Nascent Decay (The Goddess of Decay Book 1) (16 page)

“It’s the same color as the Chamber,” she said sourly.

“Yes, well, that’s to be ex-” Reskle started before Noura nudged him.

“You can make it look however you like,” Noura interjected as she reached over to disconnect the cable from Rhylie’s chest. “All you have to do is focus on it. You’ll get better with practice too.” Rhylie thought of her original body in a summer dress. Her arms and legs changed in an instant, and the hole in her chest vanished. Her old summer dress was fabricated quite faithfully. Better than the Chamber could have done it, she thought. She looked up at Noura and smiled.

“Now if I could just grow my hair back!” she said, reaching up with her hand to rub the fuzz that had begun to grow back since her first procedure. She could actually feel it with her fingers now. Having just the skeleton had been strange. Living in a world without physical stimulation had been more difficult than she would have thought. She had never realized how much she enjoyed having a sense of touch until it had been taken from her.

For the first time in a long time, Rhylie giggled. She had forgotten what that was like as well.

“That’s a cute outfit,” Noura said. “It really brightens the place up.”

“Just be careful, please. Rahve has done some significant damage…playing with fire…for lack of a better term,” Reskle said. “We still don’t know what your full potential is. In theory you could emulate some of the most dangerous substances in the galaxy. You could not only kill yourself, but many others as well.” Rhylie frowned.

“How does it work?” she asked, looking at her hand. Her nails were even cute. She imagined one had a smiley face on it, and it appeared instantly, grinning stupidly at her. She giggled again. It felt amazing to be able to laugh after all she had been through.

“Well…it’s actually quite phenomenal really,” Reskle said. “You can control your body’s structure on an atomic level, potentially fabricating anything you want. Some are better at it than others, and learn faster.”

Just like the Chamber
, she thought numbly, frowning. Before she could broach the subject, Isaar strode through the door. He was still dressed in all black, but the attire seemed more formal, and fashionable. He seemed to wear the color better than Mason had. She wondered what had happened to her crew. She was anxious to find out.

“Are you ready?” he asked Rhylie.

“Ready for what?” she responded.

“Ready to go home,” he said. “Your ship is waiting.”

*

The craft that awaited Rhylie and Isaar was a small one, a fast ship that consisted of little more than a cockpit sitting on a gravity well. Only two of its four seats were occupied, by Rhylie and Isaar. She had changed her outfit back to her military uniform. She thought that whoever they contacted first might be a little more comfortable once they saw her wearing it. They had several days alone before they could even risk establishing contact.

Rhylie asked Isaar everything she could think of, and he of her…but something evaded her. What had she forgotten? It was important, whatever it was, and it bugged her incessantly.

She had played around with her new body and abilities, being mindful of what she had seen others do with it. Whatever form she wanted her hands to take, she could. That part was easy enough. She could freeze them after some practice, and probably start a fire too if she wanted. A small fire in the tight confines of the cockpit would be catastrophic though.

“You are picking that stuff up pretty quickly,” Isaar said.

“It feels…natural. I don’t know why,” Rhylie responded, watching the surface of her skin change to a smooth, unblemished ivory. Her fingers became a featureless blob of iridescent white before coalescing back into her hand.

“I have heard when you lose one sense, it makes the others stronger. The same thing goes for losing an arm or a leg,” Isaar said. “I am sure if Reskle were here, he could tell us more.”

“That makes sense,” said Rhylie as she formed her fingers into long, slender blades. She clicked them together. “They’re paper thin, but harder than diamond,” she murmured, showing them off to Isaar. He frowned slightly.

“They make me uneasy,” he said uncomfortably.

“That’s ok,” she replied. “They make me uneasy too.” She smiled and her fingers snapped back to their original form. Her skin returned to a soft, olive tone. “So where are we?”

“Dead space,” said Isaar. “Nothing exists out here except dust and asteroids. Everything is frozen and dark.”

“I see. We had just begun exploring out here,” Rhylie said, looking out the cockpit window. At the speed they were traveling, there was nothing to see but emptiness.

