Destiny's Shift

by Fall, Carly

  Within a week, he had sold all of their possessions and never looked back. Deciding that he had wanted out of the frigid air of Alaska, he headed for Arizona where he lived on the streets for a year while going to school, forging all the necessary documentation needed for him to attend. He lived behind a pizza joint fighting the rats for the leftovers at the end of the night. Eventually, the man who owned the restaurant, Henry, gave him a job busing tables and a room to rent. Now, nineteen years later, Blake had worked hard, studied harder, and wore an FBI jacket.

  As he once again recalled the envelope he had received about a year ago, he remembered that there were black smudges on the papers, almost as if someone had dipped their fingers in . . . ash.

  Blake looked up at another camera and stopped, knowing one thing for certain: somehow, he was tied to these people . . . beings . . . aliens . . . whatever.

  The black ash on the envelope that spoke of aliens and the black ash that his father produced was somehow related. It was flimsy, but in his gut he knew the connection meant something. He had never before told anyone anything about his father, as he did his best not to think of his childhood. However, sometimes late at night when sleep eluded him, fear made him sweat and shake. He didn’t want to be his father’s son, he didn’t want to be cruel, but sometimes, especially when he was angry, he could feel it just below the surface: a little voice urging him to kill. He had never acted on it, but it was there.

  As far as he was concerned, his mission was twofold. Number one was to find out exactly what his father had been, and what that made Blake. And second: if he could, he wanted to help those poor aliens in Area 2 because that shit was just flat out wrong.

  Chapter 5

  Jovan and Liberty drove in silence; the only noise in the car was the maddening voice of the GPS telling Jovan when to turn.

  Turn left in one hundred feet and continue for five miles.

  He hated the damn thing, but the GPS seemed to know where to go, and he didn’t, so he was going to put up with it.

  He glanced over at Liberty. Her head rested against the window, her eyes closed, and her breathing shallow. She had fallen asleep.

  Bringing his eyes back to the road, he couldn’t believe he was sitting next to an SR44 female.

  He had so many questions, but there was a distinct feeling that he wasn’t going to like the answers.

  As they drove, his thoughts returned to his home planet.

  Jovan had been the son of a member of the Royal Congress, which meant he would serve his time in the SR44 military. Always a little bit of a wild child, Jovan didn’t think he would like the structure the military offered, but found himself adapting to it, and even excelling. He worked hard to learn the fighting skills and to master the use of weapons, waiting for a war that never happened.

  The people of SR44 lived in cohesive peace, so there was never any fighting among them as there was on Earth. If there was a war, it would most likely come from outside, but for thousands upon thousands of years there hadn’t even been a hint of a threat from any of the other planets within the SR44 solar system.

  The Royal Congress believed in being prepared just in case, and their military was strong.

  Jovan had moved quickly through their military ranks, and soon found himself in the elite group of Warriors called the Battle Squad with Noah, Rayner, Talin, Cohen, and Hudson, among others. When the Colonists escaped the Colony, the six of them had been handpicked by the Royal Congress to go after them and hunt them down, and the Six Saviors had been born.

  His first hundred years on Earth, he was terribly homesick for the lush forests and high golden buildings of SR44. Then one day he woke, and it was like a switch had been turned off within him. Yes, he missed home, but maybe this Earth place wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t as pretty, there was a lot of infighting among its inhabitants, but it really wasn’t a bad place to be.

  He looked over a Liberty again. What was life on SR44 like now? Had much changed, or had it stayed the same as it had for thousands of years? Were the Forest Dwellers still constantly fighting the little dinosaur-like creatures they shared the land with? Did the golden buildings still shine in the twilight hours? Did it still look like a living, breathing rainbow when the cities were crowded with the smoky-colored forms of its inhabitants?

  So many questions.

  And Liberty. What the hell was he going to do with her? He figured he would babysit her until tomorrow, then turn her over to the females in the silo. Then he could go back to living on the fringes of life where he had as little interaction with people as possible.

  After he heard her story, of course.

  Turn right in a half mile.

  Got it.

  Turn right in a quarter mile.

  Shut up.

  Turn right in one hundred feet, and your destination will be on the left.

  He hit the power button on the GPS, thankful he didn’t have to listen to the robotic voice anymore.

  Pulling up into the driveway, he double-checked the address and let out a low whistle. The safe house Noah had bought wasn’t any house. It was a mansion.

  He turned off the car and looked over at Liberty. He couldn’t let her sleep out here, and he needed to wake her. But he didn’t want to touch her. He imagined the emotions would range along the lines of fear and worry. Or maybe he wouldn’t feel anything at all. He just never knew.

  He wasn’t going to take the chance. “Liberty?”

  She didn’t move.

  “Liberty?” he said a little louder.

  She jumped and looked around as if she were unsure of where she was.

  “We’re here, Liberty. This is where we’re going to stay the night, and then we’ll leave for Reno in the morning.”

  Liberty rubbed her eyes. “Very well. My apologies for falling asleep, Warrior. I had only meant to rest briefly.”

