Galactic Satori Chronicles: Kron

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Galactic Satori Chronicles: Kron Page 3

by Nick Braker


  The stairwell door read thirteen. He half rolled his eyes, mouthing the word shit.

  Only seven more to go.

  Miguel’s footsteps indicated he was still inside the stairwell, but close to the roof exit. Magnus hurdled three steps at a time as he ascended, trying to gain on the alien. If Miguel reached the roof, there were numerous options for him to lay a trap. He had to reach it quickly, giving the piece of shit alien no time to prepare.

  “Mag, we’re on the tenth floor,” Brock said.

  Brock and Grep were both breathing hard. How did Miguel, somewhere in his fifties, manage to push this hard? These Omarii must be able to control their hosts past normal human limits. There was so much they didn’t know about these aliens.

  “Keep pushing guys. He’s got nowhere else to run,” Magnus said. “He knows you’re coming up that side. Don’t rush through the rooftop door blindly.”

  “Gee, thanks, Mom,” Brock told him. “Do I have to eat all my veggies, too?”

  Magnus reached the landing just below the rooftop door. He peered up at the doorway above, finding the barrel of a gun pointing down at him. Miguel fired. Magnus’ reflexes saved him again as he ducked back. The bullets hit the spot where he had been standing, ricocheting off in different directions.

  That’s eight. You have one more left.

  “Come on up, Magnus,” Miguel said. “I have one more with your name on it.”

  Damn, they are crazy.

  The door closed shut. The alien was making a run for it. It knew it would soon have additional company, so it would find a place to hole up and reload. Magnus dashed up the remaining stairs and kicked the door open, staying inside. Miguel fired his last shot, hitting the open door. Magnus burst through the doorway. His breathing was ragged and he struggled to get enough air. He stopped, putting his hands on his knees as he gulped air in. His eyes burned from the strain.

  The alien turned and sprinted toward the edge of the roof. It planned to jump. The building next to it was a floor shorter and close enough to reach.

  Magnus’ eyes went wide.

  It is a trap.

  Grep emerged from the other doorway atop this roof, his gun up. Time slowed down. Miguel dropped his weapon and pulled something out of his pocket. Brock had just come through the same door behind Grep. Grep had already decided to chase Miguel, trying to line up a shot. Magnus took aim, but two large air-conditioning units blocked his line of sight. Miguel was running with a device in his left hand now.

  A detonator!

  “Run!” Grep screamed. “Jump.”

  They had both come to the same conclusion. Miguel had laid a trap for them and was about to spring it. As soon as the alien cleared the building, he would detonate it. All three of them bolted toward the same building as Miguel.

  “Run faster,” Magnus ordered, screaming at the top of his lungs.

  Miguel jumped, laughing maniacally in midair.

  “Die. Die. Die,” it screamed. “Boom.”

  Magnus was first to reach the edge, followed by Grep. Their building shook as a bomb went off below. Magnus jumped, knowing he would reach the other building.

  “No!” Grep screamed. “Brock!”

  Magnus looked back in mid-jump. Another bomb detonated inside the building. The roof crumbled down and it exploded outward. Fire engulfed the rooftop and he lost sight of Brock. A scream pierced through his EP. A concussive force hit Grep and, an instant later, it hit Magnus. Magnus was flung hard through the air toward the adjoining rooftop. Even with time slowed down for him, he hit the air conditioning unit faster than he could process and blackness engulfed him.

  Kron - Royal Palace

  Tuesday, October 13, 1987 - 08:07pm

  Katerra

  The advanced Neural Projection room smelled of new construction and machinery, having been built only two months ago and rarely used. The new system needed additional testing but Katerra’s scientists anticipated completion in twenty days. Square in shape, it dwarfed the size of the original mental projection room it replaced.

  The containment system, designed to prevent physical harm to the Omarii, filled the entirety of the far side of the room from floor to ceiling. A single computer station claimed the room’s center area. Katerra sat down and activated the main station, transferring Chitra’s link to it. Various screens at the computer station and one near the containment system flared to life, all of them emitting a soft hum.

