The Chronotrace Sequence- The Complete Box Set

by D J Edwardson

  Nolan shouted defiantly and that was when Adan realized there was no hope. He would never remember who he was again.

  He gripped the edge of the table, his whole body one large, tense ball of muscle and fright.

  “Numinae, you are my only hope,” he cried out loud. “Save me, please!”

  They were the last words Adan spoke.

  Twenty-Five

  Found is Lost

  Gavin’s mind groped for the light. A distant sensation beckoned him. It felt like something was chipping away at his skin, but his skin was somehow made of stone. The blows came fast and furious, each one more jarring than the last. Finally, one hit him near his neck that was so fierce that it shook him from his stupor. One of his eyes flew open, casting its gaze along the porous stretch of rock upon which he lay. His other eye, along with half his face, was buried beneath it. He attempted to jerk his head behind him to where the noises were coming from, but the stone held him fast. He realized that he wasn’t laying on the rock, but in it. The right half of his body was encased in this ash colored prison.

  The chipping sensation stopped. Everything was quiet for several moments. Gavin began to think that perhaps it had been all in his mind. The only things moving were the currents of sand, sidling across the barren plateau. The stony ground gave way to sand some fifty paces from where he lay.

  “Oh! You’re awake,” said a scratchy voice from where the smashing sound had come from. “Didn’t hit you did I?”

  “Uh…okay,” was all Gavin could manage to voice through the half of his mouth not locked in stone.

  “What’s that?” came the voice.

  Gavin mumbled and grunted in reply. “I con heek.”

  There was an answering grunt and then footsteps coming around to the front of his vision. At first all he saw was a pair of cracked canvas shoes like the Waymen wore and the hem of a dusty gray robe. Their owner got down on his knees and pressed his face near the ground so Gavin could see him. It was a man with stringy gray hair and the scraggly beginnings of a beard. His eyes were wild with fatigue, or pain, or sadness, or perhaps a mixture of all three.

  “I con heek,” Gavin repeated.

  “You can’t speak, is that it?” the stranger asked. Gavin blinked twice in response. Somehow the man picked up on the gesture and nodded in reply. “Yes, yes, I see. Well, that’s understandable. But at least you’re awake now. And that’s a good sign, isn’t it? Yes, I’d say so. It’s not every day you get stuck in the middle of a giant rock, is it? How did it happen?” The man stared at him, as if by doing so he could somehow unravel the mystery of Gavin’s predicament.

  Gavin traced back through his own thoughts, trying to solve the puzzle himself. He remembered falling from the Persepolis. His hand was locked tight around the punctured altitude canister. His garrick shuddered in the wind. Below him swirled clouds of sand. His bioseine told him that he had seven nanoslices before impact. He tried to stay calm, to think of a way out. He thought about using his garrick’s storm sash to break the speed of his fall, but knew it would not be enough. All he could do was pray he would hit an exceptionally soft dune, but even then death was all but certain.

  He caught sight of the ground right before impact. A large dark gray mass came rushing at him. He braced. And then…he could recall nothing between that moment and now. But if the rock he was on now was the gray mass he had slammed into, the impact should have killed him instantly. Surely he had landed in one of the dunes nearby. Perhaps he had been blown onto this rock afterwards. But then how had he become encased in it?

  Then he remembered the dispersion band on his wrist. Its shields absorbed not only attacks from energy weapons, but any sort of kinetic force. Could it have protected him from his impact with the ground? Perhaps. But that didn’t explain how his body survived the sudden stop.

  “I’ll tell you what. Just sit tight,” the man said. “It might take a while, but I’ll get you out of here eventually. I think I’ve almost got one of your legs free at any rate.”

  Gavin blinked twice again and the man gave him an encouraging nod and stepped over him and out of sight. The chipping sounds started up again. The pounding droned on for ten more microslices before Gavin’s right leg finally came free. After that came his other leg, then the upper parts of his body, each one more quickly than the last, but his head was another matter. The man took great care not to accidentally strike him there. The force of his blows grew so weak that sometimes it took several strokes before any noticeable progress occurred.

