Kholvaria (The Color of Water and Sky Book 2)

  Contents

  The Color of Water and Sky

  Copyright

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Dedication

  Prologue: Prisoner

  Chapter One: Surface

  Chapter Two: Family

  Chapter Three: Speleogenesis

  Chapter Four: Hunters

  Chapter Five: Revelations

  Chapter Six: Fear

  Chapter Seven: Legacy

  Chapter Eight: Afterlife

  Chapter Nine: Humanoid

  Chapter Ten: Marauder

  Chapter Eleven: Pregnancy

  Chapter Twelve: Spire

  Chapter Thirteen: Rivercross

  Chapter Fourteen: Chieftess

  Chapter Fifteen: Megastructure

  Chapter Sixteen: Powerless

  Chapter Seventeen: Mortality

  Chapter Eighteen: Death

  Chapter Nineteen: Traitors

  Chapter Twenty: Factions

  Chapter Twenty-One: Westward

  Chapter Twenty-Two: Retaliation

  Note from the Author

  About the Author

  The following novel is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this story have been invented by the author’s imagination and are not intended to represent anything in the real world.

  First copy published by Kindle Direct Publishing in 2017.

  The Color of Water and Sky: Book Two – Kholvaria

  Copyright © 2017 by Andrew Gates

  Written by Andrew Gates

  Cover Art by Sarah Anderson

  All rights reserved

  In an ideal world, publishing a book would be easy. Unfortunately, that’s just not the case. Once again,

  I could not have done this project alone. I want to thank everyone who has helped me along the way. Thank

  you to my mom, Kelly Gates, for your editing help.

  Most importantly, thank you to Sarah Anderson.

  You have been with me along the way since the start.

  Congratulations on publishing your own sci-fi book this year.

  IT WAS LOUD.

  The 18-year-old boy smiled, feeling a mix of excitement, nervousness and relief. Damien Saljov took a step onto the stage with his fellow graduates. For a few seconds, the 18-year-old stood there, waiting in anticipation, trying to soak in the moment. He looked out toward the crowd. There were so many faces he did not know, just strangers in an ocean of unknown names.

  “Damien Saljov!” the principal called out, bringing him back to reality.

  He walked across the stage, forgetting about the faces. He eagerly took the diploma from the principal. He smiled and darted off stage in excitement, pausing briefly to allow his old math teacher to snap a photo.

  Finally high school was just a thing of the past. It’s time for me to live my life.

  It was quiet.

  The 20-year-old man waved to his older brother as he slid the backpack over his shoulders. Even with the dark bag hanging on his back, Tracey’s clean Navy jacket looked as bright as a crystal underneath the light.

  “I can’t believe you’re leaving us,” his mother said, giving him a warm embrace. The petite, fair-haired woman’s face showed a mix of excitement and sadness. Her vivid red dress stood out as a sharp contrast next to her son’s clean white uniform.

  Tracey smiled.

  “I’m not leaving you, mom. I’ll be on the north wing of Level 1, at least for now. You can’t really ever leave,” he explained.

  A tear formed on her face.

  “I know,” she replied calmly, “but I’ll miss having you at home.”

  Tracey broke the embrace and looked toward his younger brother.

  “You take care of yourself now, okay?” he said.

  Damien nodded.

  “You know I will. College is…” the young man struggled to find the right words, “college is easy.”

  Tracey smiled. Damien patted his brother on the back and the two shared an embrace.

  “I’ll see you later,” Tracey said.

  Damien let go of his brother as the Navy recruit nodded to their mother. With a tear in her eyes, she nodded back and walked silently into the next room. She knew it was time to let them be alone together.

  “How is she?” Damien asked, changing the tone once he was sure she had gone. He didn’t want to talk about his brother’s wife in front of her.

  Tracey shook his head.

  “She’s not happy that I left her and she’s even less happy that I’m keeping Ophelia.”

  Damien looked down to his orange sneakers.

  “It’s for the better,” he said, looking back up to his brother again. “She was never there for Ophelia. There’s a difference between being there physically and-”

  “I know,” Tracey interrupted. He sighed and wiped his face. “I’m just worried how Ophelia will do raised in the Navy, surrounded by government and guns and-”

  “She’ll be fine,” Damien interrupted back. “Kids are raised on military bases all the time. Plus, she’s got a great dad with her.”

  Tracey smiled and slowly nodded his head.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  Damien smiled back.

  “No problem, man,” he replied. “I’ll see you later.”

  The 20-year-old waved to his brother as he walked off and closed the door behind him.

  It was familiar.

  The 22-year-old walked onto the stage for the second time in his life. The feeling was similar: excitement, nervousness, relief. Damien turned his head again as he waited for his name to be called. This time the sea of faces beyond him looked different. The faces were stronger, more sure of themselves, more prepared for the uncertainty that stood before them.

  “Damien Saljov!” shouted the school president.

  The Oceanic Studies student walked across the stage with pride, reaching out his hand as he had done only four years prior. He grabbed the frame from the president’s hand and posed as a complete stranger snapped a picture on her pod.

