Children of the Spear (Novella): Origin

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Children of the Spear (Novella): Origin Page 6

by Gervais, Rhett


  Andrew materialized between the console and his seat, the brilliant golden halo of light that had destroyed the transport's windshield transforming into simple flesh and blood before his eyes. In a heartbeat the blond man was on top of him, slashing and cutting in a wild frenzy, parts of his hands still made up of pure energy, each strike slicing at the safety harness that held him from being sucked out into the open air. Not wasting a moment, Bobby slammed his open palm just under Andrew’s now solid chin, snapping his head back, and sending him reeling back and crashing hard into the console behind him, covering the both of them with a shower of sparks. Pressing his advantage he kicked out, aiming for the other man’s stomach, only to be a fraction of a second too slow as Andrew shifted to pure light once again, moving like a will-o'-the-wisp and suddenly darting behind him in the blink of an eye.

  Glancing over his shoulder Bobby ducked down just in time to avoid Andrew slicing through the metal and leather frame of the seatback in a single clean cut, his hand a shining blade of energy. Seeing no other choice he hit the release on the harness that kept him from being ejected from the cabin out into the open air. Gripping tightly to the safety harness with one hand, he lashed out with the other, thin tendrils of red-black smoke erupting from his clawed hand that passed harmlessly through Andrew’s shifting form, leaving a greasy stain on the wall behind his former friend.

  With a grin, Andrew solidified and came at him again, aiming for his throat, only to lose his footing suddenly when the transport tumbled over, both men slamming into the bulkheads above, bouncing off the walls in a wild melee. Bobby lashed out with dark energy, Andrew slashing, punching and kicking, parts of him shifting back and forth, neither gaining or giving advantage before the capsule righted itself once more, both of them landing in a twisted heap beside the pilot who fought to control the dying craft. Andrew shrugged off the blows to the head, shifting again, with Bobby losing sight of him a moment later.

  Bobby wondered where his former friend had fled when the transport spun again, and he caught a glimpse of the ground quickly approaching, a chill running through him. From his back Bobby saw Carter was still strapped to his chair, head rolling from side to side as the craft tumbled, passed out from lack of oxygen. Having only heartbeats, he did the only thing he could think of to wake him. Calming his mind he grasped Carter's ankle, drawing in a dollop of energy from the man, sending bone-shattering waves of pain through him.

  Carter woke with a scream loud enough to be heard over the screeching wind and emergency alarms, breathing hard like he had just sprinted a hundred meters, trying to blink away the pain.

  Not wasting a moment Bobby wrapped the safety harness from the copilot's chair around his arm, screaming to be heard above the din as he pulled himself up. “You’ve got about fifteen seconds to right this bird or we’re dead,” he said bluntly, gripping the other man’s shoulder.

  “Holy shit!” Carter’s eyes shot open with a jolt as he got to work, his hands a blur, racing across holographic controls. In moments the capsule slowed its rotation while dozens of small thrusters fired in a mad-dash sequence attempting to gain control the falling craft. Bobby could clearly see details on the ground now, red rock and cacti spread out over a vast plane, and he swore he could almost count the needles on the cacti. Beside him Carter shook his head as he fought to level off, slow down the juggernaut of plummeting metal that they had become.

  Just as Bobby thought they were done, he was crushed into his seat, his stomach and his body going in different directions as the Odin’s emergency capsule fired its thrusters with a deafening roar, the engines screaming in a high-pitched whine, slowing the craft. Bobby felt a surge of relief, a weight lifted from his chest as he felt they were going to make it. Then, without warning, hope was snatched away. The capsule impacted on the rocky red earth with a deep boom, sending plumes of dirt high into the air in all directions that blocked out the sun. Inside, the strap he had wrapped around his arm was torn from his grip, sending him bouncing like a ball around the inside of the cabin, the still-intact frame tumbled and rolled like a child's toy thrown across the desert, bouncing randomly before coming to rest at the foot of a rocky bluff.

