Harry's Sacrifice

by Bianca D'Arc

  “Starting main engines,” Hara replied, punching in orders on the big console in front of him. He had the command position, which meant he could control almost everything if he wished.

  “Main engines operating at standard levels,” Percival reported. “Clear for lift off.”

  “Let’s get this show on the road,” Hara whispered almost to himself as he input the commands that set the pod into motion.

  Once more, Harry marveled at the fact that these two ancient Alvians had been monitoring humanity for so long and had been able to absorb so much of the language over their years in stasis. How the two had remained sane through such a long captivity, Harry had no idea.

  “Activity at my base camp,” Cormac reported. “No doubt they have noticed the engine startup.”

  “What will they do?” Harry asked, concerned.

  “Investigate,” Cormac answered. “Can we get out of here before they are within the perimeter of danger?” he asked Hara quickly.

  “No. You can communicate with them if I turn off the interference field,” Hara admitted. “Perhaps you can tell them you are the one starting the engines. Tell them you are going to take the pod out and return to the city. That way, air defenses will be aware of our path and think it is you, Cormac.”

  “A good plan. I will try to be convincing. Lower the interference field. I will initiate communication.”

  The plan worked, though Cormac’s men wanted him to set the pod down outside their camp. He was able to convince his second in command that the pod was so old, he was not sure he’d be able to start it up again if he set it down.

  With Liam 24’s endorsement, Cormac declared his intention to try to make for the Northern City. Liam 24 promised to report the flight to the appropriate authorities and clear the way. A few moments later, an escort of small ships flanked the pod, ushering it into the city after a relatively short half-hour flight.

  The pod was part of a space exploration vessel that had been capable of traveling at speeds faster than light. Making a quick hop from the North Pole to the middle of what had been North America was relatively easy by comparison.

  Cormac maintained communication with the honor guard of ships around them and pretended to be in control of the pod. He claimed Harry and Roshin were helping him fly the vehicle and reported them to be in good health after the days of confinement inside the pod.

  When the time came to make for a particular landing strip, Cormac was surprised when the honor guard directed him to land at the exact platform Hara had chosen. Apparently, the Council wanted to control this piece of ancient technology from the moment it landed.

  “This is working out even better than I had expected,” Hara commented as Cormac closed the com so nobody outside the pod would hear the five of them talking on the bridge.

  “The Council can’t resist your technology,” Roshin said, surprising Cormac with her observation. She was so quiet sometimes he didn’t realize she observed all and made astute conclusions from what she saw. “I have been sitting in Council meetings for a while now and they are hard pressed to make any new advancement in technological fields. They have been discussing it as a real and difficult problem. The lack of innovation has been noted, but they don’t yet realize why it has happened,” she went on. “This pod would represent an opportunity to reverse-engineer cutting-edge tech from ancient Alvia and would probably keep our civilization going for a while longer without making any new innovations of our own.”

  Silence reigned for a moment as everyone realized once again how far the Alvian race had fallen in the years since tinkering with their genetic code had begun in earnest. Hara maneuvered the craft, flying it over the city as the modern military ships escorted them. A fitting honor guard, Cormac thought, though they knew it not.

  “Most of the city is getting a nice view of our arrival,” Percival observed, breaking the silence. “The Council will not be able to keep this discovery quiet.”

  “They will likely try to minimize it if they wish to remain in power,” Harry warned. “They won’t easily relinquish control to you.”

  Cormac didn’t have the intimate knowledge of either this city or the Council that Harry, and especially Roshin, did. Cormac’s normal work schedule kept him out in the field much of the time and his residence was split between a small berth in the barracks here in the Northern City and a larger space set aside for him in his assigned sector, which was to the south of the city.

  “You expect treachery? I didn’t think modern Alvians were truly capable of it,” Hara asked, his eyes narrowed. “Roshin, what is your take?”

