Second Contact [Alien Nation #2] (#Wattys2019)

19

A sacrifice? Right now?

Rikar stood and watched as the small group of acolytes moved off down the corridor towards the temple. She was certain she hadn't misheard, but since when did the High Priest make sacrifices unannounced? It was strange for him to pass up the opportunity to have a hall full of worshippers focussed only on him.

She carried on her way to the public baths, but fear crept into her thoughts, making it impossible to focus on anything else. It couldn't be Jules on the altar, could it? If anyone suspected her of aiding the prisoner she would have been dragged from her bed in the night, not going to the baths. Jules was safe and her own involvement with the rebellion remained a secret, she was sure of it.

But what if Rinir had been betrayed and the High Priest wanted to get rid of the rebellion's leader before anyone realised what was happening?

Rikar turned around and took off down the hall at a run.

She paused a moment to catch her breath before entering the Sanctum. Couldn't look panicked.

Once inside the temple she quickly stood at the back of the assembled acolytes, half-hidden behind a pillar. There were only a handful of priests here, and no laypeople at all.

A whimper from above and to her left made her look up, and when she did she barely stifled her gasp.

Standing on the sacrificial altar in a white ceremonial robe not unlike her own was not Rinir, not Jules, but Tirit.

Rikar's stomach plummeted. Maia's words from the other day came back to her then.

Do you never sacrifice your own?

Oh, I've heard whisperings.

How long had they been planning this?

The boy's eyes were fixed on the High Priest, and they were wide and bright with fear. The Priest was talking to him in hushed tones, but Rikar was too far away to hear what was being said.

Rage ignited in her heart. She fought to keep her face impassive – one wrong word would out Rinir as a traitor to everyone. Tirit was only a child. Who cared if he was small, and would never be a warrior? She was lucky to have survived infancy, and had carved out a perfectly respectable life for herself. Fuck the Abyss and its endless hunger for souls. Did Tirit's parents even know where he was? With a sinking feeling, she realised they were probably the ones who had volunteered his soul. The white-hot fury bubbled up again, threatening to overwhelm her. That boy had nobody looking out for him. Nobody except –

The temple doors burst open with a crash that reverberated around the whole atrium.

"Nana!" Tirit cried.

Rinir stalked across the chamber until she stood beneath the altar at the top of the steps used for regular sacrifices. The battlemarks stitched into her carapace pulsed and glowed in time with her racing heart, as if she were in the heat of battle.

"You," she spat at the High Priest, "are going to let my grandson go. Now." A few of the assembled acolytes actually flinched at the venom in her words.

The High Priest only tightened his grip on Tirit's arm. The boy didn't make a sound.

"Stand down, Commander. 342680 belongs to the Abyss. His guardians have given their blessing. The sacrifice is as good as done."

"Tirit, don't move," Rinir ordered. "Don't do anything he says, y'hear?"

"Yes, Nana," Tirit squeaked. Stars, Rikar thought. He is just a baby.

"Why are you doing this?" Rinir demanded. "The Abyssal just received a mass sacrifice, how much more does it need? You have a prison full of humans. Why him?"

"This can't be fixed with the cheap souls of livestock. Look!" At his command, one of the screens at the side of the room came to life and started cycling through a series of pictures.

They were all grainy, but all contained similar images of what Rikar realised were small space vessels, like the shuttles their ground teams used to bring back prisoners. Sometimes they were in the air, sometimes they were on the ground in remote places, and sometimes they were resting on the spaces outside large buildings in the planet's cities.

"These were in the data packets relayed by our drones just a few days ago," the High Priest said. "Those Others who murdered our warriors on the beach are working against us. Recently their activity has increased. The Abyss is angry at us, and the chaff we've been feeding it. If we don't satisfy its hunger, they," – he thrust his hand at the screen - "will turn our prey against us. Right now they are helpless, but if we allow this to continue, they will form an alliance with the Others. This planet will be lost to us. Is that what you want?"

Rinir was silent for a moment. "Everything I've done," she said quietly, her hand twitching for a sidearm that wasn't there. "All the battles I've won, the invasions I've commanded, the planets I've laid waste to in the name of the Abyssal," she hissed. Two acolytes moved to restrain her, but one look from the old warrior made them hesitate. "And it wasn't enough. I am the deadliest warrior this fleet has ever produced, and you can't even spare my own flesh and blood's life."

The High Priest nodded slowly, and for a bright, hopeful moment, Rikar thought Tirit was safe.

"In that case," he said, his hand firm on Tirit's shoulder. "You should be proud that your own flesh and blood will represent you and your bloodline in the Void. It's the most use he'll ever be."

And he pushed.

And Tirit fell.

And without even a scream, he disappeared.

Rikar had expected Rinir to fly into a rage, to scream at the High Priest for what he had just done, but she didn't. She stood there frozen until the acolytes filed out and the High Priest descended from his altar, disappearing into the depths of the temple.

She didn't react as Rikar approached. She stood at the top of the steps, and the barrier separating her from the void wasn't that high. She had one foot up against it.

"Please don't jump," Rikar said softly.

For a moment she was sure Rinir was too lost in her grief to hear her, but then she slowly turned to face her. "Too many people relying on me for that, priestess," she said. Her eyes narrowed. "I know you."

"Yes," said Rikar, glancing around nervously. They were alone, but she stepped closer and lowered her voice anyway. "From the human's cell."

Rinir's eyes widened in recognition. "Of course. I didn't catch your name."

"309-" Rikar started, but she caught herself. There was no need for that here. "Rikar."

Rinir nodded, turning back to the void. "I am sorry I never asked before, sister. Had you not contacted Sarit about the human, today would not be possible." Her voice had become hard, an ice creeping into it that Rikar had never heard in person, only in the propaganda films of great battles.

Sudden terror threatened to overwhelm her. This... this wasn't her fault, was it? "Um, today?"

"Yes, sister, today."

"I don't understand."

Rinir turned and, without a backward glance, turned and marched down the steps towards the temple door, her stride long and purposeful. "You will," she said over her shoulder as she left Rikar standing there. "Come with me to the human's cell."

Rikar followed, but started to tremble as she did so. Rinir's words might have been cryptic, but she wasn't that hard to read.

Perhaps it was time to think about finding a good hiding place.