  Jovan smiled. “No worries. Let’s get you inside so you can continue that rest.”

  Chapter 6

  Liberty noted the house was like Jovan—huge and overwhelming. It sat on top of a hill overlooking the greater Phoenix area, and as they made their way through the house, she was certain she had never seen anything like it before, and would never see anything like it again.

  The large wooden door opened up into a huge foyer, which led to an elegant sitting area and an expansive dining room. The floor was a dark tile, the furniture white, and the ceiling seemed to crawl up to the clouds. Together they walked through the dining area with the large glass table that sat eight and into the kitchen area that was bigger than the small space she lived in. By far, her favorite room on the floor was something called the Solarium, which housed a simple white couch and had floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the lights of the city and the stars twinkling above.

  “Oh my,” she whispered as she gazed out the windows. As she looked down the twinkling city lights, she wondered which lights represented her place of employment.

  After a moment, they continued their self-guided tour and went down the stairs that led to five bedrooms, a viewing area for the box with moving pictures . . . what had her boss called it? Ah, yes. A television. She had spent hours at the club pushing buttons on the cylinder that changed the pictures and watching the images fly by, fascinated by it.

  A large table with balls and sticks laying on it filled part of the room. The glass doors opened up onto a patio with what looked like a fireplace as well as some tables and chairs. A few steps down led to a bath of water that looked very inviting.

  “I think it’s best if we stay down here,” Jovan said. “The rooms are close together, and chances of anyone seeing the glow of our eyes is slim.”

  “Whatever you wish,” she said, eyeing the bath of water.

  Jovan grabbed a gray cylinder and pointed it at the television. He found a station that played music, then sat down on the davenport. The male singer talked of a hotel in California, where a woman had pretty boys she called friends.

  Liberty remain
ed standing, staring at the floor.

  “You can sit down,” Jovan said.

  “Thank you.”

  Liberty sunk into the overstuffed couch, surprised at how tired she was, and she closed her eyes.

  “How long have you been on Earth?” Jovan asked quietly.

  Meeting his gaze, she stared at the plush carpet and wrapped her coat around herself. “I believe the human time frame would equate to two weeks.”

  “Two weeks! Jesus, Liberty. How have you been surviving? Are you here alone?”

  Liberty jumped at his raised tone of voice.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I can get a little loud sometimes.”

  She slipped her shoes off and nestled her toes in the carpet. It felt wonderful.

  “Well?” he said.

  She could feel his eyes on her, scrutinizing her. “No, I’m not here alone. There were twelve of us, but as I stated before, Warrior, if it will not offend you, I would like to tell the story only one time.”

  “Okay, I’m cool with that. But how did you get mixed up in a strip club? And for God sakes, please call me Jovan. And could you please look at me?”

  She turned her head. He was very pleasant to look at, but she couldn’t hold his gaze as she was unaccustomed to looking others in the eye. That was one thing that you learned quickly about being in servitude: the less you were noticed, the better you were at your duties. Those born into servitude were created to serve, nothing else.

  “Yes, Warrior Jovan,” she said.

  He sighed, stood up, and walked over to her. My, how he loomed. If it weren’t for the kind smile on his face, he would have been frightening just because of his sheer size. She bowed her head again as he crouched down in front of her.

  “Liberty, look at me.” She raised her eyes, feeling quite uneasy at meeting the gaze of someone above her social stature. “Just Jovan, Liberty. That’s it. Forget the titles. No Warrior, no sir, none of it. Just Jovan.”

  Unable to speak, she looked down at the floor again and simply nodded.

  “Okay, if you only want to tell your story one time, I can respect that. I don’t like it, but I respect it. You being here has me a little worried and concerned about what’s going on at home, but I’m willing to wait.”

  “Thank you, Sir Jovan. Truly, it is difficult for me to discuss.”

  “Just Jovan, Liberty.”

  She nodded and looked at him, doing her best to hold his gaze, his green eyes boring into her.

  He stood and stretched his hands over his head, his black shirt crawling up his torso to revealing a little bit of a taunt stomach. “But now I’m getting a little hungry. How about we head upstairs and raid the pantry? Maybe we can find something to eat that doesn’t require a whole lot of cooking. I suck in the kitchen.”

  She nodded, then followed him up the steps.

  Chapter 7

  Jovan found some crackers and a box of macaroni and cheese in the pantry, and figured he couldn’t screw that meal up. For someone whose creed was to leave everyone alone and they would reciprocate, he surprised himself at this role of protector and provider he had stepped into. He sat at the counter with Liberty, listening to her tale of how she ended up working in a strip club.

  “When I arrived in the city, I quickly realized I needed to earn money. Walking down the paved path one day, I saw a sign that said, “Girls, Girls, Girls.” Since I’m female, I went in.”

  Jovan listened to her tale, doing his own translations to her jilted English. He guessed the “paved path” would be the sidewalk.

