, convinced of an illusory reality which had been installed in their minds, who would inevitably damage any civil
izations encountered in their path. This system's purpose was to establish contact with each new world, until the neural program would require the conquerors to leave, to then plunge back into a suspended animation that would take them to other worlds, in an endless cycle, directed by the Commander of the Ikalian Expansion Fleet via subspace waves.

  The alien race they would invade, left suddenly, abandoned and frightened, was always destined to receive new heavenly visitors within a few months. Beings who were similar but different from the elusive Taahrians. They called themselves liberators, those who had found and been forced to flee an ancient enemy, one who invaded and devoured other worlds; the perfect justification for their unexpected departure. Completing the reconstruction work, defeating deadly diseases, unselfishly sharing their knowledge, ensuring long life and prosperity, not ceasing to convince that world's occupants of the Ikalians' philanthropic role. Appearing to be motivated by religious beliefs which required them to share of themselves, both in terms of knowledge and possessions.

  They would ultimately remain there for decades, inserting themselves into the higher strata of society to establish their own power. Working together, their strength would grow, without ever touching a hair on anyone's head, in an ongoing veneration which would end, one way or another, in the complete administration of the new world.

  During the phases of conquest, they would study alien biology and learn all of their secrets, to create a means of neural conditioning, if it should prove necessary.

  A phenomenal millennial plan, supported by the conquest of twenty one worlds.

  “These pygmies, they always fall for it!” said Xnoris, the supervisor.

  “It's a shame we can't see their faces as they take in the story of Taahr, the artificial planetoid and the imaginary virus,” his colleague added, amused.

  “Yeah, but I may have the honor of visiting these Terrestrials.”

  “Really?” the other asked enviously.

  “I think that mine may be one of the first vessels to Blue C.”

  “You mean the Earth?”

  “Yes, Blue C, the Earth, whatever you want to call it.”

  “It seems like a nice planet, not like Atros, that big dust ball where I was sent twenty years ago.”

  “But it won't be a short trip: it's a hundred and eight light years away. I'll have to travel for six months.”

  “Six months? Isn't the Hatmnal system expecting us to arrive within two months of the time Betelgeuse departs?”

  “Speaking of Betelgeuse, did you know that the star from which it gets its name exploded?”

  “Yeah, I saw the data from the subspace probes. By our calculations, it would seem that the Terrestrials can already see it in their sky.”

  “We'll have to invent a new story and reprogram our friends' chips before they run into another civilization.”

  “It won't be all that difficult.”

  “If necessary, you could get a C6 unit to help you.”

  “You know that model of android has never struck me as being very intelligent.”

  “Maybe because it's just like the engineered Ikalians?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “In any case, a Class C ship has already left, to return to the Hatmnal system! How is it possible that you didn't know about it?”

  “I've been involved in solving a problem with Eldgh's chip recently.”

  “I told you! Get help from a C6!”

  “Relax, it’s just a stupid anomaly. It'll be fixed before they go back into suspended animation.”

  Live or Die

  Trilogy

  The Reawakening (Vol. II)

  A Novel by

  J.A. Hawkings

  Ebook protected by Digital Rights Management

  © 2015 All rights reserved by author

  First English Edition April 2015

  This novel is a work of fantasy. Names, characters, places, organizations and events are the result of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely random.

  This work is protected by Copyright laws. Any unauthorized duplication, even in part, is prohibited.

  The Reawakening

  1

  For a Taahrian, it wasn't unusual to utilize telepathic communication; it was more efficient and faster in certain situations. It was basically an exchange of electromagnetic waves between neural chips. This system was useful for a no-frills dialogue: suitable for simple, intuitive concepts, yet entirely inappropriate for discussing more speculative and complex topics.

  If a human being were to listen to a discourse between the Betelgeuse's First Officer and its Commander, Yijesh, he would only hear a few articulated phrases, seemingly unrelated to each other and interspersed with long pauses. But some Taahrians actually preferred a language totally dependent on words, despite having no trouble understanding one over the other, much as a bilingual human chooses to communicate in one specific language, yet doesn't find it difficult to understand or express himself in the other.

