Page 13
T he glyphs on the cell wall vibrated with meaning as Ravik traced them with a long blue finger.
Not actual movement—the crude charcoal markings weren’t capable of that—but something deeper my markings detected, a subtle frequency like standing near a malfunctioning power relay.
The sensation traveled from my forearms up to my shoulders, creating a network of warmth beneath my skin.
I leaned closer, shifting on the cold metal floor plates. My knees protested from sitting cross-legged for so long on the unyielding surface, but the discomfort faded against the importance of what Ravik was sharing.
“These symbols represent the Nexus,” Ravik said, his deep voice pitched just below the threshold the drone patrolling outside our cell could detect.
The acoustics of the small space made his words settle in my chest, almost physical.
“The central node of the planetary network Hammond seeks to control.”
I studied the interlocking patterns, geometric shapes that shouldn’t have made sense to me but somehow did.
Each line, each curve seemed to trigger tiny responses within the silver networks beneath my skin, like circuitry recognizing compatible code.
My markings reacted beneath my skin, a network of silver lines that had grown more intricate during our captivity, branching in patterns that mirrored aspects of the symbols before me.
They recognized something my conscious mind couldn’t yet grasp, responding with a steady warmth that traveled up my arms. The dim emergency lighting in our cell cast everything in a bluish glow, highlighting the contours of Ravik’s blue face as he concentrated on the symbols.
His copper-colored braids hung forward, partially obscuring his expression, but I could see the intensity in his golden eyes. “That’s what Hammond keeps mentioning in his logs—the Nexus. I thought it was just another power source he wanted to drill into.”
The recycled air in our cell carried a metallic flavor, mixed with the earthy scent of Ravik’s skin—not unpleasant, just different from human odors. I’d become attuned to it over our weeks of captivity, could distinguish the subtle changes that indicated his mood or physical state.
Ravik’s golden eyes narrowed, pupils contracting to slits in the dim light.
The membrane of his inner eyelid briefly flashed across his vision, a Nyxari physiological response I’d noticed occurred when he was processing complex information.
“It is far more. The Nexus contains the original programming that governs Arenix’s environmental systems—weather patterns, seismic stability, even atmospheric composition. ”
His tail shifted against the floor, the blue-scaled appendage revealing his agitation in a way his carefully controlled expression did not. “During the Great Division, both factions sought to control it to dominate the other.”
“And that’s what destroyed your civilization,” I said, pieces connecting with the precision of a well-designed circuit completing its connection. I’d been an engineer on The Seraphyne before the crash—before everything changed—and my mind still worked in diagrams and systems.
He nodded grimly. “The Shadow Canyon clan emerged from survivors who recognized the danger. For generations, we have guarded these specific ruins, keeping knowledge of the Nexus contained.”
The muscles in his jaw tightened, creating subtle shifts in his blue skin that caught the low light. A faint golden hint emanated from the lifelines along his neck—not bright enough to be seen from outside our cell, but visible up close where I sat.
I ran my fingers along my forearm where my silver markings had grown more intricate during our imprisonment.
The skin there felt warmer than the surrounding areas, slightly raised like circuitry embedded just beneath the surface.
The patterns had spread, becoming more complex in response to proximity to Ravik and the ancient technology that permeated Hammond’s base.
“And these markings—they’re some kind of interface for the system.”
“They are...” he paused, searching for a word less harsh than his usual description, “biological anomalies.”
The words lacked the disgust that had colored his voice during our first encounters.
His eyes followed the path of my fingers along my arm, his expression unreadable.
“But yes. The ancient ones created biological keys—interfaces that allowed control of planetary systems. Your markings echo those keys.”
A distant rumble vibrated through the floor plates—Hammond’s drilling operation working through the night cycle.
The constant tremors had become background noise over the weeks, but each one twisted something in my gut, knowing what damage they were doing to ancient systems never meant to be exploited this way.
“That’s why Hammond keeps experimenting, testing the crystal shard on you,” I said, a chill running through me despite the stifling warmth of our small cell.
My stomach knotted as I remembered Claire’s screams echoing through the old base during Hammond’s last “session” with her before Rivera and her Nyxari partner rescued her. The memory made my skin tingle with sympathetic pain.
“He’s trying to recreate the key.”
“And he progresses dangerously close to success.”
Ravik scrubbed out the glyphs with his palm, the charcoal dust clinging to his blue skin.
The muscles in his arms flexed as he moved, still showing signs of the damage Hammond’s experiments had caused, but healing faster than I’d expected.
“The shard he possesses is a fragment of an original key crystal. With your friend’s amplified markings and the knowledge he extracts from my lifelines?—”
“He could access the Nexus.” The magnitude of the threat crashed over me, my engineering mind calculating cascading failure scenarios. Planet-wide systems failing, weather patterns disrupted, seismic activity unleashed.
