The Distant Echo

You Will Die by My Hand

REPTILIANS

Alex opened his eyes and was not yet certain of anything. He did not understand the fog wafting around him, though his skin tingled from it. Semi-luminous clouds sparkled with soft blues, greens, and whites, and he became aware of its clean scent — water vapor and perhaps citrus. Thickening, the fog pushed him up into a sitting position.

Something was very different, though he didn't understand it. Alex felt powerful. Brutal. Visceral. He burst to his feet, instinct and energy fueling him, but the image of his body falling from the tower flashed through his mind, and he collapsed to the floor.

Numerous clicks vaulted from the far depths of his mind, and though he knew it wasn't possible, he could see the sounds bounce off the front of his skull, dissipating back into the depths. A growl meant to be a scream came up from his throat when a foreign voice filled his mind:

I will kill you. I will take back what is mine.

Without conscious control, Alex began to claw at his body. His self-attack was vicious, but pain reset his will, and he was able to regain control.

A subsequent barrage of clicks and squeaks echoed into translation:

You will die by my hand! I am Lead Commander of this ship and its warriors; no one will take my power from me! I will kill you and consume your broken carcass as a monument to my dominance over you!

Terrified by the voice, Alex shook until anger flared within him. He whipped himself around, shaking loose from The Echo, and he screamed in defiance, "No!"

All was silent. The voice was gone, his head vacant. Information rushed in, overwhelming due to ultra-sharp senses. Current perception correlated with hazy recollection: the room he was in was illuminated but dark, shadows dancing in the fog. The walls and floors and ceiling were of the same metal-stone material that he saw earlier.

But that was a dream. A hallucination. Yes, that must be it: he was not conscious, this was all imaginary.

A beveled spine on the ceiling ran the length of the room, lights alternating on either side of it. At the wall behind him, a protrusion extended out that was as long as he was tall, like a coffin, fog spilling from the opening. When Alex realized that it was that tomb that he emerged from moments before, he shuddered.

Dropping to his knees, Alex tried to reaffirm his dream theory. A mechanism activated, and the fog began to clear. Without cloudy obstruction, the room grew brighter. When he could avoid it no longer, he lifted his arms to face level.

He gasped, choking on his own scream. His arms were not his. Thick scales made up his skin — varying degrees of greens, yellows, and grays. The muscles in his arms were far more pronounced, coiled with increased power and force, and wicked claws extended from his fingers.

He felt his head and his face. It was mostly round, with two ridges that flared from the center forehead and swept back toward the crown of his skull. Horizontal bone ridges served as eyebrows, and his nose was thick and armored. His jaw and mouth were more prominent, perhaps like a Neanderthal, and every tooth in his mouth was a razor-sharp fang.

An alarm blared, and the wall across from him flashed with a holographic display. The imprisoned depth of his mind was opened, the alarm setting the voice free, and a flurry of clicks and squeaks echoed, "Tactical alert. Assume battle stations."

Alex found that he had very little control. He could not stop The Echo from getting him to his feet, springing to the side of the room. Claws waved in front of a sensor, and the wall split open, the two halves of the opening becoming dark sand that flowed away. Blue light radiated from behind something a little less than convex in shape, oriented vertically inside the opening.

Alex was compelled to raise his arms upward. The convex structure rushed out at him, binding to his chest, nanoscopic anchors mounting into scales. It was a thin, flexible panel made up of multiple horizontal bars connected by narrow joints, and it was like an armored second skin.

The armor's exterior was a material similar to the floors, lighter in color, bearing a brushed chrome shade. A circular indentation on the upper left flashed red, and the top section of the panel discharged metal-rubber mesh bands over his shoulders and down his back, while another set of bands encircled his abdomen joining at the back.

A holographic display advised that battle armor had been installed. Two shorter, vertical bands were upon the outer shell of the armor plate. Alex placed both forearms along the bands, which then snapped closed, melding into armored bracers. A red-metal instrument of rectangular shape descended before hanging midair in the alcove. It was about the length of a quarterstaff, narrow, though wider at each end.

Amid quaking floors Alex heard the alarm blare and somehow, he knew the ship had tolerated an energy weapon bombardment. He stumbled, regained balance, and snatched the red metal instrument from the air, putting it on his back.

Inside the wall opening the blue light dimmed, the empty interior of it filling with ambient light. Polished chrome-like material produced a reflection, and Alex looked upon the unfamiliar image, detached from any reaction.

Before him was a Reptilian creature, thick scales for skin, golden-yellow eyes, sharp teeth and claws, and a thick tail thrashing about. As the realization crept in, The Echo inside his head laughing and mocking with foreign sounds, Alex moved his hands back to his face, the Reptilian hands doing the same.

Like seeing faded images inside a muted nightmare, Alex continued to inspect scales and ridges with clawed fingers. Another quake rocked the ship, and he was broken from his trance. Horrified by what he had seen, terrorized by what he had become, Alex screamed. He trembled and pounded the wall with his fists. He ran around the room, bouncing off walls, wailing, and slapping his disgusting lizard face.

The room closed in on him. Dizzy, disoriented, hisvision cutting out, the alarms and the shaking made balance impossible, and hecrashed to the floor. Hysterical now, he slammed his skull into the floor timeand time again, until blood-smeared polished metal-stone and his mind fell intothe black.