The Company Man (7) Part 2

Nic felt like he was floating. In a dream-like state, he was surrounded by a white light that slowly faded, and the land in front of him came into focus. He was standing in the middle of a barren field of earth that spread out in front of him for hundreds of metres in every direction. There were Privates all around him ploughing the field, and they were sweating under the heat of the midday sun. Nic wiped his arm across his brow and the moisture of a day’s labour wet his sleeve. He crouched, scooped up a handful of coarse earth, and watched as it slowly slipped through his fingers and vanished into thin air. 

           The brown earth, the blue sky, and the yellow sun in his vision slowly melted in front of his eyes and the colours merged together in swirling psychedelic patterns. The colours blurred together and after a few seconds a sea of red sand emerged from the colour palette. 

          He saw a lone rocky outcrop jutting out of the sand about twenty metres in front of him. Odessa was sitting on the grey stones with her back to him, and Nic could see that she was leaning forward, cradling her face, and gently rocking to and fro. Beyond her, Nic could see the skyline of a great city far in the distance. Skyscrapers stretched along the horizon, and the three red suns of Odessa’s home planet lurked above. They slowly descended and kissed the glistening skyline.

          Nic approached the rock. As he reached Odessa, he gently placed his hand on her shoulder and she turned. Her long red hair whipped through the air to reveal that her eyes appeared almost empty. The vibrant shades of orange and gold they had once held had diminished into insignificant specks. Her sunken eyes were bleeding, blood stained her lower eyelids, and claret teardrops streamed down her gaunt face. 

          ‘Finally,’ she croaked. Her voice was a hoarse whisper.

          ‘What is this place?’ He asked. 

          ‘The subconscious realm is…’ she paused, ‘…interesting. If you have the means to use it.’

          She reached a hand toward Nic’s face, and she strained her eyes open as wide as she could. 

          Nic leant forward, but instead of bumping into her, a void opened in front of him. He fell forward. He fell toward the tiny orange specks that he had seen in the pit of Odessa’s pupils. They grew. Slowly at first, into swirling concentric circles, and then faster and faster as he approached, until he could almost feel the scorching flames on his face. As he was consumed by the orange and yellow, the red and golden rings of the fire, he woke in a city, familiar but not. 

          He was surrounded by throngs of people looking up at the sky. A great vessel hovered to a slow stop above them. The base of its navy blue hull stretched for hundreds of metres in every direction.

          They were standing in a massive central square five hundred metres across. At the back of the square stood a giant palace. Its ornate facade was draped in flags of orange and gold. 

          The people chattered together in wonder at the sight.

          ‘The Pioneers have returned!’ They cheered.

           ‘It’s been a century since they went home!’ Said another, gobsmacked.

          ‘Oh, how wonderful! Our Terran cousins!’ Enthused a genteel old lady beside him, ‘I was but a child when they left.’

          From the centre of the vessel’s underside, a giant hologram was beamed in front of the palace to audible gasps from the crowd. The image was so clear and defined that it could have been real, had it not been for the fact it was a hundred feet high. 

          The Grand Visigoth looked fresh-faced and youthful. His cheeks had a rosiness that was absent in Nic’s own memories. It was unmistakably him, though. The hook of his nose and the vibrancy of his eyes, those familiar shades of green and blue, left Nic in no doubt. 

          There was something in his face that bothered Nic, though. Something was not quite right, and it bothered him that he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. 

          The Grand Visigoth was standing tall and proud, his chest thrust forward, his authority unquestionable.

          ‘People of Alphania!’ He bellowed and held out both his hands. 

          The crowds waited in awe.

          ‘A thousand years ago,’ he began in a friendly tone, ‘a group of scientists known as ‘the Pioneers’…’ 

          The crowd roared at the mention of the name. 

          The Grand Visigoth motioned for calm and continued.

          ‘These Pioneers came here on a mission of peace. They bestowed gifts of technology and knowledge, and your primitive society thrived and grew!’

          The crowds cheered again.

          ‘In just one millennium, your world achieved what took us on Terra five hundred!’

          They roared in delight.

          ‘While, in the face of such a breakthrough, our great Order, the Order of the Search, was mocked and pilloried.’

           The cheering became muted as the people looked at each other in confusion.

          ‘Outdated, they called us. Irrelevant.’ His tone had become sombre. 

          ‘Your Pioneers,’ his tone changed, and he spat the name, ‘had forsaken our great quest - The quest to find the creators of all life in the galaxy. Instead they committed our greatest sin…’

          The people, confused, began to panic, and worried murmurs swept through the crowds.

          ‘…For they had decided to become Gods themselves. When they returned to us a century ago with news of their achievements. We knew we must put an end to their heresy.’ 