  Bobby blinked open his eyes, surprised to find himself still alive and in one piece. He hung motionless in midair, held aloft by a suspension field, beside him Carter still strapped into the pilot's chair. The cabin was mostly dark, with a few dim emergency lights glowing a dull red.

  “Carter, are you there?” he asked in a quiet voice, praying the other man was still alive. “How are we not dead?”

  Carter groaned, glancing around and unclipping his harness. He stumbled out of his seat like a drunkard, falling against the bulkhead that now served as the floor. “I was able to angle our descent as emergency thrusters fired, not enough to stop us from crashing, but enough that we bounced instead of going splat like a pancake,” he said, limping to his feet. “Like I told you when you came aboard, the Odin’s frame is nigh indestructible, and the suspension field you're floating in pretty much saved your ass. We're just lucky what's left of our fuel didn’t explode.”

  “Can you get me down from here?” he asked, straining against the invisible magnetic field that held him in place.

  Carter shuffled around somewhere behind him, wedging open an access panel that revealed a series of switches. Without a word he keyed in a sequence, sliding his fingers along an LCD display. The emergency field vanished, and Bobby fell, landing gracefully on his feet. Patting himself down he felt lucky to be alive, much less come away from the crash with only a few bumps and scrapes, Andrew's attacks having only left a few shallow cuts. Watching Carter limp to him he felt a twinge of guilt, knowing what he did to wake him. Bobby was sure the man would limp for the rest of his life, meaning his career would be over once he got home. The service did not abide by cripples these days.

  “I should look at your leg,” said Bobby, motioning for him to sit and roll up his pant leg.

  “Aren't you worried your friend will come back? He seems dead set on killing you,” said Carter, wincing as Bobby poked at his shriveled leg, which had turned an ugly shade of ashen gray.

  “I don’t sense him anywhere close,” said Bobby reaching out with his odd sense to feel if anyone was around, finding nothing but lizards, snakes and a few desert rodents sniffing around. “Besides, he was always lazy, half assed about everything. Given the crash he probably thinks were dead, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

  “How bad is the leg?” asked Carter with a halting tremble in his voice.

  Shrugging, Bobby ran his hands along the emaciated flesh trying to feel if there was some way to reverse what he had done. “You may have to get an artificial leg. How bad is the pain?”

  Carter gave him a withering look, fresh beads of sweat rolling down his temples. “On a scale of one to ten it's a freaking eleven. What exactly did you do to me, anyway?”

  “I needed to wake you in a hurry, so I did the only thing I knew how to do. I took a portion of your energy, just a tiny bit. It hurts when I do it, but it got the job done, woke you up right away”

  “If that’s what you call a tiny bit, you must be out of your mind! And for the record it hurts like a son of a bitch,” he said, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes.

  “I’m really sorry, Carter. I—”

  “Give it back!” said Carter, suddenly pawing at his forearm, a pleading look on his face.”

  “What?”

  Carter narrowed his eyes, his breathing coming in short spurts. “Give me back whatever you took. Can’t you do that?”

  “I can’t; it doesn’t—” he began, staring hard at the shriveled leg. Bobby frowned, his mind swirling with possibility. It would only make sense that he could give it back somehow. Energy was never created or destroyed; it only changed form, so if he could take it, why couldn’t he return it. “I'll give it a shot, but I can’t promise anything though. This is all new to me.”

  “Yeah, like I’m an old pro!
” said Carter, a pained smile coming to his face. “Make it quick. I think something is wrong. I’m having trouble breathing, and it's so freaking hot in here.” With a grunt he pulled open his collar, a glazed look on his face.

  Watching the other man struggle to breathe and sweat pouring down his face, Bobby felt he had to do something, anything to lessen the pain. Steadying his breathing to center himself he dug deep, finding the flame of rage at the core of his being. The first time he had touched his power it had been like a tiny flame sputtering in a harsh wind, barely lit. Today it was like a bonfire burning powerful and bright, red-black flame consuming everything in its path. He coaxed it along, growing it, spreading it all around him. The illusion was broken suddenly, his concentration shattered by a blood-curdling scream. His eyes shot open to find Carter trembling in front of him, curled into a ball looking worse than he did moments before, his skin clammy and pale. He reached out to touch the hapless pilot only to have the man pull away, accusation in his hooded glare.