  When he walked off stage, he returned to his seat and turned his head, looking back at his family. He saw his mother a few rows back before anyone else. Despite her new purple dress and layers of makeup, she looked worse than he remembered. Each day she had been getting smaller and weaker. But she smiled nonetheless.

  Tracey sat next to her in his pressed white uniform. He fiddled with his fingers and looked over his shoulder, as if worried someone would attack. Lately he had been growing paranoid. Damien assumed their mother’s health was getting to him. After losing their father at such a young age, Damien figured the fear of losing his mother was putting too much stress on him.

  Ophelia sat next to her father at the end of the aisle, shifting around in the large chair. Despite her father’s mounting suspicions, Ophelia had grown into one of the smartest kids Damien had ever known. The girl wore a bright orange dress, shining like a flame in a dark room. The graduate could hardly believe how much she had grown. The six-year-old looked twice as big since he had seen her last.

  The graduate turned back around and faced the stage as another stranger received his degree. Young Damien knew what he was going to do next. After the ceremony, he would follow his older brother’s path and enlist in the Navy. It seemed like the best thing to do. The pay was good and steady, offering lots of paid vacation time and loads of extra benefits. Damien would never have to worry about a thing.

  It was traumatizing.

  The 24-year-old felt his hand shake as he held the pod to his ear. Navy trainees jogged around him in the black-walled drill court, decorated with crimson flags and Navy emblem
s. He ignored them like they were not even there.

  “When did it happen?” Damien asked, hardly able to get the words out.

  “Just now. I called once I found out,” his brother replied over the pod.

  Damien looked up as a young woman approached him. She was one of the trainees, though the chief could not remember her name.

  “Chief?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”

  Damien could feel a tear run down his face. He clenched his fists, snapping the pod into pieces.

  The trainees all took a few steps back, realizing right away that this was not the time to press him for questions.

  “My mother is dead,” Damien said aloud. His voice was like a whisper. “My mother is dead.”

  It was chilling.

  The 26-year-old shivered on the cold metal bench that pressed against the long red wall. He rubbed his hands together and puffed on them. Not working, he thought. Why are medical centers always so cold?

  The Navy man had come to be quite acquainted with medical centers in the past few months. Years ago it was a rare thing for him to venture into this zone, but Tracey had been in and out so many times that these days Damien began to see red walls just as often as white.

  The medical center was almost completely abandoned at this time of night. Most people were either asleep or in the colored zone. That was where the EMTs found Tracey only a few hours ago.

  Damien removed his cap and stood up as the doctor entered the quiet hallway from the next room. The older man’s long white coat looked like it belonged in the Navy lines. Funny how they do all that shit with color, he thought.

  “How is he?” Damien asked bluntly.

  The lieutenant glanced down at the pod in the doctor’s hands before he moved it away. Medical charts filled the screen. Damien did not get a great view, but he was able to read the words drug overdose.

  “Mr. Saljov, I’m afraid your brother’s lifestyle is getting worse. He needs real care,” the doctor explained, shaking his head.

  Damien sighed. This was the same story as last time.

  “He’s getting better though, isn’t he?”

  “I’m afraid not. I’d guess he hasn’t had a clean blood reading since he left the military,” the doctor explained. “He has his moments of improvement here and there, but nothing steady.”

  Shit, and here I thought he was getting better.

  “What of the girl?”

  “Who?”

  “His daughter,” Damien clarified, almost afraid of the answer. “What happens to her?”

  The doctor shook his head, looked at something on his pod and looked up at Damien again.

  “If he has one more relapse, the Federation will be forced to remove her from him. And based on what I’m seeing, I’m afraid I can’t come to his defense.”

  Damien knew that losing Ophelia would be his brother’s breaking point. He could not let that happen.

  “I’ll talk to him. If he knows what you just told me, he’ll pull himself together. Nothing matters to him more than Ophelia.”

  “I hope you’re right,” the doctor replied. “For all your sakes.”

  “He’ll change,” he answered. “He’ll do it for her. I promise you.”

  It was hopeless.

  The 28-year-old felt his heart racing, his head sweating and his hands trembling.

  Warm seawater covered Damien’s legs as he sent the archaic message. It had been a long time since the crewman had any reason to use Morse code, but his training kicked in as the Cassidy X20 filled with water.

  Damien looked forward towards his captain as she frantically pulled on the yoke. Her black hair dripped in sweat, soaking into the large foam chair like a sponge filled with soap.

  “Come on, come on!” she said to herself, trying to bring the submarine up.

  In an instant the front window cracked and water rushed into the cabin. Damien could only sit and watch, strapped to his seat as his captain disappeared from view, engulfed by the monstrous sea.

  “No!” he shouted as the ocean collided with his body, burning his eyes and choking him from the inside.

  Damien quickly shut his eyes and felt around for the buckle to unlock his seatbelt. I’m going to die, he told himself. I know it. I’m going to fucking die.