“Not just access it—control it.”
“Or destroy it, and this planet with it.”
Ravik’s voice held the gravity of generations of protectors. The golden lifelines visible along his neck seemed alive with his heightened emotion. “My clan has defended against this specific threat for centuries.”
A small vent in the upper corner of our cell cycled on, bringing in a fresh draft of air that carried the mineral scent of the deeper ruins. I shivered slightly as the cooler air touched my skin, raising goosebumps along my arms where the silver markings traced complex patterns.
I paced our small cell, three steps each way, mind working through possibilities. The floor grating transmitted the distant hum of Hammond’s drilling operation. Each step sent small vibrations up through my feet, the ancient structure beneath us protesting the violation.
“We need to stop him,” I said, my eyes finding the weakened section of wall plating we’d been secretly working on during our weeks of captivity. “And we need to get out of here to do it.”
Ravik followed my gaze, giving a nearly imperceptible nod.
His hand moved to the hidden cache where we’d stored the crude tools we’d fashioned from broken equipment during our work details—a twisted piece of metal, a sharpened fragment of crystalline material that could cut through the deteriorating sections of the old base.
“The next tremor sequence could provide the cover we need,” he said, his voice barely audible.
He inclined his head toward the wall, where a hairline crack had been spreading for days, coinciding with Hammond’s increasingly aggressive drilling patterns.
“The structural integrity is weakening precisely where we need it to.”
I knelt beside the pallet that concealed our work, running my fingers along the edge of the floor plate we’d loosened. “The security systems are taxed during the drilling cycles. Fewer functional sensors, guards distracted by equipment malfunctions.”
Ravik moved to kneel beside me, his larger frame radiating warmth in our chilled cell. “The ventilation maintenance shafts beyond this section haven’t been properly secured. They lead toward the old emergency exit tunnels my clan mapped generations ago.”
His proximity sent a cascade of sensations through my markings—not the painful burning from our early days together, but a pleasant resonance, like components designed to work in harmony. I wondered if his lifelines felt a similar response.
“If we time it with the next major drilling phase,” I whispered, leaning closer so our shoulders almost touched, “we might make it past the perimeter before they realize we’re gone.”
Ravik nodded, his golden eyes reflecting the dim emergency lighting. “We have one advantage Hammond does not understand—my clan has monitored these ruins for generations. I know paths and weak points he has not discovered.”
He drew another symbol on the floor between us—different from the earlier ones. The charcoal dust contrasted against his blue fingertip. “This is the Shadow Canyon trail marker. If we become separated, follow these signs. They will lead you to safety.”
The symbol looked like a stylized mountain range with a lightning bolt through its center—simple enough to recognize quickly, yet distinctive. I committed it to memory, tracing it mentally against the pattern of my markings.
“How far to the Eastern Settlement from here?” I asked, calculating our odds. We’d need water, would face environmental hazards, predators.
“Five days, perhaps six, accounting for Hammond’s search parties and natural barriers.” His tail moved in a thoughtful pattern against the floor. “There is a Shadow Canyon outpost three days east that could provide shelter and supplies.”
We spent the next hour refining the plan, speaking in whispers, heads bent close together. The soft sounds of our breathing mingled in the small space between us. Occasionally, when our ideas aligned perfectly, I felt a pleasant warmth, as if recognizing the synchronicity of our thoughts.
We went over the guard rotations, the drilling schedule, the layout of the ventilation system based on our observations during work details.
Each detail needed to be perfect; we would only get one chance.
Ravik’s memory for spatial relationships impressed me—he could recall the exact positioning of every guard station, camera, and drone patrol we’d encountered during our forced labor.
For moments at a time, I would forget we were captives—forget he wasn’t human—as our minds worked together with surprising effectiveness. There was something intensely satisfying about planning with someone whose intellect matched your own, whose strengths complemented your weaknesses.
The distant sound of the guard patrol returning brought our planning session to an end.
The rhythmic thud of boots on metal grating grew louder, accompanied by the electronic whine of the security drones that always accompanied them.
Ravik’s ears—slightly pointed at the tips and more mobile than human ones—twitched at the sound before I could even hear it.
As Ravik erased the last of our markings from the floor, his tail briefly touched my ankle—the contact brief but deliberate, an acknowledgment of our partnership.
The smooth scales were warm against my skin, sending a small shiver up my leg.
Whatever strange connection had formed between us through proximity and shared danger, it made us stronger together.
We moved to our respective sleeping pallets, assuming the positions of disinterested prisoners just as the guards passed.
As I lay facing the wall, I could feel Ravik’s presence across the small cell—the subtle heat he generated, the measured rhythm of his breathing, the occasional soft sound of his tail moving against the floor.
Tomorrow, we would make our move.
I only hoped the bond forming between me and him would be enough to stop Hammond before he unleashed something that could destroy us all.