  Satirra had secretly used the automated system hoping to better understand humans, a dangerous decision on her part if any portion of it failed during her projection. She, like Katerra, was driven to be the best and had devoted her life to the Omarii program. Only Satirra appeared to possess the ability to resist the human influence. Katerra planned to succeed similarly. Katerra’s reputation during her years as an Omarii had become the standard against which all others were measured. Certainly, if Satirra could do it, Katerra would as well.

  “Computer, relay only Chitra’s vocal comments,” Katerra said.

  Blip.

  The computer replied with an affirmation tone, indicating the computer had received and accepted the order.

  Katerra examined the readings from other potential hosts near Chitra. Humans roamed the area around the building that Chitra planned to use. Some moved quickly with the vehicles that propelled them through their city streets while others moved slower along its sidewalks on foot. Earth populations were dense within their cities and extraordinarily high across their planet. Kron relegated their populations mainly to cities. They had to due to the black ash infused with lethal bacteria that constantly rained down upon their planet, a condition that the Aliri would pay for with their own extermination.

  Earths’ abundant population, currently at 5.0133 billion, surpassed her peoples’ population at 5,281,964. Earth’s mortality rates were low compared to her peoples’ rates which were at eighty-one percent. Chitra’s words interrupted Katerra.

  “I’m not a bitch,” Chitra screamed.

  Chitra had lost control. Giving away her location inside the stairwell was a tactical mistake.

  Magnus will die today even if the trap fails.

  Katerra planned to take over the mind of another Earth being. She would find someone near Chitra, follow this being called Magnus and assassinate him. If Chitra continued with the plan, Katerra would not need to get involved. The three beings following Chitra were being led into a trap. It was unprecedented. They were new to this since only Earth had successfully prevented its destruction against her Omarii. No other race ever knew what happened to it when an Omarii finished their mission.

  A temporary setback and one that I will ensure does not happen again.

  She cycled through several targets in the area. The computer displayed statistics on each one as she parsed through.

  Human: Male, Height: 6’ 3”, Weight: 157 pounds, Age: 32, Distance from target: 310 feet.

  Impressive, but it is a threat. The human, Magnus, would be wary of if it got too close.

  Katerra adjusted the filter to remove males from the list.

  Human: Female, Height: 5’ 6”, Weight: 119 pounds, Age: 19, Distance from target: 592 feet.

  This one is a possibility. Magnus has a weakness against human females.

  Human: Female, Height: 5’ 8”, Weight: 94 pounds, Age: 62, Distance from target: 627 feet.

  Feeble.

  Katerra adjusted the filter to exclude humans above the age of 50. She cycled through other choices, dismissing several more as candidates.

  Human: Female, Height: 4’ 1”, Weight: 63 pounds, Age: 7, Distance from target: 4,807 feet.

  Interesting. Female and young. One of their children. Perfect.

  Katerra locked the tracking system onto the child.

  “Come on up, Magnus,” Chitra said. “I have one more with your name on it.”

  Good, at least she’s still functional and is moving the plan along.

  Katerra tugged at the seam of her shirt, loosening the b
inder. She removed her top and placed it on a table reserved for Omarii clothing. She pulled her pants off as well, repeating the process. She continued, removing all her clothing. The warm floor made no sound as she walked upon it with her bare feet, returning to the computer station. Katerra’s skin was milky white like all Kron, their sun obscured from them for decades by the black ash. Her raven hair was straight and reached her shoulders in thick strands.

  “Die. Die. Die,” Chitra screamed. “Boom.”

  “Computer,” Katerra said, “activate mental and somatic mode. Prepare for neural projection.”

  Blip.

  The Earth building detonated.

