by E L Strife
Shadows of the Son
Infinite Spark Series, Book 3
-A Universal War Novel-
E. L. Strife
elstrife.com
Book 1: Stellar Fusion
Book 2: Requiem
Book 3: Shadows of the Son
Book 4: Red Shift (Coming Soon)
Infinite Spark Series Book 3: Shadows of the Son
Copyright © 2019 Elysia Lumen Strife
All Rights Reserved.
Cover Design: Amy Harwell
Thank you for purchasing an authorized version of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not scanning, reproducing, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission.
Shadows of the Son is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental
In the beginning, there were three species:
La’kian, Prospector, and Suanoa.
They came to be known as Origins. Their powers were raw and unpredictable.
The next three species the universe created were known as Elites.
Cautious this time, the universe formed measured beings to balance the first.
These were: Mirramor, Orionates, and Primvera.
While the boundaries are hazy with some species claiming to be Elites,
These are the most commonly accepted.
UNIVERSAL PROTECTORS’ MILITARY
Jameson Bennett/B, Team Leader (Son of Prospector, Prospector-in-training)
Josh Panton, Josie's Field Guard/Blunt Force (Human)
Lavrion, Atana’s Brother/Healer (Mirramor, Human)
Nakio Atana/Sahara, Independent Sergeant (Xahu’ré, Mirramor, Human, La’kian)
Porter, Munitions/Medically Reassigned (Human)
Remmi Tanner, Technical Integrations/Pilot (Unknown)
Rio, Serum Creator/Doctor/Prior Field Sergeant (Human)
Steven Cutter, Munitions/Psychologist/Tanner's Field Guard (Ari)
Yalina Cera Josandizer/Josie, Sniper/Pilot (Kojaqx)
SEMILATH AGUTRA SHIP SURVIVORS
Azure, Lead Perimeter Guard of Agutra/Inducted Sergeant (Xahu’ré)
Paramor, Lead Healer of Workers (Orionate)
Amianna, Perimeter Guard/Propulsion Maintenance Worker (Primvera)
Imara, Azure’s 2nd in Command (Xahu’ré)
Kios, Boy Atana and Azure Rescued/Uniquely Gifted (Xahu’ré)
Teek, Tech Whiz/Azure’s Friend (Simmaro)
Ramura, Perimeter Guard (Xahu’ré)
Rimsan, Perimeter Guard/3rd in Command (Primvera)
Cutashk, Healer/Paramor's Friend (Mirramor)
Miush, Saema (Female Healer)/Paramor's Friend (Mirramor)
UNIVERSAL PROTECTORS’ COMMAND
Miskaht, Home Station’s Commander, Munitions (Mirramor)
Krett, Pilot (Primvera)
Hyras, Pilot (Xahu’ré)
Nephma, Field Soldier (Kriit)
Klézia, Field Soldier (Xahu’ré)
Zembahki/Coordinator, UP's Speaker and Symbol to Earth (Xahu’ré)
Libesh, Field Soldier (Yvinna)
Evami, Pilot (Xahu’ré)
Dequan, Sniper/Pilot (Kojaqx)
Glato, Miskaht’s Guard, Unveils and Conceals Species Identities (Mirramor)
Terson, Sniper (Euli)
Ronux, Pilot (Xahu’ré)
Linas, Munitions (Human)
Jorjan, Security (Human)
Balie, Pilot (Primvera)
Mavene, Pilot (Picree)
Sergio, Field Soldier (Human)
Gruégon, Pilot (Xahu’ré)
Renae, Field Soldier (Human)
Vimno, Human Cataloging Psychologist (Simmaro)
Omut, Field Sergeant (Dagganak)
Part 1
—The Fall—
Chapter 1
BENNETT DIDN’T HAVE TIME to spare for the febrile nightmare unleashed upon him. He stood bare-ass naked, clothes charred and disintegrating, in the hallway between his bunk room and Atana’s. Earth’s shepherds and Agutra’s survivors had days left to prepare their forces for battle. He’d been told to lead the battle, but Bennett couldn’t even fight his.