  While he worked, the man spoke to Gavin, apparently eager to have company, even company as uncommunicative as Gavin. At first Gavin could only make out the odd word or phrase here and there in between all of the banging. But towards the end, as the man worked more carefully around Gavin’s head, he was able to make out more and more.

  “But I’d rather be facing a storm, I suppose, than be back in that dark cell again,” the stranger said.

  As he kept speaking, Gavin learned several things about this man who was working so tirelessly to free him from the rock. He had very little knowledge about the Vast, for one thing. He knew a few things about the Waymen and it sounded like he had spent time in Hull, but he seemed surprised that the storms were so frequent.

  “And the clouds,” the stranger added. “There’s something wrong with them. They never break, never clear, never give way to let you see the stars.”

  The more he went on, the more obvious it became that something was not right inside the man’s mind. He referred often to a conversation between two people called the Lord of Death and Sentinel Orin. From the bits and pieces Gavin overheard, The Lord of Death went back and forth between being either the friend or the enemy of Sentinel Orin. Orin blamed him for the destruction of some other world, while at the same time, entreating him to help him conquer new ones. It was very disjointed and Gavin could piece together little beyond the fact that Sentinel Orin was flying on a ship through space on his way to wherever the Lord of Death wanted him to go.

  “I’ve never seen the Death Lord myself, but I’ve felt his presence,” the man said in hushed tones. “Awful cold in space, it is. The Death Lord is what fills up all that emptiness between worlds. Jiggles the brain just to think about it. But Sentinel Orin, he’s a crafty one. He’ll find a warm pocket in the middle of all that cold. If anyone can do it, it’s him. And then he’ll burn it all up and it’ll go cold again. Make more room for the Lord of Death.”

  He paused in his efforts, breathing heavily.

  “Not too warm here, though,” he continued. “But not too cold either. It’s like they say in that story, ‘just right’…Though I do wish the wind would stop. Sounds too much like voices at night. Might be the Lord of Death at work. Or it might just be wind. You never know.”

  With these words, the last of the rocks entrapping Gavin broke away and he was free. He lifted his head and rubbed his chin, massaging the squashed side of his face back to life. His muscles felt limp, but amazingly he was otherwise unharmed from his fall.

  “Thank you for setting me free,” Gavin said, grateful for the ability to speak once again. “I am in your debt.”

  The man shrugged and tossed aside the rock and metal wedge he had been using to chisel Gavin out from the stone.

  “I couldn’t just leave you out here. Not with those savages running around. I got captured myself by them once. Wouldn’t wish that on anybody.”

  “You mean the Waymen? You got captured by them?” Gavin asked, taking in the stranger’s full appearance for the first time. He was underfed, his clothes hanging off his slight frame. His robe was ripped in multiple places, and covered in sand. He looked like he had been living out in the open desert for several days.

  “Is that what they’re called? They spoke a strange dialect, but they could make themselves understood well enough. Cruelty is a universal language.”

  Gavin tried to rise to his feet, but he was too weak to do so on his own. The stranger was quick to lend a
hand, his grip much stronger than expected.

  Gavin brushed off the layer of dust which coated his garrick. “My name is Gavin,” he said. The man stood blinking at him, as if he hadn’t heard what Gavin said. So Gavin repeated his name, and added. “And your name is…?”

  The man snapped back to attention. “Kelm. Kelm Brennan, escalon, sidereal scout class,” he answered mechanically.

  “Escalon? Scout? What do you mean? Are you part of some sort of army?” Gavin began to study the man even more closely. He was relieved that he didn’t see any weapons on him. Gavin did not think it would be safe for someone in Kelm’s mental state to possess any form of weapon.

  “The army, yes. We are all part of the army now. What unit do you serve under?” Kelm asked.

  “I’m not part of any army, Kelm. What army do you belong to?”

