Ignotus

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by Kevin Hardman




  IGNOTUS

  Fringe Worlds #3

  By

  Kevin Hardman

  Kid Sensation Series

  Sensation: A Superhero Novel

  Mutation (A Kid Sensation Novel)

  Infiltration (A Kid Sensation Novel)

  Revelation (A Kid Sensation Novel)

  Coronation (A Kid Sensation Novel)

  Replication (A Kid Sensation Novel)

  Incarnation (A Kid Sensation Novel)

  Kid Sensation Companion Series

  Amped

  Mouse’s Tale (An Alpha League Supers Novel)

  The Warden Series

  Warden (Book 1: Wendigo Fever)

  Warden (Book 2: Lure of the Lamia)

  Warden (Book 3: Attack of the Aswang)

  The Fringe Worlds

  Terminus (Fringe Worlds #1)

  Efferus (Fringe Worlds #2)

  Ignotus (Fringe Worlds #3)

  Boxed Sets

  The Kid Sensation Series (Books 1–3)

  The Warden Series (Books 1–3)

  Worlds of Wonder

  Short Stories

  Extraction: A Kid Sensation Story

  This book is a work of fiction contrived by the author, and is not meant to reflect any actual or specific person, place, action, incident or event. Any resemblance to incidents, events, actions, locales or persons, living or dead, factual or fictional, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 by Kevin Hardman.

  Cover Design by Isikol Edited by Faith Williams, The Atwater Group This book is published by I&H Recherche Publishing.

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information, address I&H Recherche Publishing, P.O. Box 2727, Cypress, TX 77410.

  ISBN: 978-1-937666-49-1

  Printed in the U.S.A.

  Acknowledgments

  I would like to thank the following for their help with this book: GOD, who has blessed me in more ways than I can count; and my family, for showing exceptional patience, love, and understanding when it comes to my writing.

  Thank you for purchasing this book! If, after reading, you find that you enjoyed it, please feel free to leave a review on the site from which it was purchased.

  Also, if you would like to be notified when I release new books, please subscribe to my mailing list via the following link: http://eepurl.com/C5a45

  Finally, for those who may be interested in following me, I have included my website and social media account info:

  Website: http://www.kevinhardmanauthor.com/

  BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/kevin-hardman? follow=true

  Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Kevin-Hardman/e/B00CLTY3YM

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  And if you like my work, please consider supporting me on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/kevinhardman

  Ignotus -

  unknown;

  strange;

  weird;

  alien.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  Chapter 73

  Chapter 74

  Chapter 75

  Chapter 76

  Chapter 77

  Chapter 78

  Chapter 79

  Chapter 80

  Chapter 81

  Chapter 82

  Chapter 83

  Chapter 84

  Chapter 85

  Chapter 86

  Chapter 87

  Chapter 88

  Chapter 89

  Chapter 90

  Chapter 91

  Chapter 92

  Chapter 93

  Chapter 94

  Chapter 95

  Chapter 96

  Chapter 97

  Chapter 98

  Chapter 99

  Chapter 100

  Chapter 101

  Chapter 102

  Chapter 103

  Chapter 104

  Chapter 105

  Chapter 1

  To Bain Browing, it felt like an interrogation.

  At present, he sat at a broad, circular conference table capable of seating (and currently accommodating) a score of people. Hefty and ornate, it had been hand-carved from a single block of wood taken from some rare, arboreal colossus on a distant world. It was the type of table meant for the discussion of weighty matters, issues of import. Moreover, Browing recognized that the table’s round design – with no clear “head” – was meant to further such discussions by giving the impression that those who occupied seats around it were equals.

  Browing was operating under no such illusions at the moment. Glancing around at those seated at the table with him, he plainly understood that he was not an equal here. He had some very powerful connections, but there was no doubt that he was currently out of his depth.

  First of all, the sheer amount of military brass was almost startling, and – judging by the stars on their uniforms – they were far from rank and file. Nothing but top-level generals, field marshals, fleet admirals, and more. It seemed to Browing that there were more stars in the room than in the night sky.

  Not to be outdone, the civilian sector was also well-represented. Those present included high-ranking civil servants, powerhouse political appointees, and incredibly influential elected officials.

  All in all, Browing estimated – conservatively – that at least a quarter of humanity’s government (including military might) was controlled by the people sitting with him.

  No, he was not an equal here – not by any stretch of the imagination. Therefore, the fact that he was here at all could only mean one thing: they wanted something from him. More to the point, there was only one commodity he might possess that the people in this room couldn’t procure e
lsewhere, and that was information.

