Nathan Hystad - The Survivors - Books 1-3

Suma stepped forward, pulling a small tablet from a pocket on the back of her uniform. “There is an energy reading still. Sometimes these civilizations ensured they wouldn’t get stuck, so they had backup systems in place.”

Slate looked at her dubiously. “They don’t consider the Shandra worthy of backup power?”

Suma just did her lower arm shrug again and continued. “I don’t begin to suggest I understand their reasoning. The lift appears to be controlled by these foot pedals.” She pointed with her top left hand to a spot where two metal squares were etched with different symbols on each.

We were all standing on the lift, looking closely at the floor, when Suma crawled over and pressed one of them. We didn’t have time to react as we started to move very quickly. I fell, pressure keeping me down on my knees as we lifted higher and higher. “Stop it,” Slate croaked.

Suma hit the same lever again, and we came to a stop at the next level. I stood up, this time getting a full view of the city. We were even higher, twice as high as we were, and even in the darkness, I could make out an ocean of lava in the deep distance. To the other side, mountains, as black as midnight, loomed like a bad omen. No wonder these people had left their home.

“I’m going to guess the other lever takes us down?” I hadn’t finished the question when Suma hit the lever, and we were quickly descending. This time, knowing it was happening, we were able to stay on our feet. I grasped the railing on the side of the lift, as did the other two, and I wondered if a harness system would have been safer.

As we lowered, I kept my eyes out for a structure we’d seen on the blueprint. There it was, a few standard blocks away, maybe half a mile in total. I only hoped we’d find a way to turn the power source on once we got there. I pointed toward it, and Slate nodded as the lift slowed and stopped at ground level.

We exited the lift, my legs and stomach both glad to be off the thing. The ground was made of a concrete-like substance, and considering how long it had sat at rest, there were very few breaks in it. Every twenty or so feet, I could see signs of something trying to come up through it. Nature always took over, unless you were on an abandoned alien planet. Maybe the lava and lightning were what constituted nature on this world. I didn’t intend to be here long enough to find out.

Slate moved with efficiency, Suma and I following along, me with my gun at ready, though I could see no sign of any threats. It never hurt to be prepared.

Suma began to slow, and I slowed alongside her. “Are you going to be okay?”

Her snout twitched under the clear face-plate of the filter mask. She squeaked a reply. “I’ll be fine. We don’t move this much at home.” I kept with her slower pace, Slate eventually noticing we weren’t right behind him. He slowed as well but kept fifty yards ahead.

There wasn’t much of interest down on this level: mostly just the bases of the skyscrapers, and some maintenance sheds. The living appeared to all happen above ground on this planet, or at least in this city. It wasn’t long before we made it to our target. The building, a squat, square brick-walled complex, looked out of place among the thin, cloud-high structures around it.

I ran a gloved hand along the smooth stone walls as we looked for a door. It all worked together: the traveling stones, the gemstones in the clear cylinder up top, and now this. My mind flashed to the stones we’d worn to stay on Earth while everyone else was lashed into the ships. It all worked together on a scale as large as our universe. One day, I suspected we’d understand it all. Today, I just wanted to find a door, get some power, and leave.

“Over here,” Slate said from around the corner. It was still quiet down on the ground, but the wind was blowing small debris around. Pebbles and small metal sheets clattered down the streets, reminding me the planet wasn’t so much different from our own.

Suma and I rounded the side of the building. Slate was there, pulling on the door. It wouldn’t move. I grabbed hold of what had to be the handle, and we both tugged on it, even putting our legs on the wall for leverage. Nothing.

“Keep looking for another way in?” I asked, but Slate was shaking his head.

“I’m growing tired of this place.” He lightly shoved me back and unslung his pulse rifle, red beam blowing a hole in the rocks. He did this a few times, until the opening was large enough to get through.

Suma had jumped and hid behind me. “You’re safe, Suma.”

She shook until Slate put the gun away. “What is that?” she asked.

“It’s a gun; a weapon.”

She tested the word, a strange sound through her small snout. “Weapon.”

“You don’t have guns where you come from?” I asked, curious that a race might be non-violent. No wonder she hadn’t seemed too afraid of our guns when we’d encountered her. She was just afraid of seeing pasty near-hairless aliens.

“We don’t have guns.” She didn’t elaborate.

“Boss, can we do this later?” Slate was getting into Rambo mode, and I was good with that. I closed my eyes for a split second, seeing Slate standing over Mae’s bleeding body. Target down. I shook it off and patted Slate on the shoulder.

“We can do this later. Let’s get some power.”

T he inside of the power plant, for lack of a better term, was black. Our LEDs lit the way as we entered, guns raised against the off chance we were about to be ambushed. We stood at rest, listening for any sounds. All we heard was the wind dancing around outside the hole in the wall.

Slate motioned us forward, and Suma stayed behind me. I couldn’t tell if she was more afraid of the unknown or of Slate. Either way, I would try to keep her feeling safe. We were in a small room with lockers along the wall and a table in the middle of the room. I searched through the cubbies, finding uniforms and heavy boots. The material was thick on everything, but clearly made for something other than a human. I held one of the one-piece uniforms up, and imagined thin legs and a tail, with arms down to their knees. I guessed I’d never know for sure.

In the middle of the room, Slate searched under the table, and found an assortment of tools. Some looked much like ones you’d find in any house’s garage, and others were far more complex. “I hope we don’t need to use one of these to turn the power on.” Slate held up a device with ten prongs sticking out of it, and what looked like thousand-year-old grease piled on each tip.

Suma walked over to him, sorting the tools on the table, not saying anything. I smiled and headed for a doorway that would lead us further inside.

“Are you ready?” I asked, more for the sake of saying it than needing to.

Slate was always ready. He nodded, raising his gun as I turned the handle, feeling the years of neglect fight me as I pressed the lever. It eventually moved, and I pulled, opening us up into the next room. It was the right door, which was good, because it was the only door.

“This is it,” Slate whispered as we walked inside the large open bay room. Machinery sat in clumps along the edges of the room, but the center was what drew our eyes. A massive clear crystal the size of a dump truck sat glimmering as our lights reflected off it. The thousands of edges on it each angled the light out in a beautiful pattern around the room’s wall and ceiling. “Isn’t that something.”

It was. Where the crystals in the “boiler room” we’d seen up top had been glowing a tiny bit, this one was dead. It was just a crystal down here. The largest single crystal I’d ever seen, but it was here.