          Outright panic had taken over the crowds as people began hurrying away and leaving the square.

          ‘Now, our great war has ended,’ he raised his hands, ‘your Pioneers and their supporters have been wiped from the face of our planet, and our noble Order has emerged victorious.’ He clenched his fists and cheered. ‘Our great struggle has finally been rewarded…’

          Our struggle has been rewarded… 

          Nic had heard it before. He froze as the memory resurfaced. The day at the podium. 

          The General? He thought, and he scoured his memory for the General’s image, his face. But he couldn’t. It was always clouded or blurry or something was in the way. He focused and concentrated. 

          The day at the podium. 

           He focused his mind, not on the Grand Visigoth, but on the General, and slowly it came into focus. The snarling grin, the hooked nose, and the eyes, a thousand shades of green and blue.

          That’s not the General!

          The revelation hit him with such force that he reeled inside his vision. That’s the Grand Visigoth standing behind a projection! He couldn’t understand it. He had no idea how it was possible, but it was unmistakable.

          The shield has been operating for a century! Odessa’s words on the hill came back to haunt him.

          Chaos had broken out among the crowd, and people were running in every direction now.

          Nic looked up at the hologram, which was still in full flow.

           ‘…For a thousand years, you,’ he pointed an accusing finger towards the palace and crowds, ‘have leeched our planets resources to develop into the gleaming monstrosity you have become. No More!’ He hissed, ‘our planet suffered while you thrived. Our people died while you lived. Their Project Alpha.’ He spat it with pure hatred. ‘This place you call home. This stain on the galaxy must be cleansed from the very fabric of space. We must end this ridiculous charade you call existence.’

          He brought his hands down to his sides in a chopping motion, and a great red rift streaked across the sky. It slowly separated to reveal the emptiness of space. An armada of giant battleships emerged and descended towards the planet.

          ‘Now prostrate yourselves before me and beg forgiveness,’ he ended with a flourish, ‘for this day…,’ he paused, ‘is the day you die!’

           The hologram vanished, and a single blue bolt of energy screeched from the belly of the ship and exploded into the palace. Nic watched as the flames engulfed the crowd and advanced towards him, and he could almost feel the heat, as everyone around him turned to smouldering ash.

 

Nic came to on the rock and found Odessa lying face down beside him. He crouched beside her and turned her over. 

          Her skin was ghostly, yet her eyes were jet-black and shining like obsidian. She lifted a feeble searching hand towards Nic. She was blind. 

          Nic took her hand in his and touched it to his face.

          ‘Do you see?’ She whispered. 

          ‘What does it all mean?’ Nic held his head in his hands. 

          ‘It’s time to wake up, Nic,’ her voice was barely audible, and as her eyes closed, she muttered, ‘I’ve opened your eyes, Lieutenant. Now I need you to come and open mine.’

 

Nic jolted up in his chair to the sight of the Doctor. He was standing directly in front of Nic and slapping his face. He had removed the devices from Nic’s eyes, and Nic blinked several times as he gathered himself. He had never before thought that having the ability to blink was something for which he could feel such joy.

          ‘Excellent,’ the Doctor said, his voice brittle, ‘I thought we’d lost you there. You were out for a good ten minutes.’

           Nic’s head felt heavy, but he could feel a sense of liberation in his mind. 

           ‘Let me out of this blasted chair,’ he yelled. Adrenalin was pumping through his veins now, and he wriggled and squirmed, but nothing had changed. He still couldn’t move.

          The Doctor laughed and moved towards the tray. He lifted a six-inch serrated blade and held it under the lights.

          ‘I guess we’ll have to try some more traditional methods.’ He said, and a broad grin stretched across his face.

           He pressed the blade into Nic’s left cheek and sliced slowly downwards. Nic could feel the blood running down his face as the Doctor held the blade in place and looked him in the eyes.

          Suddenly, the door swung open and cracked loudly into the wall.

          The Doctor jumped at the sound dropped the blade. It clattered off the chair and hit the floor.

          It took Nic a moment to focus on the image in the doorway, and as the shadowy figure stepped forward, Nic could have almost cried. Bagon’s rugged face and beaming grin came into view, his assault blaster poised and ready.

          ‘ello Doc’, it’s a pleasure to see you again!’ His unmistakable baritone echoed around the room. 

          ‘What’s the meaning of this!’ The Doctor demanded.

          ‘I’d love to stay and chat, Doc,’ he chimed, ‘but we got ourselves a rebellion to foment!’

          Nic watched as the Doctor’s face turned from a sadistic grin to utter bewilderment, before the orange bolt of energy smashed into his chest and thrust him backwards. Nic was almost reduced to tears of joys at the bone-crunching thud, as the Doctor hit the wall behind him.