  “I’m sorry, so sorry,” he said, hesitating for a moment before pulling his hand back.

  “It hurts, more than before,” said Carter, his voice thin and tired. “That was the most painful thing I’ve ever felt. It was like I was drowning and on fire at the same time.”

  Looking at his waxy gray skin Bobby understood, he had done what he always did, Draw on a person’s life, the driving energy of existence. A few seconds more, and he could have taken all of it, leaving behind a brittle husk.

  “I have to try something different,” he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut. He knew the power was there, felt it every time he attacked. He just had to find another way to harness it. Bobby returned to his metaphysical bonfire, watching it burn and blaze in his mind's eye. It was like a hungry beast, clawing to be free, never satisfied. That's what he had been doing every time he used his power, unleashing a rabid dog to rend and tear at his opponents, consuming them. This time instead of releasing the power outward, he wrapped himself around it, caging the flame in his hands as it tried to escape, dominating it to heel. The pain was subtle at first, like running a hand quickly over a candle, but he was quickly overwhelmed the longer he held it, pain surging through him as the energy fought to be released, the rabid dog turning on its master when it found nothing else to feed on. The pain surged through him, his flesh bubbling and turning black, his blood boiling while surging through his veins.

  Fighting through the hurt, Bobby sucked in ragged breaths, his attention focused on Carter beside him. The other man was like a parched field under a burning sun, little more than flesh and dust. Not knowing how, Bobby coiled the energy like a chain around his fist and forearm, reigning it in, bringing it to subjugation. In the same breath he channeled it out, flooding Carter’s frail form to overflowing, pouring torrents of power into the man until he was like a water balloon filled to the point of bursting.

  A sharp intake of breath forced Bobby’s attention back to the real world. Opening his eyes he found the pilot taking short halting breaths, his face a mask of radiant joy. The flesh on his leg that only moments ago was emaciated, was pink and healthy, his entire body quivering with pleasure. Then it was over: Bobby fell away suddenly weak and shaking like a palsied old man with nothing left to give.

  “Are you okay? Can I do something to help?” asked Carter at his side, helping him sit up.

  “I’ll be fine,” said Bobby pushing him away and fighting to remove his red coat, every piece of clothing he wore was drenched like he had fallen in deep water. “I just need a minute.”

  Cater nodded, standing and looking around the wreck. “I’ll see if I can get us out of here. We weren't far from the valley, so I’m sure we can make it on foot if we double-time it.”

  “Two minutes ago you could barely stand, now you wanna go running across the Utah Plains,” said Bobby with a small laugh. The shooting pain making him cough.

  The pilot gave him a half grin, running a hand over the dead controls. “I know it sounds weird, but I feel amazing, whatever you did…I can’t explain it. I just want to jump over the moon or something.” Moving away from the darkened consoles he climbed to what had been the rear of the command deck, which now served as their ceiling. Tearing off a metal panel beside the door with ease, he examined the dark interior of the wall. “There’s a manual release for the door,” said Carter. “Similar to the ones you used to engage the separation of the main body of the Odin and the emergency capsule we now find themselves in. I think I can get the door open, and get us out of here.”

  “Do you want help?” asked Bobby, struggling to stand on shaking legs. With a supreme effort he managed to push himself up with the help of the wall, his tired muscles screaming like he had run a marathon.

  “No, I think I've got it,” said Carter, his brow narrowing. Using one arm to brace himself, he grasped the release, rubbing his open palm against the metal before clutching it firmly. He sucked in a deep breath, pulling. Without warning the cabin door exploded outward flooding the escape capsule in brilliant afternoon sunlight. Carter blinked away the light, an expression of wonder dancing across his features as his gaze darted back and forth between his hand and the control panel. “That was so easy; what did you do to me?” he asked, looking back at Bobby.