  “Thanks for making time to meet with us this morning,” said a fleet admiral seated near Browing, plainly dismissing with the courtesy of formal introductions. “We realize it was short notice.”

  “No problem,” Browing assured the man, whose nametag said Lafayette. “Although I’m not sure why I’m here.”

  “We have a few questions about what you observed on the Black Pearl,” stated a statuesque brunette whom Browing recognized as an interstellar senator.

  Browing frowned. “I’m not sure I understand. I – along with everyone else involved – have already been fully debriefed regarding the events on the Pearl.”

  As he spoke, Browing reflected on the crisis that had occurred a few weeks back – when he and a group of Marines he was working with found themselves on the front lines, facing an invading alien armada. Miraculously, with only one ship (and a little help from a bizarre entity known as Efferus), they managed to defeat the invading aliens – an insectoid race known as the Vacra.

  A field marshal named Steiner cleared his throat, snapping Browing out of his reverie. “Ahem. For our current purposes, we’re less concerned about the invasion and more focused on the personnel on the Pearl who responded to it.”

  “Personnel?” Browing repeated quizzically. “You mean Lieutenant Maker’s squad?”

  “Exactly,” stressed Steiner. “We’d like to get your opinion of the lieutenant and his group.”

  Browing frowned. Lieutenant Maker was the commander of the contingent of Marines who had been involved in defeating the Vacra. In fact, despite facing daunting odds, Maker had actually managed to thwart the Vacra twice in the recent past. That said, it wasn’t surprising that senior officers might have questions about him, as the man’s methods were often unorthodox, to say the least, but there were better channels for obtaining that type of information.

  “That still leaves me confused,” Browing admitted. “Ariel Chantrey is one of the best behavioral scientists we have, and she’s done a complete psych profile on Maker and everyone under his command. Assuming you have her report, she’s probably the most appropriate person to direct any questions to regard–”

  “We have Dr. Chantrey’s files,” interjected one of the civilians – a handsome blonde woman named Goya whom Browing recognized as a political appointee, like himself, but far above his pay grade. “However, there’s concern that her reports might be tainted by” – she took a moment to determine the proper word, then settled on – “bias.”

  Ahhh, Browing thought. So that’s it.

  “Dr. Chantrey is in a personal relationship with Lieutenant Maker, is she not?” asked Lafayette.

  Browing almost laughed. “If you’re suggesting that Dr. Chantrey would allow her professional judgment to be swayed by personal sentiment, I can assure you that you’re wrong. Dead wrong. Anything she’s written will be based on her expert opinion and nothing more. In addition, Maker himself would object if he thought she was doing anything along those lines.”

  “What about the rest of Maker’s team?” asked a Star Forces general named Grasso.

  A look of bewilderment crossed Browing’s face. “Excuse me?”

  “Would those serving under the lieutenant also be adverse to receiving favorable treatment?” Grasso clarified.

  Browing reflected for a moment, then stated, “There’s an old military saying: the leader sets the tone.”

  “So you’re saying his people wouldn’t expect special consideration, either,” Steiner concluded. “Does that include Master Sergeant Adames?”

  “Adames is Maker’s right-hand man,” Browing replied. “They tend to think alike, so I’d say ‘Yes.’”

  Steiner gave him a hard-nosed stare. “So does that mean Maker is a scoundrel as well? I mean, that’s how you described Adames in one of your reports, where you highlight the fact that he’s twice been demoted from chief master sergeant.”

  Browing frowned. Adames hailed from a family of smugglers, and as a result had individual skills and personal contacts that caused Maker to label him as an “acquisitions specialist.” In short, there was little that the man couldn’t procure (although occasionally he did so by questionable means). That aside – and despite the demotions – he was a first-rate NCO (non-commissioned officer), an experienced veteran, and a reliable sounding board.

  “You’re probably referring to my initial evaluation,” Browing noted. “If so, then I have to admit that my early assessment of Adames was probably overly harsh and gave more weight to the man’s background than was warranted.”

  Steiner responded to this information with an unimpressed grunt, but otherwise didn’t comment.

  “Well, at least he’s mentally stable,” chimed in the senator while looking at her p-comp. The way her eyes scanned from left to right, she was obviously reading something on the palm-sized computer. “The same can’t be said of this mind reader – Isis Diviana.”

  “Sergeant Diviana doesn’t read minds,” Browing corrected. “She senses thoughts.”