“I know. That is what tipped off the Siirocians,” he said. She pursed her lips for a moment. “We are headed to the nearest known human outpost, although our information is dated. The Siirocians have begun attacking and wiping out human outposts one after the other, but they have yet to hit any large, colonized targets that we know of. They’re just taking out your early warning systems it seems.”

“Either way, they’re going to suspect something is not right when we show up,” she said.

“That is why it is just us two. I was not going to risk any more lives than I had to,” he said.

“I understand,” Rhylie said sighing. “You could have just sent me on alone.”

“I know I could have, but they might be more receptive and willing to believe what you have to say if they have a living, breathing alien standing beside you,” he said, half-grinning. “Besides, I wanted to make sure they treated you well.”

“Or they may just kill us both on sight,” she said darkly. “If they’ve been attacked recently, they’ll most likely be on high alert.” The thought of going home both frightened and exhilarated her. If she had a stomach, she was sure it would be full of butterflies. Still, she felt anxious and excited.
Expect the worst
, she thought,
and you’ll never be disappointed
.

“We will know soon,” Isaar said. “We will be there shortly, in fewer than 200 nanos.” Rhylie sighed, frustrated.

“I still don’t understand all of that stuff,” she said.

“I do not quite understand it myself,” he replied. “The veil just interprets it as best it can. Our understanding of the human language is limited. Mersi would be able to tell us more.”

“Doesn’t matter, I guess,” she said. “We’ll get there when we get there. And then it won’t matter anymore.”

“Hmmm,” Isaar said as he leaned forward to stare at the translucent console feed screen in front of him. “There is a small recon craft near here. It is a human ship, and they are unaware of our presence. Maybe it would be better if we contacted them first.”

“Maybe,” Rhylie said uneasily. “It’s probably an ARC-25.33, if it’s this far out. That means it’s armed and shielded.”

“Primitive weapons and shields,” he said “Nothing that can hurt us before they run out of firepower. I can disable their shields and weapons from here if I need to.”

“No,” she cautioned. “That’ll just freak them out and make them trigger happy.”

“I will trust your instincts on this,” Isaar said, inclining his head. “Should we contact them?” Rhylie thought for a moment.

“Sure, patch me through if you can,” she said. He reached up and touched a translucent screen. It dialed in automatically to the Arc-25.

“Hello? Identify yourselves,” a strange man’s voice came over the com channel.

“This is Private D Class Rhylie Ella Underhill of the Exploration Arm of the United Allied Forces,” she responded.

“Hold please,” the voice said. “Checking.”

“Of course,” said Rhylie. She waited a moment.

“Rhylie Ella Underhill, you are shown as MIA almost two years ago, is that correct?” the voice asked with disbelief.

“That is correct,” she responded.

“We’re going to need visual confirmation of that, Private,” the voice said. “Prepare to be boarded.”

“There’s…uh, not really room for that on this craft,” Rhylie said.

“I see. Then I will need you to come aboard our ship. Disarm yourselves if you’re carrying any weapons,” the voice said. He sounded like an asshole.

“I’ll do my best,” she quipped. She glanced at Isaar. “Let’s go,” she said.

“I have already set the trajectory,” he said. “We will be there in less than a nano.” Rhylie groaned and rolled her eyes.

The ship was an ARC-25, just as she’d thought. She directed Isaar to the entry port. The small craft synced its gravity well with the ARC’s and extended a narrow tube between the two ships.

“This craft was designed for landing bays and platforms,” Isaar said apologetically.

“It’s ok,” said Rhylie, gliding through the portal as the gravity well shut off. “I’ve been through worse.” Isaar grabbed her leg gently, and she turned to look at him.

“Rhylie…do not tell your people what you are capable of yet, until you know that they believe you and can accept it,” he said. She nodded her head in agreement.

“Isaar…thank you for everything,” she replied. “I really mean it.” He smiled back at her before following her through the tube.

Once aboard the ARC, they were greeted by two armed UAF soldiers, whose identification tags read Bartholomew Antonovich and Jessica Miller. They were both wearing standard recon-tech spectacles with a mouthpiece for communication.
Probably recording everything
, Rhylie thought. She hoped they didn’t turn the bio-sensors on. That caused her to suddenly realize that she hadn’t had her recon-specs with her when she had been awakened from cryostasis by the Siirocians. They hadn’t even bothered fabricating them.
Where they were now?
she wondered.
Or does it even matter?
Probably not.