  “I am very pleased that our departure went off without a hitch,” the Commander stated.

  “By paying the utmost attention, we were able to circumvent any potential attacks,” the First Officer remarked.

  “I was afraid that some of the humans might've stowed away on board the ship.”

  “Even if millions of Terrestrials hate us, there are just as many who can't resist the lure of space travel. But our organizational skills have allowed us to avoid that kind of thing,” said Eldgh, lying shamelessly.

  “I don't know if, ethically, it was a wise move,” the Commander replied. “I'm talking about having abandoned Blue C so soon, without having finished the reconstruction... In any case, do you hear it? It's irresistible!”

  Eldgh didn't hear anything, but he knew full well to whatYijesh referred.

  “The Call of the Galaxy is a tantalizing sensation which is impossible to resist. Even knowing that it isn't a material thing doesn't stop me from feeling it in my veins.”

  “I can't think of anything better,” Yijesh agreed pensively. After a brief pause and a deep sigh, he continued: “The moment has arrived for everyone to take their places. The Engine Room advises that we're almost ready to make the jump.”

  “Very good. Then there's nothing left for us to do but remain here on the bridge.”

  Yijesh looked intently at him for a second, with his large slanted eyes. Then he went to take the command post.

  The First Officer believed it logical and predictable that a human would want to remain on Earth, but he thought the desire to explore a new world was even more irresistible.

  The Call of Space.

  A feeling that, as suggested by the ship's archives, one should experience a maximum of four times; and that, instead, he suddenly suspected he had lived through dozens, perhaps hundreds of times, for centuries or even millennia. But what disturbed him most wasn't the sort of déjà-vu he felt so much as the disillusionment.

  There was no call inside of him, absolutely nothing.

  He couldn't explain why, but it had to do with something that wasn't ever supposed to happen.

  A mistake.

  2

  They were a thousand light years from recovering. The time elapsed was insufficient and the beating they had suffered too great. And if logic suggested that time would help him get past it, his heart warned that he would never recover from that oozing torment.

  Sirio found himself having to bear with the loss of a loved one. Thoughts began to swirl in his mind, generating terrible doubts and crazy hypotheses about the fate of the woman who had suddenly disappeared like snow in the sun. A type of pain that often exceeded that of despair over the death of a loved one. Furthermore, the importance of the role he had played in this choice made his existence even more difficult. Should he condemn Namiko to an uncertain fate or let her slip into the darkness of death? Two distressing possibilities that, unfortunately for him and his beloved,
didn’t leave any room for a third.

  Having landed in Rome, Sirio proceeded to betray all of his good intentions: instead of rebuilding and restoring the eternal city to splendor, after more than three weeks, he ended up living like a recluse in the squalid and dusty basement of an old building which had survived the Taahrian attack. Given his frugal and isolated life, the money that he had with him would be sufficient for several months.

  During an episode of nocturnal delirium, in which nightmares and obsessive thoughts dominated his dreams, he had inadvertently put his hand on an old cell phone that didn't need a PIN. The device, which went perfectly well with the desolation of that house, was then inadvertently turned on, allowing him to receive a text message from Tylor, which was announced by a loud beep.

  You're not answering posts to your social network pages. Any mail I send you is being returned and your phone is always off. Is everything okay? I'm worried. Your friend, Tylor.

  Sirio had a distracted look.

  “Tomorrow, my friend. Tomorrow...” he mumbled, falling into a troubled sleep.

  The next morning, he reemerged from the basement like a refugee who had just crossed an ocean.

  Disheveled and with eyes half closed, he breathed the agreeable air, a reflection of a pleasant spring day.

  Along Viale Carlo Felice, in the San Giovanni district, restored buildings alternated with modern buildings under construction and small public gardens, which had replaced the scars of war, for which, however, the term appeared anything but appropriate: more than an armed struggle between two or more factions, it had been the absolute domination of one over the other, with no chance of reply.