  “Modern Alvians are very capable of treachery but lack the motivations of centuries past. Therefore, it is less common, but even without emotion, people still like to get their way and make their own lives more comfortable—even at the expense of others. That has not gone away, even if things like glee over victory and satisfaction for rising above enemies has.” She had apparently given deep thought to this topic and Cormac listened to her analysis with interest. “Having observed the Council firsthand, I can surmise that about half the Councilors will welcome your presence. A few will openly oppose and might even wish to do you harm. The remaining will wait to see which way the wind blows before committing. You will find no help from them until you are seen to be the victor.”

  Hara was silent a moment, appearing to think deeply about Roshin’s words.

  “We will have to be on our guard,” Percival finally spoke up, drawing attention. “But that is nothing new for us. We’ve been in worse situations, haven’t we?” Percival looked at Hara and the ancient ones shared a smile that grew into laughter. Cormac would love to hear some of their tales of ancient times, but that was for another day. They first had to get through the ordeal of revelation ahead.

  All this time, they had been drawing closer to the Council landing area. Hara put the pod down with a light touch and began shutting down the engines and other systems. Cormac noticed he locked almost every system. Should he and Percival somehow fall, it would be very hard for modern Alvians to get into the systems—if it could be done at all.

  “Cormac,” Hara requested his attention as everyone began to stand and make for the exit. “I want you to go down the ramp first. Then Harry and Roshin. Percy and I will make our entrance last.”

  “A good plan that is both theatrical and cautious,” Cormac observed, offering a grin that was returned in full measure. As time went on, Cormac was learning how to deal with emotion better and found amusement one of the most joyful and easier emotions to deal with. He found he liked to laugh—especially at a shared joke that made him feel companionship with others.

  They all went to the exit and Percival activated the ramp that would allow them to exit. Cormac was positioned in front of the portal and he could see members of the Council and their guards already forming a welcoming party near the edge of the landing platform.

  “They are gathering,” he reported back to the others. Hara and Percival were staying out of sight for now, sticking close to walls on either side of the portal.

  “Every member of the Council has come to see the pod,” Roshin observed. “Most of their staff members too. And Councilor Markus has activated floating recorders. At least five of them that seem to be recording from every angle.”

  “If they give us problems, we can leak some of those images,” Percival thought out loud. Cormac had been thinking the same thing, planning for all contingencies—including the likelihood that Hara and Percival would be arrested and sequestered immediately upon discovery.

  “I will tune in to the feed and send copies of all the recordings to my personal storage,” Roshin replied, already tapping on her data pad. It hadn’t been useful until Hara had disengaged the dampening field, but since then it had regained all its former functionality and Cormac knew Roshin had been recording everything for posterity.

  “The ramp is fully extended,” Harry reported. “The Council is moving cautiously closer. I think it�
�s show time.”

  Cormac had only heard that expression a few times before, but he knew what it meant. It was time to start the action. Taking a deep breath, Cormac was careful to maintain an emotionless expression. Nobody could know he’d taken the drug. Not yet. He started down the ramp, trying to cultivate the attitude that would have been so natural to him only a few days ago.

  A lot had happened to him in a short time. His life had changed forever in what seemed to be the blink of an eye. And now it was time to meet his destiny.

  What came next unfolded just as Hara and Percival had hoped. Cormac reached the bottom of the ramp first, followed closely by Harry and Roshin. A few of the councilors met them and began to speak, but Cormac forestalled their questions by holding up one hand. Harry admired the way he handled them with silent authority.

  “Councilors, I have much to report, but first, I think you need to see exactly what we discovered when Harry led us into this ship.”

  Eyes turned to Harry, standing behind Cormac, and he in turn deliberately swiveled his body so that he faced the top of the ramp. He moved to one side so the councilors’ view from the ground would be unobstructed.

  Hara appeared, pausing at the top of the ramp when a hush fell over the milling crowd.

  “Councilors, I present to you, my ancestor, Hara Prime, and his companion, Percival Prime,” Harry announced theatrically.

