The Human Hunter (Alien Overlords 1)

“Oh no. How terrible.”

King Krush was that king’s son. He was appointed to the throne, and I was banished. I vowed then and there to find the human responsible for my downfall. But humans are not easy to track. You all look so alike. You all think the same way. Speak the same way. Obey the same way. Once the leader of the rebel scum returned to the pool of humanity, they were indistinguishable from the rest. The algorithm was unable to immediately determine their location, and interrogating humans led to little in the way of information.”

I have no idea why he thinks I care about his sob story. I think the guy who managed to assassinate a korabi king should be given a medal. Sounds like an absolute legend to me.

“Over time, however, I knew their location would be revealed. They could not hide forever. It was a matter of gathering data and feeding the machine. Two days ago, I found the human responsible for the death of the king.”

“Who?”

“You.”

“Me? That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s not. You may not remember who you are, but your followers have not forgotten you. The moment I tried to arrest you, they mobilized what was left of their resources. When we hid in the wilds, we were not hiding from korabi rescuers. I was avoiding the scum attempting to save you from me. A small enclave of rebellious humans who use their intelligence and skills to hijack our technology and fight our control.”

What he is saying sounds like a fiction. But it makes sense in some limited way. Korabi technology was used to come for us. Twice. But it obviously wasn’t being used by the korabi. It was being used against their interests. It was being used in a reckless and strange way, the missile shooting down Rath’s ship, and the shuttle leaving the city to find him, and yet somehow missing us in the forest.

“You were their leader. The crimes you committed while you were their leader are some of the worst the korabi empire has ever seen. You were careful. You were uncatchable. We did not know your face, but we knew your deeds.”

“If this is true, then why don’t I remember any of it?”

“Because you had that knowledge removed from your mind. There are procedures that can do that to the human cortex. You are surprisingly malleable. You hid yourself in plain sight, right beneath the noses of those tasked with capturing you. You are bold, and you are brazen. Now you are finally in custody. You are going to be in pain for a long time. And there is nothing either one of us can do to change that.”

Do I sense some admiration in his tone? He is not nearly as angry as I would expect him to be if any of this was remotely true.

“So I ruined your life and killed your king, and your response was to have sex with me. Are you that twisted?”

“There is more to this, Lyric…”

I hear voices coming. His exposition, long awaited, has come to an end. I still don’t truly understand what is going on. He has been telling me all along that I’ll know when I remember. I’ve been waiting to remember. Now he’s told me what happened, I still don’t remember. There’s an uncomfortable, frustrated feeling inside my skull as my brain starts whirring in the effort to recall what he says I know.

I can’t remember. I don't know if what he says is true, or another lie to mislead and confuse me. I don’t know what I know. I definitely do not remember leading any scum rebellion against the korabi president. That does not sound like me. His story is completely impossible to corroborate, and it requires me to believe I’m secretly a murderer who led a band of murderers. I don’t want to believe that. I think he’s a liar. And I think he is toying with me for his own ends.

Rath’s korabi friend has returned with news.

“King Krush has convened his court to see you. If you want to make amends, the time is now.”

Ten

Presented

Rath

The court is modeled on our most ancient and revered of structures. The korabi were born on obsidian shards, so say the legends. Thus our courts and royal structures are tall and angular, jagged and harsh. The interiors are clean and largely empty besides the bright red flares of ancient korabi text burning across the walls.

There are tapestries of fiery text over every inch of this place, telling tales of the bold and the brave, the loyal and the victorious. I will never fail to feel a measure of pride and awe when I stand inside this structure. No matter who sits on the korabi throne, there is a greater lineage present here. At the same time, the grandeur and the majesty of the interior serves as a reminder of my failure. I was entrusted with guarding this place. I betrayed it. I lost my king.