  Bobby could only shrug, not sure what to say. “I gave you back what I took,” he began, some of his strength slowly returning. With a grunt he pushed himself away from the wall and moved to stand beside the pilot, squinting up at the bright sun and blue sky. “Maybe I gave you a little more,” he said, examining the release mechanism Carter had used to open the hatch, raising an eyebrow.

  Carter’s smile widened as the two men locked eyes for a moment before he looked skyward. “I think you gave me a lot more! Is this how you feel all the time?” he asked, bouncing on his heels. “This is awesome!”

  “Let’s get out of here. We still have a long way to go,” said Bobby, preparing to jump. “I can pull you up once I’m out.”

  “I don’t think we need to do that. Back up. I wanna try something.”

  He moved aside while Carter bounced on his heels like he was about to run a footrace, shaking his hands to get loose. Squaring his shoulders he bent his knees, his lips pursed. “Here goes nothing!” he said as he shot up, disappearing through the open hatch in a single bound. Bobby shuffled quickly, craning his neck to see what happened. He was half-blind for a moment before adjusting to the bright sun, raising a hand to shield his eyes when he caught a glimpse of him, circling high above, shouts of glee filling the afternoon sky as he raced through the clouds. “Son of a bitch can fly! I can’t even fly! How is this fair,” said Bobby with a laugh, leaping out into the bright Utah afternoon, one step closer to Elizabeth.

  Chapter 11: A Nation Shall Endure.

  2061

  “Do you count yourself among the faithful Robert?” Bobby groaned inwardly. He had lost track of how many questions the dark-skinned reverend sitting across from him had asked, he only knew that his answers never pleased the man. His angular face and beak of a nose made him look angry no matter what answers Bobby gave. The interview had started soon after he had been separated from everyone. Once he had told the soldiers his name, they had brought him to the graffiti-covered room that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in decades. The tile-covered walls were more gray than white, looking like it was an operating room at some point in the distant past. The only new objects in the room were a bank of tall white cylinders standing side by side at an angle against one of the walls. Each looked like they were big enough to hold a full-grown adult, a softly glowing crystal display panel was attached to the right of each cylinder showing the faint outline of what looked like a person. A nervous assistant with wild hair and yellow teeth had immediately taken a sample of his blood and vanished a moment later. Since then he had spent the last hour sitting on a ratty chair with a series of small sensors attached to his chest, forehead and back, wrapping his arms around himself in attempt to ward off the co
ld. A rancid sickly sweet odor permeated the grungy room, and he could almost taste the mold in the back of his throat each time he took a breath.

  “I don’t know; I guess so,” said Bobby with a shrug, goose bumps appearing on his arms. The reverend stood up, smoothing down the simple black cassock he wore. Bobby wondered why it mattered if he believed in God, if he had any siblings, or was circumcised. “Why are you asking all these stupid questions?” he said, breaking his calm. “Shouldn’t the blood test I took tell you everything about me?”

  The reverend gave him a predatory look as he began circling the room, his arms tucked behind his back. “The blood can only tell us so much. To know what’s in a man’s heart questions must be asked and answered, confession given.” He stopped behind Bobby’s chair, placing a cool hand on his shoulder. “Are you a virgin, Robert?”

  Bobby squirmed in his chair, a look of disgust crept across his face. He hunched up his shoulders in a feeble attempt to dislodge the hand from his shoulder. “I’ve never been with a girl; I mean I’ve kissed—” he began in a halting tone.

  “That’s not what I asked!” said the reverend, his loud voice reverberating in the small space. “I asked if you’ve had sex, and don’t lie to me. The sensors on your person will tell me if you are.”

  Blood pounded in his ears as he swallowed hard, twisting his hands in knots in front of him. “I haven’t done anything wrong. I’m a good person,” whispered Bobby over his shoulder.

  The dark-skinned man came around in front of him, the smell of cotton balls filling his nose as he leaned in close. “Well, that’s the first lie you’ve told me today,” he said, a tight-lipped smile coming to his face. “Now, the question is are you lying about being a good person or the sex.”

 

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