  The councilors blinked. Repeatedly. As if they couldn’t process the idea that two of the ancient Alvian exploration party had survived all these years.

  And then they began to kneel. One first, then by twos and threes, the Alvians gathered all around the ancient ship, lowered to one knee in the ultimate sign of respect. It was a gesture that hadn’t been made in recent memory but was preserved in the legends of old. Legends of the time from which the two men at the top of the ramp had come.

  Chapter Eleven

  Floating recorders were switched from simply recording to outright broadcasting. Every Alvian with a datapad or screen on the planet was being fed the live action as Hara and Percival descended the ramp. Ronin Prime, hidden just behind the door to the landing area, smiled as he confirmed his operatives had done their jobs.

  He tucked his own datapad back into his robes. As he did so, he unfastened the closures that held his nondescript outer robe in place to reveal the much more formal garments hidden beneath. Today was a day for revelation…and revolution.

  Ronin Prime stepped through the doorway to the landing platform. There was a hush over the entire area and everyone was kneeling before the five gathered on the ramp. Everyone but Ronin.

  He strode forward, picking his way lightly—and without obvious difficulty—through the kneeling throng. He knew the transmitting bots recorded his every move. There were more than enough dispersed throughout the area to capture this historic moment from every angle. It was time the Alvian population learned of the secrets the Council had been keeping from them.

  Ronin strode up to the trio who stood on the ground at the base of the ramp.

  “Harry, son of Justin O’Hara and Mara 12, you have done both your people proud this day. Thank you for unlocking the ship and freeing your ancestor.” Ronin was aware of the Councilors shifting behind him. One or two of them might try to object, but they seemed too dumbstruck to speak, which was to Ronin’s advantage.

  “You’re welcome,” Harry answered politely, then stepped aside as Roshin touched his back.

  “Roshin, daughter, you have fulfilled your destiny better than any of us could have imagined, and I am proud of your efforts on your people’s behalf.”

  “Thank you, Patriarch.” Roshin bowed her head slightly in respect as she acknowledged him and then stepped aside.

  Which left only Cormac—the unexpected quantity—blocking Ronin’s path to the two ancients who stood slightly higher than everyone else on the lower end of the ramp leading to their ship. Ronin needed to find the right words to placate the warrior-scientist, but Cormac preempted him.

  “Why do you call Roshin daughter? She is Alvian. We can claim no parents,” Cormac asked with a hint of anger. Ronin had to hold back a smile of satisfaction. The young warrior had taken the cure and emotion was beginning to show. Ronin was pleased.

  “All members of the Brotherhood are my sons and daughters,” he answered simply. He heard hushed murmurs from the kneeling people behind him, but nobody dared speak louder than a whisper.

  “As it should be, Patriarch,” Hara spoke for the first time, moving down the ramp and placing one hand on Cormac’s shoulder.

  Cormac moved out of the way, still clearly skeptical but willing to take orders from Hara Prime. And what Alvian wouldn’t be willing to take orders from the ancient savior of their race? Ronin did smile this time, unable to hold back his satisfaction as he greeted the ancient.

  As Hara stood before him, Ronin Prime did something no Zxerah Patriarch had done in a thousand years. He went to one knee before Hara Prime, taking the ceremonial, but very deadly, blade he’d worn at his side out of the scabbard and offering it, blade flat across both his palms, to Hara. It was the ultimate sign of respect, and a clear pledge of fealty.

  “The Zxerah Brotherhood has hidden for many generations, but we can hide no more. Your return to us was foretold as the time when balance would be restored to our race. We have long worked toward this day, when we begin the next evolution of Alvians here on Earth. We can only hope you will allow myself and those of my Brotherhood to assist you in this great work.”

  “But don’t you work for the Council? Is this not a breach of your pledge to them?” Percival spoke for the first time from Hara’s side.