  The senator raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “The difference being…?”

  “I believe Diviana likens it to being inside somewhere but hearing someone speaking outside,” Browing replied. “You can hear them, but can’t make out what they’re saying.”

  “So, in your opinion, she’s fully recovered from this breakdown she suffered?” the senator continued.

  Browing fought to keep his face impassive. Prior to joining Maker’s team, Diviana had been an intel agent and then part of a special ops group. She had been mentally connected to other members of her unit when they had been killed on a mission. As a result, she had felt each of their deaths intimately. In his opinion, it was more than most people would have been able to bear, and the senator’s attitude seemed to trivialize what Diviana had gone through. However, he felt it prudent to keep those thoughts to himself.

  “As far as I can tell, Sergeant Diviana has fully recovered,” Browing stated truthfully. “She’s as competent as she was when she worked in the Intel and Special Ops divisions – if not more so.”

  “Moving on,” said Goya. “What about this Edison Wayne? Is he done trying to kill his fellow soldiers?”

  “That was an accident,” Browing shot back almost defensively.

  “An accident?” Goya echoed, plainly skeptical. “He built a booby trap that sent another member of his squad to the infirmary in critical condition.”

  “It was actually an anti-theft device intended to discourage some ongoing larceny,” Browing corrected. “In short, the ‘victim’ – who fully recovered from the incident – was a criminal, and any harm he suffered he brought upon himself.”

  “Still, this Wayne sounds like a menace,” Goya declared.

  Browing shook his head in disagreement. “On the contrary, he’s an asset – a technological whiz and an engineering genius. Give him a bit of metal and some wires and he can build almost anything. From the standpoint of sheer ingenuity, he’s without peer.”

  “So the fellow has some redeeming value,” Lafayette concluded, then glanced at his p-comp. “What about these other two: Cano Snick – who sounds like an oafish brawler – and this blind woman, Luna Loyola?”

  “Actually, Snick is a quiet man given to introspection and meditation,” Browing stated. “As you all know, we live in a time when humanity is greatly fractured in terms of mores and manners. Snick grew up in a society where martial skill is not only prized, but determines your station in life. That being the case, he was trained in martial arts almost from the moment he drew breath. As a result, he’s probably one of the best hand-to-hand combatants you’ll ever meet.”

  “As to Loyola,” he continued, “she’s technically blind, as you said – lost her eyes in an accident. However, she’s able to see through the use of synthetic oculi and advanced optics technology.”

  “So she’s got no eyes,” Lafayette proclaimed. “And she operates as a sniper?”

  “With or wi
thout eyes, there’s no one more accurate with a gun,” Browing commented. “You’d be hard-pressed to find her equal – male or female – in any branch of the service.”

  There was silence for a few seconds as Browing’s words seemed to sink in, and he took the opportunity to once again scrutinize those seated with him. Not everyone was asking questions, but he didn’t take that to mean that the others were disinterested or indifferent. In truth, it was quite the opposite; they all seemed captivated by the discussion taking place, although he’d done nothing more than state information they all had at their fingertips.

  “Moving on,” Steiner said, interrupting Browing’s thoughts, “I’d like to talk about the Augman in Maker’s group.”

  “He goes by the name Fierce,” Browing offered. “He’s the team doctor.”

  “It’s odd enough having an Augmented Man in the military, but reports have surfaced that he actually participated in combat,” Steiner stated, almost gushing. “I don’t have to tell you what that’s worth if it’s true. It could change the entire complexion of humanity’s armed forces.”

  Browing nodded in understanding. Augmen were genetically engineered super-soldiers, created to be the finest fighting force mankind had ever produced. With strength, speed, and stamina well beyond that of ordinary human beings, they should have been the backbone of mankind’s military. However, instead of being feared combatants, some design flaw had resulted in Augmen being pacifists. They were doves rather than hawks, rejecting war and violence in all forms.

  A soft cough from someone near him brought Browing back to himself.

  “Reports of Fierce fighting are exaggerated,” he attested.

  “So you’re saying he’s as worthless as any other Augman in combat,” Steiner concluded.

  Browing contemplated his response for a moment, then said, “There’s a perception that Augmen are useless in war because of their nonviolent nature, but that’s completely untrue. Their presence during a skirmish can be incredibly beneficial, even if all they’re doing is carrying wounded men off the battlefield.”

  “If you can get an Augman to do even that much, it’s practically an evolutionary leap forward,” Steiner opined.

 

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