  Katerra approached the containment area. She stopped at its edge, looking down. The circular floor, twenty feet in diameter, was one foot lower than the main floor and perfectly smooth. The textured black metal of the main floor stood in contrast to the white, polished floor of the containment area. The ceiling was dark blue with the containment area above mirroring the floor below perfectly. She stepped down into it and moved to the center.

  “Switch visual cortex feed from Chitra to the display in front of me.”

  Chitra’s feed showed her entering the stairwell through the door atop the second building.

  Another tactical mistake. She did not confirm their deaths. I’ll deal with you later, Chitra.

  “Computer, switch display to tracking system. Show me the location of my selected target.”

  Blip.

  “Computer, are the three humans who were chasing Chitra alive?”

  “Two are injured and one is missing,” it responded.

  The computer’s voice was female and emotionless in its responses.

  “Missing? Locate,” Katerra ordered.

  “Unable to comply. Subject is missing. Conjecture: the force of all three blasts vaporized and incinerated the body.”

  “Are any Aliri ships nearby? Could they have teleported the human out?”

  “Negative: Aliri ship count, zero.”

  The Aliri had developed teleportation technology decades ago, forcing Katerra to maintain a permanent forcefield around Kron, its moon and their ships in space. The forcefields blocked the scans necessary to choose a target and it blocked the teleportation beam itself. The Aliri technology could pull any person or object from light years away. It was useless as a weapon since any conscious being aware of the technology could simply move away from the beam’s teleportation point. The beam created a rhythmic high and low pressure zone that even the dullest could avoid, if they knew its purpose. As a weapon, it could kidnap its victim but only if the target lacked the intelligence to move away. Alestron used it constantly to pull their vermin-like people from inside the dead husks that they animated. Katerra’s scientists were close to developing the technology, too. Katerra returned her focus to the projection system.

  “Activate containment field,” Katerra ordered.

  A blue column of energy rose from the floor below, like liquid filling a tube. It touched her feet, moving up along her body. Katerra’s legs tingled at the energy’s touch and she willed herself to relax. The energy’s initial sensation upon her flesh felt like a light electrical discharge. Unpleasant and annoying but its affect abated, leaving no residual sensation. The field continued, reaching her abdomen, her breasts, her neck and immersing her completely.

  “Activate gravity dampeners,” she said.

  Blip.

  Her body felt lighter as the dampener engaged and the effect increased. Her arms shifted away from her sides, naturally floating to a neutral position. Her feet left the floor as the system adjusted her position within the containment field to its center point. Katerra hovered over the floor, nestled completely in the cerulean light. Kron’s planetary gravity had no hold on her now as the system adjusted the inertial forces around her, keeping Katerra safely within the field. Her hair floated behind her, moving in response to the turns of her head. Her hazel eyes glanced at the screen again.

  It has been a long time.

  “Status?” Katerra said.

  “Tracking system, stable lock on human target. Omarii bio-scan readings, normal. Power systems, full and stable. Containment field, nominal. Neural Projection System, conduit is open and link established between subjects. Activation, awaiting your command.”

  “Begin sixty second neural swap and switch to fully automated mode,” Katerra ordered.

  “This system is capable of bypassing the thirty second-”

  “Override. Use the sixty second process.”

  Blip.

  The countdown had begun. The new system still took the same length of time to swap but Katerra wanted to use the old method. She wanted the extra time, giving her thirty seconds of preparation and then the mapping would begin. Katerra would open the eyes of another creature on an entirely new world for the first time in two decades. She would use this creature, follow Magnus and wait for her time to strike.

  “Computer, relay location of target, Magnus Carson.”

  “Upon your arrival, target will be estimated at 3,960 feet north of your position. Target is currently heading south toward your chosen target.”

  He doesn’t know who he is dealing with. Shame, I wish I could offer him a fair challenge but my people come first. He will die and never see it coming.

  Chapter 3

  MARIANGEL

  Earth - Managua, Nicaragua

  Tuesday, October 13, 1987 - 08:30pm

  Magnus

  Someone shook him.

  “Mag, wake up,” Grep said. “Damn it, wake up.”

