Alien Barbarian’s Little Human

15. Magog

CHAPTER 15

MAGOG

T he Vakutan have a holiday called the First Breath. It does not fall on a particular stardate, but rather occurs anytime one of their…our…offspring draws their first breath.

Usually this event happens to a newborn infant. Not so in my case. I am aware, from the moment I first pierce the veil of conscious thought, that I am a genetically engineered amalgamate clone made from the greatest Vakutan heroes in history. The majority of my makeup comes from one donor known by the unlikely name of Zuvok the Terror.

The cryo pod opens, and I take my first breath. I taste ash, and decay, and the permeating scent of my User. I must find my User and get her instructions.

When she touched the control panel, it recorded all of her biometrics. I cannot access the Holonet for some reason, so I can’t verify her identity. I only know that she is a human in her early adulthood, and that she is very, very afraid.

Her fear touches something inside of me. It’s the same fear I smelled on Micah…wait, who is Micah? Why do I have memories of a life led, when I know that I have just been ‘born?’

It must be a side effect of my cybernetic brain. Or a genetic memory. I have no time to delve into this mystery at the moment. I must find my User. I suspect she is in danger.

My surroundings are peculiar, and in a state of ruin. I scan the room with my cybernetic eye, gathering data and extrapolating. A pharmacy, but half destroyed by fire and violent conflict. I follow the User’s scent, until it leads me to an opening in the rubble I cannot hope to fit through.

I switch to N Ray vision, cutting the rubble away layer by layer using quantum particles. I can now see through the solid matter, past the wrecked wall and the Alpha class hovertank wedged in the storefront.

My User cowers on the ground before a group of Ataxian soldiers. One of them has his weapon trained on her. But there seems to be some conflict among their number.

“Hurch, you misbegotten son of a lame Sting tail and a desperate Fratvoyan,” one of the Grlogath says, holding the back of his head with one hand. “Why did you smack me? I think you cracked my skull.”

“I told you, we’re here to kill the enemy. Rapine turns my stomach. What are we, Reapers? Alliance scum? We are Children of the Flame and we conduct ourselves with honor.”

“Look around you, Hurch. Look at this place!” The Grolgath is feral, half wild as he gestures around. “Do you think honor has any meaning? Besides, it’s not rapine if it’s a human woman. They’re not much more than primates, from what I understand.”

“Yea, Hurch,” snaps another of their number. “We’ve been trapped on this planet for weeks. We’ve got certain needs.”

Hurch cocks his rifle.

“I’ll just blow her fucking head off and end this disgusting conversation--”

I can’t wait any longer. The rubble would take too long to clear, and I might hurt the User.

I scan the nearby wall, and find I can penetrate it with minor effort and minimal damage to myself. The bricks and masonry fly outward, spattering the street and catching the Grolgath with the injured skull right in his injured scalp.

“Vakutan!” Bellows Hurch. He turns his weapon on me, which is preferable to the User. The nanomachines embedded in my scaless activate, forming a metallic sheen over my body right before he pulls the trigger.

The projectiles reflect off my armored body. I could allow him to deplete his ammunition by just standing here. However, a refracted shot might strike the User. I must act more decisively.

I run along the base of the building, drawing their fire away from the User. Once I’m halfway across the rubble strewn street, I come to a halt and pick up a piece of charred rebar.

The weight and shape are perfect for a javelin type weapon. I heft it up to my shoulder as the Grolgath continue to fire. Hunger and desperation has robbed them of their aim, and most of the shots miss me in any event. Those that do strike home encounter my nano armor, leaving my flesh beneath unscathed.

I hurl the rebar spear. It enters the eye socket of the lead Grolgath and keeps right on going. The now red spear emerges from the back of his head and then impales the chest of Hurch. He goes down to one knee, grabbing the makeshift spear and bellowing in agony.

Two more pieces of rebar become deadly flying projectiles. One Grolgath falls dead. The other is pinned to the wall by the metal rod thrust through his throat. His legs kick, and his blood hands pry ineffectually at the weapon impaling his body. Despite the vigor of his efforts, my sensors tell me he will be dead in a moment.

That leaves only one enemy, an Odex covered with still-healing burns on most of his body. Odex can be very dangerous up close. The solution is to defeat him without fighting. If he’s recently been burned, perhaps fire carries a psychological dread for him?

A brief burst of tachyon radiation from my cybernetic eye lights a tattered Alliance banner aflame. I pick it up by the corroded flagpole and twirl it menacingly while approaching the Odex.

My bluff works. His eyes widen at the sight of the flame, and then he scampers up the side of a building like a monkey. Only when his screams of terror die down do I drop the flaming brand onto the blasted concrete.