Bart was older, and stocky with black hair and matching eyes with a crooked nose. Jessica was younger, but still older than Rhylie by a few years. She had cascading auburn hair and a light peppering of freckles across her nose and cheeks, with light green eyes.
I love your hair. I wish I had some of my own
, Vorcia’s voice whispered from somewhere in the back of Rhylie’s mind. She suppressed it, but the shaggy stubble on her own head prickled in response.

They both kept their distance from Rhylie and Isaar, staring at him in wide-eyed, open shock. Bart had an intense, almost crazy look to his eyes, and Jessica was paling beneath her freckles, as though she were looking at a ghost.

“I mean you no harm,” Isaar said, putting his hands up cautiously. His eyes grew wide and his brow furrowed. He looked at Rhylie with uncertainty. Jessica and Bart gave each other a quick glance, as if they were unsure which one was more unbelievable.

“I need to speak with the United Allied Council as soon as possible,” Rhylie said, trying to remain calm. She didn’t like the fact that both soldiers had their weapons trained on Isaar. She knew what those sub-rifles were capable of.

“Slow down,” said Jessica as she pulled a small, metallic device from her belt like the one Rhylie used to carry. “We just need to make sure that you’re telling us the truth. Let me see your hand.” Rhylie frowned.

“That’s…probably not going to work,” Rhylie said.

“Why not?” asked Bart. He looked at Rhylie strangely with his weird crazy-eyes. He had the remnants of a slight Russian accent.

“It just won’t,” she replied. “You’re going to have to take a retinal scan.”

“What is really going on here?” Bart asked cautiously as he stepped between Rhylie and Jessica. “Who are you, really?” Rhylie frowned again.

“I am Private D Class Rhylie Ella Underhill of the Exploration Arm of the United Allied Force,” she said as frustration broke through. “I’ve been a prisoner of a race of beings called the Siirocians. They’re the ones that have been attacking our outposts and taking them out. This is Isaar,” she blurted out impatiently as she motioned towards him. “He rescued me from her…from them.” Bart looked uncertainly over his shoulder to Jessica. She nodded her head at him, and he stepped out of the way. Jessica then stepped forward, holding up the slender device to Rhylie’s right eye.

“It’s her,” Jessica said slowly, her eyes widening as she stepped back. “Unbelievable.” Bart frowned darkly.

“Welcome back, Private Underhill,” he said with uncertainty. “You are somewhat of a celebrity now.”

“What do you mean?” Rhylie asked as she cocked her head curiously to the side.

“Everyone followed the trial,” Bart said. “After you disappeared. It was pretty big news.”

“What trial?” asked Rhylie. She didn’t like this at all. Why would there be a trial?

“The trial of your former crew,” Bart said. “Accused of raping and murdering you and disposing of your body.” Rhylie’s mouth opened in shock. She didn’t know what to say. At least they had lowered their guns, and were no longer pointing them at Isaar.

“But that wasn’t what happened…” she said, trailing off. Her face went numb.

“They were all acquitted eventually,” Jessica said softly. “But they were discharged and stripped of their benefits.”

“I told you they were innocent,” chided Bart. “But you and everyone else wanted them to pay for what you
thought
they
might
have done.”

Rhylie felt horrible, and in a way, guilty. It seemed that everywhere she went, entropy and decay followed in her wake. Sora’s words drifted to her once again.
Wounds that will not heal.

“We do not have time for this,” Isaar said, interrupting Bart. “We must warn-”

“We have time for this,” Bart said, cutting him off. “You just hold tight there, buddy.” Isaar regarded him with an intense questioning look of his own.

“What we don’t have time for is you two boys to hold a dick waving contest,” Rhylie said, snapping out of her shock. She could worry about Mason and Ian and Sergeant Bryson later. She was quickly growing tired of Bart. “Jessica, we really do need to speak with the Council. There is a war coming, and we have to warn everyone.”

“We do not have much time before the first major assault is rolled out,” said Isaar. “The future of the human race depends on a rapid response and widespread preparations. You may even need to evacuate your home system, in a worst case scenario.”