  “The—the…it’s a secret, actually,” he said, clamping his mouth shut and giving Gavin a suspicious look.

  “A secret? I see…Are you all right, Kelm? Are you in some sort of danger?”

  “I suppose so. We both are,” he whispered confidentially. “This storm could turn for the worse at any time. And I’ve been searching all day and still haven’t found any water.”

  Kelm grew more anxious by the moment, but Gavin didn’t think his pained expression came just from the scarcity of water or potential storms.

  He certainly did not look to be in the best of health. Perhaps dehydration was actually the cause of his delirium. Gavin checked to see if he could connect to Kelm’s bioseine to find out the exact state of his health, but if Kelm had one, it had been disabled; he was as blank as any Werin. Even with his memorant abilities, Gavin could get no sense of what was going on inside Kelm’s mind. The thoughts were too disjointed and incoherent to make sense of, as opaque and impenetrable as the swirling clouds above.

  Gavin studied the sheet of rock upon which they stood. It was the only such rock in the surrounding terrain. There were a few small rocks scattered about, but those were smooth and worn and this one was rough and porous. It was then that he realized that it was an etram stone, or what the Waymen called a ‘vadi.’ For reasons no one in the Collective fully understood, these rocks transformed into a sort of spongy, fibrous substance from time to time. It took several days for the transition, but once complete, the etram provided a source of water for days before drying up again. When dry they held their present consistency and hardness.

  He must have fallen into the etram when it was in its spongy state. That, combined with the dispersion shields might have been enough to protect him from the full effects of his fall. But the rock was hard now. How long had he been out? He checked his bioseine to see how long he had been unconscious and discovered that it had been three and a half days since he had fallen from the Persepolis. He had, in fact, suffered some internal bleeding as a result of the fall and his bioseine had taken that long to contain the damage. He was still in need of medical attention, but he was not in any immediate danger.

  “We should probably get back,” Kelm muttered, licking his cracked lips. “When I look at those clouds on the horizon it makes my skin itch. I always get that feeling before a storm.”

  “Get back where?” Gavin asked.

  “I found a little cave. That’s where I’ve been living ever since the attack,” Kelm said, eyeing the craggy plateau off to the south.

  Gavin turned his attention from the plateau to a line of dingy-looking dust clouds about half a click off to the west. They didn’t look like they were moving all that fast, but that could change in an instant.

  “I agree. We should head for shelter,” Gavin replied. “Do you have any supplies there?”

  “A little water that I’ve been storing in a shallow depression. I kept some extra from the first one of those water stones I found.”

  Gavin felt inside his utility pouch for the four viand strips nestled inside. He handed one of them to Kelm.

  “What’s this for?” Kelm asked.

  “It’s a food replacement patch. Stick it on your arm and it will inject nutrients into your system.”

  “Oh no, I shouldn’t take it. You need it a whole lot more than me.”

  “I’ve got three more,” Gavin said, slapping one of them on his arm through a rip in his sleeve.

  “Well, I’m twice as glad I found you, then,” Kelm said, smiling for the first time, though in a rather strained sort of way. He pulled up his sleeve, but then stopped. His eyes flitted back and forth between the patch and his arm. Gavin had to assure him several times that it was safe before Kelm would put it on and even then, he stared anxiously at it for some time, as if expecting some awful side effect to occur.

  Gavin touched the extractor around his neck. Connecting his mind to it, he discovered that the Maven was no longer in range.

  “Hopefully we can wait out the storm in your cave. Once it clears, I should be able to contact my friends.”

  “You—you have friends?” Kelm asked.

  “Yes, lots of them, actually. And they’ve got a large ship—assuming they survived the battle of Hull.”

  Kelm’s face brightened at the news. “Will you take me with you—onto the ship I mean?”

  “Of course.”

  “I had some friends once…but I don’t remember much about them. I would really like to meet yours,” he said wistfully.

  “What were you doing before you got captured?” Gavin asked.

  Kelm’s matted strands of hair swayed back and forth. “I—I was with the army. I already told you that.”