His limbs numb from fatigue, from the fire that started in his sleep. No matter the strain of his mental search, he couldn’t recall what he’d dreamt. Blood thumped in his eardrums. Scents of burnt cotton and plastic invaded his thoughts. The violent essence of the visions gnawed at his insides, shaking him with fear he couldn’t place.
Bennett surveyed Atana’s sharp blue eyes, praying she could solve his problem so he could get back to work. Flames licked off of his skin the way he imagined a fresh soul ignited in Hell. He’d made a desperate attempt at conjuring a shield, rendering swirling fragments of clinquant gold around his hips. Freckles of hot white peppered his vision. His skin tingled from a clash of heated power and cold dread.
Atana, who feared nothing, who killed without remorse, had frozen in her doorway. She tracked the flares as they danced up from his limbs, his chest, his head. Fading out across the ceiling. Crawling toward sprinklers. Dangerously close.
“It was an accident,” he rasped, his throat raw and parched, staring at his blossoming orange reflection in the steel walls around them. Bennett slid a step closer to her and away from the sprinklers. He didn’t want to cause a ruckus and break shepherds away from their duties, wasting more of their precious time.
Her lips parted with a breath of alarm.
Bennett couldn’t believe the universe had a purpose initiating his transformation in the middle of their frantic preparations. Three Kyra warships loaded with hundreds of Linoan fighters advanced on the galaxy’s horizon with menacing force. War had broken out on Earth among the refugee species. And Semilath Agutra was paralyzed in orbit around the planet. UP’s shepherds struggled to keep the peace while readying ships to fend off legions of Suanoa. His metamorphosis could wait. The Kyras and fighters would not.
Atana’s mocha skin burnished with a protective, teal shield. Her hands hooked Bennett’s flaming wrists, and she tugged him into her room. “Shower, now!”
On any other given day, those words would’ve put a smile on his face. Each step was heavier than the next as if illness had taken him hostage. She guided him past her bed to the tiny bathroom at the back. Wavy tendrils of her long mahogany hair drifted beside him. In his daze, he reached for them, longing for a gentle sensation to combat the searing ripples across his skin. But his hand was too slow and found only air.
Bennett had grown comfortable with the roiling heat in his chest, his bone and muscle, his intestines. Not the fire. It came and went as it pleased. He hated his helplessness, the lack of power over his body.
His heart felt like a runaway motor. Too much fuel. Too hot. Going to blow.
A flash of chrome crossed his blurry vision. Target acquired. Bennett stumbled toward the shower.
Atana’s cool hands braced his sides, encouraging him through the door. She was familiar with his transformation; she’d been with him for most of it. Still, in the citrine mirage, looking back at her now from inside the stall, Bennett noted the uncertainty in her probing eyes. “What did you dream about?”
Atana jerked her nose toward the shower, telekinetically lifting the handle. Frigid water burst across his neck and shoulders. He gasped and tensed from the shock. His fever eased.
A thin bubble of aqua light gathered around him: Atana’s Nova shield.
“It— It was about Home.” Bennett felt a tug on his left arm and looked to see melted metal and a warped screen dangling from his wrist. Damn it.
Atana squinted a
t him, her shield clouding with steam and the hissing of quenching forged gold. “Home or Home Station?”
His bleary vision cleared, and Atana had edges again. Wild awareness prickled his neck as flashes of bloodied waves suddenly came to mind—water and bodies and her hair. Lifting a shoulder in surrender was all he mustered. Bennett couldn’t tell her his deepest fears and instead found himself apologizing for being out of control, for needing her help, and for falling asleep instead of working until he couldn’t count the words any longer.
Atana braced her arms against the frame of the shower, sagging with obvious exhaustion. Yet her voice was mellifluent and tender, not firm and apathetic like he was accustomed to. “It’s okay, Jameson. Deep breaths. Try envisioning yourself alone in your bunk room.”
The gray screen never worked. Bennett’s blaze continued to drink in the water. He wondered what the purpose was of igniting after a dream. What was the universe trying to do? Kill the only soldiers left to fight back? Break his will? Drive him mad?