  The club manager had hired her on the spot. When he realized her demure demeanor, he thought a shy French maid would be a great addition to the line-up. She would start off serving drinks, and depending on how she interacted with the customers, she could move into the coveted position of performer.

  “At first I thought that it wouldn’t be very awful to have a position where I remove my clothing, because truthfully, I find it very cumbersome. I didn’t fathom why humans want to cover their true forms in fabrics. But then I witnessed the way the males stare and comment on the females, and decided that perhaps having a position where my clothing remained intact was best.”

  Jovan rubbed his face, wishing he had another shot of Jaeger. For some reason, it was fine for human women to strip, and it was damn fine for him to enjoy the show. But for an SR44 female, one born into servitude to become a stripper sat as well with him as a case of head lice.

  “How did you get out of working at night?”

  “I told him that I had a child at home and needed to leave before darkness set in as I was afraid to walk alone at night.”

  He had to admit, that was a smart move.

  “I do wish I had some other clothing,” she said, finishing off the macaroni and cheese in her bowl.

  Jovan realized she was still wearing her French maid outfit under her coat. “I’ll get you some in the morning, okay?”

  “That would be lovely,” she said, meeting his eyes for a second, then her gaze darted downward again. Her SR44 form glowed from her eyes a light pink, as pure and innocent as virgin snow.

  She looked down at her plate. “This was delicious. What exactly is it called? And is there more?”

  Jovan chuckled. How in the world could she not know what macaroni and cheese was? Well, because she was from another universe, dumbass, and had only been on Earth for two weeks. He wondered what type of living conditions she had been in and had a feeling they weren’t good.

  “What have you been eating?” he asked after he served her more mac and cheese.

  “There is a place of business down the street from my living quarters that has ninety-nine-cent tacos. I’ve been getting my nourishment there.”

  Ninety-nine-cent tacos? For two weeks? Jesus, she was probably malnourished, and he wasn’t doing her any favors with the mac and cheese. When they met up with the other Warriors, he would have Hudson whip up something nutritious for her.

  He had to admit, he was a little concerned about the other Warriors with the FBI poking around, but he was pretty certain that they would be okay and get the hell out of dodge, which they were going to do anyway. The visit from the FBI just put their plan in motion a little faster.

  The plan was for everyone to meet up in the Fernley, Nevada silo. Noah had told Talin and Cohen not to go back to the Phoenix silo. Abby had arranged for Talin and Cohen to leave on a private jet that night as they had their contacts in, while Jovan would be flying out the next day because he didn’t have any contacts. He couldn’t imagine showing up at the Phoenix airport with his eyes glowing green; that wouldn’t go over too well with the fine folks at TSA.

  Jovan knew he had to take Liberty with him. Really, what choice did he have? He couldn’t leave her; it would be like abandoning a child. He would get her to the silo in Fernley, then put her in the care of someone else, and he could go back to his solitude. He wondered what everyone would say when he showed up with an SR44 female.

  And speaking of solitude, he realized he hadn’t heard any thoughts from her.

  Nice.

  He looked around the huge kitchen. Noah was always looking for new investments for them, and apparently this was quite the score. Jovan imagined he had picked it up after a foreclosure or something. The place was beautiful and would definitely fall under the title of mansion.

  Turning his attention back to Liberty, he watched her scoop up the mac and cheese like it was the best meal she had ever had, and he couldn’t believe that he was looking at an SR44 female. He wondered who she had been in servitude to, and what the hell was going on that she was sent here with others. And there were others? What the hell was that about? Where were they now? She had made it very clear that she only wanted to tell the story one time, and he could understand that, especially if it was bad news.

  However, the curiosity was eating at him.

  Chapter 8

  The next morning, Jovan left Liberty at the house and found a mall where
he grabbed some jeans and t-shirts he thought would fit her, as well as some underwear. He had no idea about bra sizes, so he thought he would leave that for later when she could be around.

  On the way back to the house, he also stopped at Subway and picked up a couple of sandwiches. Checking the Hummer’s clock, he saw that their plane would be leaving in about two hours.

  He opened the front door, and made his way to the kitchen. He didn’t hear anything in the house, and it felt empty. “Liberty?” he called.

  No answer.

  He made his way through the house, stopping in the Solarium and the upstairs bedroom.

  “Liberty?”

  Worry raced through him, and he wondered if something had happened to her or if she had left on her own accord. He quickly went back into the kitchen and was about to head downstairs when he took a quick stop and looked out the window.

  And he couldn’t move.

  Liberty floated on her back in the pool, naked.

  Her brown curls fanned out around her face where she wore a small smile and her eyes were closed. The soft swells of her breasts gently swayed in the water while her hands moved lazily as if they were keeping her in place. He let his eyes travel down to her tiny waist and the slight flare of her hips. A small patch of curls sat at the top of her sex, and he noticed that her toenails were painted a pink that was pretty close to the shade of her SR44 form.

  Holy. Shit.

  He made an attempt to move his eyes away from her, but it seemed someone had dipped them in a bit of super glue.