  “No Patriarch has offered fealty to anyone in centuries. Not since Ronin Starchaser did as I do, offering my blade and my allegiance to you, Hara.”

  Hara looked at him, brow quirked in what seemed like amusement before he took the blade.

  “I accepted your predecessor’s oath, Patriarch, and counted him a good friend and valued colleague through many adventures. But I left him behind when we went on our last mission,” Hara said as he regarded the blade. “In fact, this is the very blade he carried. I recognize it well from the many times he and I fought side-by-side for our people. I welcome the chance to get to know you and your Brotherhood, Patriarch, and I thank you for the gesture.”

  Hara handed the blade back, hilt first. Ronin’s pledge had been accepted.

  He rose. “I am Ronin, and these are some of my people…”

  He held up his hands in a prearranged signal, and three of the winged Brethren descended into the landing area, flying in, displaying their wings for all to see. Behind them entered three Alvians, each accompanied by a human member of the Brotherhood. Each had been carefully chosen. Not only would they no longer have anonymity after this day, but they also had to represent their Brethren to the best of their ability. Ronin signaled the one member of each representative group forward. The Alvians, who remained kneeling all around them, watched with deep interest.

  “May I present a representative from each branch of the Brotherhood. First, the pure Alvians, who have remained true to our order for many generations. This is Blevin.” The Alvian made his bow before Hara and then moved away to stand on the small but deliberate perimeter they had formed around the ancients. “And this is Eve, one of the humans we adopted into our group. She has a powerful gift of foresight.”

  “There are human Zxerah now?” Percival mused. “How very progressive of you.” Ronin perceived the tone of irony in the ancient’s voice.

  The human woman made a graceful bow and went back to her place in the protective ring. Then one of the winged Brethren took her place.

  “This is Sinclair Prime. His people are a genetic experiment formed by crossing Alvian with Avarel DNA.” Murmurs increased as Sinclair Prime unfurled his wings and displayed their mighty span for inspection.

  “Impressive, sir,” Hara said. “And may I say, with such advantages, I’m glad you’re on our side.�
� His smile was engaging and Ronin appreciated the attempt at humor.

  “Their existence has been a secret until now, as has the continued survival of our Brotherhood,” Ronin said as the winged warrior fell back. “We come out of hiding now, as you do, to promote honesty and truth among our people. For too long, the Alvians now inhabiting Earth have been kept in the dark and even lied to in some cases. This is not our way. We come forward now to help promote a return to the old ways of transparency and truth in our society, starting here and now.”

  “Well spoken, Patriarch,” Hara agreed, moving forward to take the center spot. Ronin fell back to the protective perimeter, as did the trio who had come with Hara aboard his ship.

  Only Percival remained at the side, slightly behind his leader, who continued to speak. “For too long have I watched the Alvian conquest of Earth. When I first came here, it was true the civilization was primitive at best. Still, it was worth preserving. Humans are more than you think. I stayed here because this was the world I wanted to be the next Alvian homeworld. The other colony worlds we charted were nice, but on this one I believed we would find the answer to our race’s problems with anger and hostility. And I was right. I conducted experiments. I lived here among the primitives and had children. And they were more capable than either of our races was alone. The abilities of Harry and those like him should prove that to you all beyond doubt. The abilities of those humans who survived our barbaric attack on a highly developed civilization should have alerted you to the fact that those with psychic abilities all seem to have something in common—diluted Alvian DNA in their genetic code. They are hybrids, descended many times over from my crew.”

  At this statement, the kneeling crowd began to murmur again. Mostly exclamations of surprise and a few of dismay.

  “I and my crew knew what was coming. My own son, Merlin, told me of his visions of what would happen far into the future here on Earth. For that reason, many of us chose to enter stasis chambers in pods like this one, all around this planet. Some perished during the long sleep, like our dear friend, Dugan.” Hara’s face grew solemn for a moment. “Many still sleep. It will be my mission to free them.”