  Grep shook him again, weaker this time. Magnus opened his eyes, finding Grep sitting next to him. A chalky white ash covered Grep from head to toe, and now that he checked, it covered Magnus and the rooftop, too.

  “What-?” Magnus said, rubbing his head.

  “I’m hurt,” Grep said. “I have a broken arm, several fractures, and a high probability of internal bleeding.”

  Magnus rolled to his side, wincing in pain. He sat up.

  “Can you walk?” Magnus asked, leaning back against the dented air conditioning unit.

  Magnus cringed and he moved his hands to his ribs, wrapping his arms lightly around his chest.

  “Yeah, legs are fine, but I can’t guarantee I can go very far. You’re hurt, as well, but we both know you’re already healing.”

  “How am I hurt?” Magnus asked.

  Grep’s voice was quiet, sullen.

  “You have a broken rib and probably a concussion,” Grep responded. “The back of your head was bleeding, though it appears to have stopped.”

  “What about... Brock?” Magnus asked.

  Grep shook his head.

  “I’m not sure but,” Grep said, looking down, “he’s not on this roof with us.”

  Brock was dead, too? It was unbearable. Magnus’ eyes burned. Anger detonated inside, consuming him with rage. His face betrayed his emotions while Grep watched quietly. Grep knew what he felt and that Magnus blamed himself. His fists shook for several seconds, but then he relaxed. The deaths still hurt and, if he continued to let them fester, they would hurt more than he could handle. He had to bury the feelings until he could get revenge. Magnus’ voice dropped to a monotone whisper.

  “They’ll try again, Grep. You know that,” Magnus said, looking up. “Where’s Miguel?”

  “Gone. I managed to stay conscious after the blast. I watched him get away. Mag, I’m pretty sure the Omarii doesn’t know we made it. It didn’t stick around to check. It just laughed uncontrollably. It appeared to have lost its mind, like the other one.”

  A small, stray cloud floated in the night sky above them. A gentle breeze from the west pushed the ash and smoke east, away from the rooftop and the destroyed building next to it. The sounds of screaming and chaos reached his ears from below. The collapsing building had crushed those nearby. Sirens blared, growing louder as they approached.

  “Yeah, they will,” Grep said, pausing, “but right now, we’ve go
t to find Brock.”

  Grep’s eyes were looking through Magnus. It lasted a few seconds and slowly they focused on him again.

  Shit, Grep’s really hurt.

  Magnus nodded, answering Grep’s statement. He touched the back of his ear, activating his EP.

  “Call Field Base Seven,”

  Beep.

  The response only took a few moments, but the delay meant precious seconds for Grep. They were in the heart of a city in Nicaragua and, given that tensions with this country were high before the Omarii took over, they now bordered on all-out war. The helicopters would make it to them. There was little the Nicaraguan army could do against them as they were outfitted with some of the alien technology the girls had developed. The only question he had, would they make it in time?

  “Commander Graves here.”

  “Commander, we have injured agents. I need a medical evac, stat,” Magnus said.

  “We have your location, Agent Carson. Standby,” Graves said.

  “Thank you, sir,” Magnus said.

  “And, uh, Magnus. Hang in there. We’ll get you. Graves out.”

  Magnus ended the call, activating his EP again.

  “Call Alexandria,” Magnus said.

  Beep. His device connected to Alexandria’s, waiting for her to accept the connection.

  “Alexandria,” she responded.

  “Magnus here.”

  “Status?” she asked.

  “The Omarii escaped. Grep is badly hurt. We have an evac team incoming,” he told her.

  She already knew why he hadn’t mentioned Brock.

  “Don’t do it, Magnus,” she said.

  Apparently, she also figured out Magnus planned to stay and not return with the evac. Alexandria wasn’t augmented, but she always amazed him with her intuitive leaps. Grep didn’t need to know Magnus planned to stay. Right now, Grep was fading fast or he’d have read Magnus’ intentions and started arguing about it.

 

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