I don’t detect any more threats in our immediate vicinity. The nanites retract back deeper into my dermal layers and I turn my attention to the User.

Only to find she’s gone. Annoyance flares inside of me. Why did she run? I eliminated the threat.

The most logical explanation for her flight is that she considers me to be a threat as well. That should not be possible. She should have read the entire manual before activation of the cryo pod.

Unless, perhaps, my awakening was an accident? It would explain why my User didn’t remain during my resuscitation process.

I need to find her and explain that I am no threat to her. I take some time to analyze my surroundings. According to my onboard logs, I was shipped to the planet of Horus IV and put into storage some six months ago.

Since that time, there has clearly been an invasion by Ataxian forces. Judging from the condition of this city, the attack did not go well for either side. The Ataxians would want to maintain the infrastructure for their own use. They are also not known for such scorched earth tactics.

Perhaps the fighting grew so fierce that the city suffered as a result. Or maybe, the Alliance forces, seeing they were going to lose the city, destroyed it themselves. In any event, it has created a desperate, dangerous environment where civilization once thrived.

I try to access the memories of the ones called Gog and Varona, but that only confuses me further. Neither of them are Vakutan. Why would I have the memories of alien men? What’s more, they don’t seem to be stored on my internal hard drive.

My neurological net was programmed with many things. Language, military tactics, basic medical knowledge, and many other useful skills. I was also given the relative experience and aptitudes of a Vakutan raised to adulthood, meaning I know how to take care of my bodily functions among other matters.

However, none of that included the implantation of other memories, other personas. It makes no logical sense for them to have done so, but that leaves me with no explanation.

I have been ‘taught’ to have a great reverence for the Precursors. Perhaps this is their doing? I have no other explanations.

The memories are distracting me. I push them aside for now, focusing instead on finding my User. Her odds of survival drop by the moment. She must have been resourceful indeed to have made it so long on her own.

I stop to strip the Ataxians of their weapons and equipment. I don’t bother with their armor. It’s weaker than my nanites, and anyway I have little need for clothing. I have a concept of modesty, but I also have a built in dislike of Ataxians. I don’t want to wear their colors.

The woman’s trail is still fresh. It’s easy to follow her scent, because it stands out amongst the other aromas. It seems almost as if it’s familiar, even if I’ve never scented it before.

Her trail leads me through a veritable maze of toppled buildings and wrecked machinery. Several times she passes through a stream of brackish, industrial wastewater. An attempt to throw me off her scent? Perhaps she is not as panicked as she seems. I have come to respect my User even though I have yet to actually meet her.

At last, I find her scrambling up the steep side of a pile of debris. I swallow the dryness from my throat, and then speak my first words.

“Please, halt. I am here to assist.”

She looks over her shoulder, and her footing slips. The User shrieks as she plunges toward the ground. I swiftly calculate her trajectory, then leap into the air. Reflecting off the pile three separate times, I position myself beneath her so she falls safely into my arms instead of a jagged pile of shrapnel.

Her hair falls over her face as she settles in my arms. I feel her body stiff as a metal rod, tense and fearful.

“Please remain calm. I mean you no harm. I am Vakutan Gene Splice Project 6669, designation Magog.”

“Gog?”

Her puzzled reply heralds the lifting of her pale hand. Trembling, she pulls the hair away from her face. My mouth falls open, for this is the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. Granted, I have not seen many, but I suspect this fact will remain true in perpetuity.

I focus on her eyes, as blue as an autumn sky on her native Earth. Within her azure gaze, I find mysteries that steal my breath away. It is as if two concurrent rivers suddenly overflow their banks and become one, true, powerful cascade. I feel something of myself given to her, but there is no sense of loss. Instead, I know I have gained something more precious than words.

A confusing flood of memories inundates my mind. Those eyes, I’ve seen them twice before. When I was the Drokan known as Gog, and the Ishani known as Varona. Twice I have found my jalshagar.

And twice she has been untimely ripped from my grasp. No more. Never again.

“Micah,” I gasp. “Chloe, it is I! I told you I would find you, because our love will never fade. Not even when the stars lose their shine.”

“Um,” she says, licking her lips as she pants in my arms. “Actually, my name is Nerita.”

“Nerita, a lovely name but nowhere near as lovely as your immortal soul.”

We fall silent, staring at each other for long moments. I detect a glimmer of recognition in her gaze.

“Have we met before?” she asks in a breathy whisper.

I don’t know how to respond. The answer is both yes and no. But then, something passes between us. Unspoken, mutual accord of the heart and soul. When I move in, she is ready to accept my kiss.

All the world, all the memories melt away, leaving only this perfect moment. I’ve found my love at last, and that is all that matters.