“Why does it seem like self-control is so easy for you?” he asked.
Atana’s lips pursed. She looked away for a long moment. “It’s a complicated mix of Suanoan torture and Sensei’s training. I’m numb and furious. It’s white noise and dubstep noise made from sounds of war. It takes a lot of time, pain, and blood.” She paused, her gaze flitting up at his then darting away again, a timid smile accompanying a blush. “Just learned what dubstep is from Tanner.”
The change in her mood confused him. He nervously inspected his body. The ribbon shield he’d tried to manifest before she opened her door was patchy and on the edge of winking out. Embarrassment drew the heat from his body and thrust it into his face. Bennett spun, covered his backside, and cursed his condition. “Don’t look!”
“I better get you new clothes. Command’s called a meeting in less than an hour. You can’t go running across the hallway. People will notice.” And assume things they shouldn’t.
She sounded far too amused for Bennett’s comfort. “Just glad no one was outside when I was on fire,” he grumbled.
Her dolor hum in agreement made him close his eyes. Frustration boiled to the surface. This was all wrong. He was supposed to grow into a Prospector, an individual that protected and guided the beings of the universe, not someone who unintentionally and repeatedly destroyed things.
Prospectors, from what he could tell with his father, were human-phoenixes who doled out the universe’s ultimatums. They were powerful, precise. Not loose cannons like him.
“How do I get into my room?” he asked, tracing the dewy striations in the metal wall to keep his mind off of his exposure.
The blue glow of a wristband display lit up the steam clouds behind him. “Everyone has a code. I’ll get it.”
“You and technology. Is there anything you can’t do?” It was rhetorical in Bennett’s mind. He was certain she could do anything she set her mind to. It left him feeling incompetent in comparison.
“Technology is emotionless. Code does not bend or warp. It does not play tricks on my mind like Suanoa or Command. It doesn’t judge me for my scars, my past, my demeanor, nothing. I can control it in every direction.”
With a flick of her hand, Atana adjusted the showerhead further over Bennett’s back, dropped her bubble shield, and left.
Bennett glanced at her fading silhouette in the fading white puffs. He slumped against the wall, felt the metal give with his heat, and straightened himself again. Bennett ran his fingers over the dents from his shoulders and caught the reflection of his eyes in the steel—a pair of mini suns.
Home was Home Station and all the shepherds within. Home was his house over Ocean Base Thirty-three. It was anywhere his team was. It was with Atana. On Agutra. Here.
He wished he could forget his dream completely. It accomplished nothing. Bennett knew if he needed to control the outbursts, or he wouldn’t be able to stay on Home Station much longer.
Rinsing his hands, he put out the last flames. The ash of his clothes ran in gray streams down his legs to dirty the draining water. Sleep was fitful torture. He couldn’t eat. Yet despite his lack of rest and food, the energy within him grew.
Bennett dunked his head in the pouring water and scrubbed his trembling fingers through his hair. Despite every tactical plan he lined out, Bennett’s confidence Earth and Agutra would survive diminished. He felt like sweating dynamite—one wrong move and he’d blow.
And everyone’s fate weighed on him.
Chapter 2
A HULKING SHADOW blocked the light pouring in from Atana’s front door. Bennett quietly steadied himself in the shower.
“Nakio?” a deep voice rumbled. Sahara?
Only one man called to Atana through Ether by her childhood name.
Bennett arrested a groan and held his ground.
Azure had to duck as he stepped inside in the bathroom, little Kios clutched against his side. Azure’s charcoal hair stood in stiff tufts. Grease tarnished his hands. The slate blue maintenance jumpsuit he wore hid most of his navy stripes but not the colorless gray skin of Xahu’ré or the numerous scars on his hardened face.
Following the trail of ash and charred bits of clothing to Bennett, Azure glared daggers at him. If it hadn’t been for the concern that always shone in Kios’s midnight eyes, Bennett could’ve been fooled into thinking the boy was Azure’s.
Azure snorted in disapproval.
