Light Speed Arkadie, L. (positive books to read .txt) 📖

the edges of the sharp ones, slicing hisflesh open. I expect blood to pour out of the wound but it healsbefore that can happen.

“What the hell are these?” he wonders.

He’s sliding a finger down metal balls.

“Those are trikes,” Na’ta says, “TheOlligark are all bone. No skin. No Flesh. They’re like pure steel.Your blades won’t be able to penetrate them but all of thatwill.”

“So we throw balls at them, and thenwhat?”

“Correction,” Na’ta lifts her eyebrows asshe drops the same kind of canvas bag off her back and onto thegrass. “It takes at least five balls and then, Pow! - theyexplode.”

“Humph,” Chex grunts flippantly. “I won’tneed these.”

“Oh yes you will,” she insists.

“And what about these?” he continues,ignoring her. He’s touching objects shaped like various leaves.

Na’ta grins. “Those are gutters,” shereplies happily. Apparently she has a certain amount of affectionfor the weapons. “You’ll never beat the Olligark in hand-to-handcombat, but these…” her grin deepens, “….they can.”

He frowns studiously at them. “How?”

“How good is your aim?”

“Flawless.”

“Good. When the time comes, just let one goand watch it work,” she sings.

They’re sort of getting along which I verymuch prefer to the squabbling. I try to push the memories of what Ijust experienced out of my mind as I watch them load up with theseobjects. He made me “come,” as he called it. What a potentsensation.

I observe his hands as he swiftly makes roomfor the extra instruments inside of his coat. There’s precisenessin the way they move. He refuses to part with his Earth weapons,even after Na’ta offers to carry them to her compound in the karkforest. I sense he also has a strong emotional connection tothem.

Na’ta detaches parts of the canvas bags andwraps parts of it around her waist and the upper part of each ofher arms. She insists that I carry at least five trikes in each ofmy pockets, as well as a strip of gutters around my arm. Initially,I protest. My weapon is the light and only the light. But Na’tasuggests I hold these things ‘just in case.’ If I don’t need them,then that’s fine; but if I do need them, then I will have them.Chex strongly agrees. It is such a relief to see them in agreementthat I decide to lug these weapons.

“It’s pitch black in Ol,” Na’ta warns. We’reriding the wind but this time journeying eastward. “Wherever theOlligark go, they bring the darkness with them. I imagine that’show they were able to steal the Scepter of Gant. But we’re going totravel through the southern end of Zrr, their darkness doesn’t workso quickly there.” She stares farther into the distance. “Theywon’t be able to get a jump on us there, even if they do see uscoming. I’ll outrace them, and Adore - you’ll blind them with thelight.” Her tone is jovial, excited. For thousands of human years,this is how she chose to live her life—picking fights with strangebeings.

“Are there creatures in Zrr?” I ask. Iglance at Chex and he’s staring at me.

“Once upon a time the Aarap lived there butfrom what I know, the Olligark wiped them out.”

“Is that so?” I ask, fascinated by thethought of another peculiar species. “What did they look like?”

“Lizards.”

“So where the hell is this Scepter of Gant?”Chex asks; it’s strange because I’m sure he’s speaking to Na’ta buthe’s still gazing at me.

“Are you asking me or her?” Na’ta askssnobbishly.

“You.” He’s short with her.

She sighs hard and rolls her eyes. “The hellif I know,” she answers even though she’s annoyed by hisfascination with me. “But it can be in one of three places.”

“I know where it is,” I say before they canstart quarreling. “It’s in an enormous spider made of stone.”

The look on Na’ta’s face is asking me how Iknew that.

“Exgesis’ lar’im revealed it to me.”

Chex shifts his eyes from me to starestraight ahead after hearing that name.

“Oh,” Na’ta nods. “But no—it’s not made ofstone, it’s made of bones,” she says. “Those bastards kill oneanother to build their cities.” She looks disgusted by it. “Butthat place you’re referring to is called the Tarantula.”

“Tarantula. The spider?” Chex ask dubiouslywithout turning his head.

“Yeah.” She chuckles cynically. “Trips meout too.”

“You really know a lot about these worlds,”I say, impressed by her scope of knowledge.

“That’s because I get out and you don’t.Just think Ad’ru, you’re the first. You’ve had thousands of yearsto find all this shit out.”

Chex takes a curious side-eye glance at me.“Thousands of years? How old are you?” he asks me.

“Eight thousand years old, give or take. Butreally, who’s counting,” Na’ta answers before I am able.

“Get the hell out of here!” Chex exclaims.Now he’s studying me, but in a different way. He’s searching forsomething.

“The truth is,” I say shrinking under theintensity of his gaze, “I don’t have an age. I was born and now Ilive, and I’ll live until I die.”

“You won’t die,” Na’ta mutters slyly underher breath.

“You’re a fool Na’ta if you don’t thinkwe’re susceptible to death.”

Chex’s eyes move back and forth betweenus.

“Then I guess I’m a fool.” She winks at mewith a smirk.

I shake my head. I’ll never get through toher.

“What about you?” Chex asks, Na’ta. “How oldare you?”

“Older than you,” she snaps, reveling in thefact that he asks. “Fifteen hundred, give or take,” she finallyanswers only because she loves the way it sounds. The longer shelives, the more invincible she feels.

Chex doesn’t say a word. Instead he’spondering something. It’s as if he’s finally understanding that weare not humans—we are truly unique beings.

All of a sudden the environment changes.It’s white and hazy all around us. It’s the only color in the sky.But beneath us the surface looks made of salt crystal. Bulkyclusters of the material are spread across the terrain as far as myeyes can see. There’s no tree or plant or flower or greenery of anykind in this universe. It’s white and dreary and lifeless here.

“Look,” I say, pointing ahead at the top ofone of the clusters.

“I see it,” Chex says, glowering at thestrange creature.

“It’s an Aarap!” Na’ta cries, surprised tosee it.

She was right. It looks like a lizard. Itsvery presence beckons us to stop in our tracks