  “Where are the rest of your fellow soldiers, then?” Gavin asked, not really sure Kelm was correct about this detail, though Kelm certainly seemed to believe it. “It might help me to get you back in touch with them if you can tell me where they are.”

  “No, I can’t, it’s a…what am I saying? I don’t even know anymore. Lost is found and found is lost. It’s all the same. They were doomed to die just like me.” Kelm pressed his hand to his forehead as if it hurt.

  “But you didn’t die, Kelm. You survived and maybe your friends did too. Once we find my ship, I’ll see to it that you’re protected and we’ll find out what happened to your friends.” Gavin placed his hand on Kelm’s bony shoulder. The muscles were as tense as the rock beneath their feet.

  “Wait,” Kelm said, his eyes glinting. “I do remember something now. There was another man—a prisoner in my cell that I left behind. I have to go back for him.” He swiveled away from Gavin and started heading off to the north, perpendicular to the oncoming storm.

  “Kelm, no,” Gavin said. “You can’t go looking for him now. It’s not safe. We’ve got to get back to the cave, remember?”

  “But I left him. You never leave a man behind. It was the building that made me forget him—it was shaking, and things were coming down, and I, I couldn’t tell where I was going. I’ve got to go back and find him.”

  Gavin was almost certain that Kelm must have been in Hull when it was attacked.

  Kelm set off at a quick trot, but Gavin was too weak to keep up with him. “Kelm, come back. The battle for Hull was over three days ago. Your friend is probably long gone or…” Gavin thought it wise not to mention the other possibility.

  “I can’t believe I let him down,” Kelm rambled, trudging on ahead of Gavin.

  “We can search for him later, after the storm blows over,” Gavin said. At that moment he reached the edge of the etram and stepped onto the sand. It was much more loosely packed than he had expected and he slipped and fell.

  Kelm cried out in alarm and ran back towards him. “Are you all right? Are you all right?” he shouted.

  Gavin gladly took hold of his hand and Kelm helped him to his feet. “I’m fine. I just slipped, that’s all.”

  Kelm shook his head and stared reproachfully at his feet. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Here I was babbling on about not leaving a man behind and look what I did to you. Left you behind. It’s like they whipped all my training right out of me
, but that’s no excuse.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Gavin told him. “You freed me from the rock. If you hadn’t done that I probably would have died out here in the desert.”

  The wind hit them both with a sudden blast of sand. The wall of rolling dust clouds was still some distance off, but the gust reminded Gavin of the need for shelter.

  “We can look for your friend once we’re safe. Either way, we’d better get moving.”

  Kelm’s eyes searched the clouds again. It looked like they were getting even darker.

  “Okay, let’s go,” he said. “I just hope Adan is all right.”

  Gavin cleared his throat, feeling a sharp sting of anticipation run through his chest. “Did you say, ‘Adan’?”

  The light of intelligence light sparked from beneath the matted hair covering the man’s face. “Ah, I see that you know him as well,” he said.

  Twenty-Six

  Storms of the Mind

  As they trekked across the desert, Kelm shared the details of his encounter with Adan. The words spilled out of him, one on top of the other, and Gavin did not bother to interrupt with questions. He didn’t have to. For the first time since they had met, Kelm’s mind was focused enough so that Gavin could actually see Kelm’s memories unfolding as he spoke.

  By the time they reached the cave, almost a click away, Kelm had finished his story and the memories began to fade, and with it his clarity of mind.

  From the outside, the cave was little more than a large, flat rock. Though it stretched on for another fifty paces, the rock rose no higher than Gavin’s shoulder with an opening near the ground. The mouth was so low the two men had to crawl to get in. The entrance sloped down and, the further in they went, the taller the cave became. By the time they reached the end of it, about forty paces in, they could stand at their full height. In the middle of the cave a small pool of water half filled a shallow depression, maybe enough for the two of them to down nine or ten gulps each. The rest of the chamber lay hidden in shadow.