Blood thundered through Bennett’s veins. “How are the collector control modules coming along?” He hoped to steer the conversation away from the awkward tension brewing between them. The merge of Agutra and Earth had been relatively smooth thanks to Azure and his knowledge of Suanoan technology, his ability to translate, and because he was the head representative for Semilath Agutra. But negotiations were still in progress, relations new and fragile.
Azure didn’t move except for the disgusted curl of his upper lip. “Where is she?”
Bennett’s shoulder blades shuddered under a dull ache that reminded him of growing pains as a child. He hung his hands from the top rail of the shower frame, stretching away from the sensation. “She’s—”
“Azure, what are you doing here?” Atana slid into the bathroom, set a stack of clothes on the counter, and then ushered Azure and Kios into the bedroom.
Bennett listened to their muffled voices through the closed door. Hers was calm and steady, Azure’s curt and low.
Shutting off the water, Bennett reached for a towel. His skin dried before he could touch it. He looked to the folded stack of clothes his co-shepherd had placed on the counter, guilt stirring itself into the acid soup of his stomach. She always helped others, sacrificing herself. He’d finally found someone more dedicated than him.
Changing into the fresh uniform, Bennett timidly joined his co-shepherds in the bunkroom.
Azure sliced Bennett up and down with his eyes before stalking out the door.
Bennett studied the loosened strands from Atana’s ponytail. Her lips were swollen and glossy. Her neck flushed with light. Spikes of anger ripped through Bennett’s chest. Azure had been rough with her.
“Can we talk?” he asked.
She hung her head, keeping her face out of his sight and sat on her pristine bed. “Uh, yeah.”
The lethargic manner in which she moved when she wasn’t working made it look like she was in constant pain. Bennett couldn’t understand why she tolerated such behavior when she liked control. No matter of guns blazing, ridiculous orders from Command, or life-threatening situations could break her until it came to emotions. She kept putting them away, and Azure kept pulling them back out.
Bennett leaned against the wall examining the slump in her posture. She didn’t look ready to talk about Azure.
“Did my father, the Prospector, say anything to you that might be helpful with this?” Bennett lifted a hand, his veins still laced with gold.
“Oh.” She shifted over on the bed and patted the cushion.
Bennett wa
lked to her side but stopped. A mask of apathy slipped over her scarred cheeks. He knew better, remembered the stories, and regretted asking more of her. Her body was littered with glossy marks that screamed of deep pain. “I changed my mind. I’m sorry to keep—”
“Sit. Please.”
He did.
Her warm fingers braced the sides of his cheeks as if he might slip away. She closed her eyes. Atana hid something today. Something that broke her inside.
“Your father asked me to help you, said we were your family. Azure too.” She let go and turned away, her words falling to the floor. “The rest was us arguing over my role. I didn’t think I was—ready to help.”
Bennett chuckled at the thought. “Why does it not surprise me that you’d argue with the Prospector of the universe?”
Her cheeks lifted for a single, visible moment.
“I dislike how rough Azure is,” he admitted, grazing a thumb over her reddened chin.
Atana’s eyelids hung low. “He was caged on Agutras for thirteen years longer than I was.”
“You’re letting him, because of pity?” Bennett lowered his hand. “I want to see the fury in your eyes. It disappears when he’s around.”
“Too many people need answers I don’t have yet.” She fingered the tip of an inked feather peeking out from the sleeve of his T-shirt. Heat crawled up his shoulder beneath the flaming wings tattooed across his upper back. Her hands, practiced with guns and blades and breaking bone, touched him with frightening delicacy.
Atana withdrew to pick at the rusty grime in her cuticles, freeing a metal sliver. “Sometimes, I follow you in your dreams.”
He grabbed her wrist, gentle but firm, releasing a breath through his nose. His eyes hung on hers. “More than just the night of my transformation?”
She nodded slowly.
“But you didn’t see this last one?” he asked, figuring he knew the answer.
“No.”
Bennett slumped forward, resting his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands. Why can’t I remember? He couldn’t understand how Atana focused after her metamorphosis. She’d lost her memories—the first half of her life—but he was the volatile liability.