  The desperate crewman fumbled, unable to find the buckle to his belt. The co-pilot’s stomach rocked like he was falling a thousand levels. He could feel the pressure pushing on him like heavy metal slabs. He felt dizzy. He no longer knew which way was up. He could not even tell if he was moving his hands at all.

  I am helpless, he realized. I am done. The crewman stopped fumbling and accepted his fate. For once, Damien Saljov felt truly at peace.

  It was bright.

  The man awoke from what felt like the worst hangover of his life. Damien Saljov stared straight into the bulb above, too tired to shield his eyes from it. He did not know where he was, how old he was, or if he was even still alive.

  My life just flashed like a dream, he realized. It was all real: high school, college, even the submarine. Oh Lord Beyond Both Seas, the submarine. Damien shuddered at the thought. The last thing he remembered was the salt water filling his lungs and stealing his breath like poison. After that, he was here, staring into some sort of light.

  Damien tried to take a step forward but quickly realized that his legs were immobile. He tried to look down to them but realized his head was immobile too. He started to hear noise. Someone was in the room with him, fumbling through what sounded like a box of tools nearby. The clanging of metal grew louder and louder. Eventually Damien realized it was not the sound getting louder, but his hearing getting better.

  He tried to move his head again, but this time he felt the force of an invisible strap holding him in place. He wiggled his fingers and felt a wall behind him. Damien squirmed about, trying to move in any way he could. That was when he realized this was no wall. It was a table. Damien was lying flat on his back, facing the ceiling.

  I’m a fucking classroom project, he thought, shivering in fear. He wiggled some more, hoping that whoever was nearby would let him loose.

  “Do not fight it,” a deep voice said to him. Damien could not tell from which direction the voice was coming. It was almost as if it were echoing in his mind.

  The confused Navy man tried to answer but his voice was far too weak to produce any noise. He cleared his throat and tried again but all that came out was a long cough and some drool.

  Not knowing what else to do, the trapped man wiggled some more. Slowly the lieutenant felt his muscles coming back. He had not realized it until now, but it was as if his head, neck, chest, arms, hands, torso, legs and feet had just awoken from a year-long sleep.

  What the hell is going on? he wondered, finally giving his body some rest.

  Suddenly the light above his head shut off. Everything went dark for a moment as Damien’s eyes adjusted to the darkness inside the room. By the time his vision changed, Damien finally felt coherent for the first time since he had woken up.

  Above his head was a small transparent ball, apparently the source of all the light from earlier. The ceiling behind it looked like it was crossed with obsidian beams, not in a normal grid pattern commonly found in the station, but in an odd wave of V shapes flowing into each other like waves.

  “Good. You have stopped flailing like a fish taken from water,” said the voice, echoing in his mind again. Whoever it was, they spoke in the deepest pitch he had ever heard. It almost sounded inhuman.

  Damien tried to focus on the sound and suddenly realized that the fumbling noise had stopped.

  “Wh-”

  The lieutenant struggled to form the word.

  “It speaks! I was wondering when you would find the strength,” the deep echo continued.

  The man heard footsteps. They were heavy and strong, almost like the footsteps of five men marching as one. He could hear the stranger approaching him slowly.

  “I’m surprised to see you awake
so early. Do not worry about the memories. It is just a symptom of the thawing process.”

  Thawing process?

  As each footstep grew closer and closer, Damien started to feel the floor rumble beneath him. Whoever was coming must have been huge. He felt his heart race as if he was about to die all over again.

  “You must be confused. Do not worry, evolved-one. You are safe from harm,” the voice said, though Damien could still not identify the speaker. “My people pulled your incapacitated form from the wreckage. Your body sustained many injuries, but we have worked to heal it, and added our own enhancements. Only now have we awoken you from your sleep. Your body and mind have been in suspension for four months.”

  “Who?” Damien asked, now able to form a word. The footsteps were so close now. Whoever was in the room with him must have been standing right next to him.

  “Who?” the voice repeated in a strangely satisfied tone. “That is what I wish to learn about you, evolved-one.”

  A shape moved into his line of sight. It was not a person, nor was it anything the pilot had seen before. At first it reminded him of deep sea fish, like the ones he had studied in college. Whatever it was, it looked as if it had a drooling shrimp-like mouth, large round eyes like black slugger balls and a head the shape of a puffer fish, only wider and darker. But whatever this thing was, it certainly was no fish.

  Damien heard a faint clicking sound and was suddenly able to move his head up and down, though he was still unable to look left or right. Whoever was in the room with him must have released the restraints. Happy to finally move his head, the nervous pilot studied the object before him.

  It’s a head, he suddenly realized, I was only looking at the head. Oh Lord Beyond Both Seas, this whole thing is a creature, some sort of massive creature.

  The creature before his eyes had a thin but long torso, which connected to an enormous ovular abdomen. Its arms were long and its rounded claw-like fingers resembled spearheads. It had four legs, popping out from underneath a crab-like shell. Its skin looked like the color of vomit and seemed to be covered in some thick fluid.