by T. C. Edge
“Well…don’t keep us in suspense, dear boy,” says Professor Lane sharply. “What do you know?”
“I saw it…well, I think I saw it,” I say, my mind jumping ahead. “When we left Petram with Link in the medical plane a few weeks ago, Athena gave me a pair of telescopic goggles. I was just playing around with them, you know, looking down on the lands and stuff as we flew. I remember…when we passed over the skeleton of Knight’s Wall, there was a section still being dismantled. At least, that’s what it appeared like…”
“But the wall is still being taken down in places,” says Jackson.
“I know…but this was near where we found Link. And, I remember seeing the glint of a weapon. Someone down there was carrying a gun. I didn’t think anything of it then, but now it makes so much sense. Without those goggles, I never would have seen it. It’s as if Athena knew…”
“Do you remember where it was?” asks Jackson. “I mean, exactly where it was. It’s hard to determine from that height…”
“Oh…I think I remember,” I say, smiling.
They both look at me quizzically.
“It was at the base of The Titan’s Hand.”
It’s a place that needs no explanation. Immediately, both of them begin to nod, the pieces quickly coming together.
“Yes…yes that must be it,” says Professor Lane. “Trust these men to build a base beneath such a striking monument…”
“And it’s smart, too,” adds Jackson quickly. “That rock formation is never visited. The people still have some strange superstitions about it, and it’s extremely remote, and yet still fairly centrally located within the country. From that point, you could quickly strike out at the regions or the Deadlands, whatever takes your fancy.”
“Well done, young man,” says Professor Lane. “And trust Athena to have given you those goggles. She’s got wonderful foresight, that one.”
“Just like Drake,” I say. “He knew things were going down at the Watcher Wars. That’s how we found the file in the first place. And it’s where we sighted the Baron, and Lord Kendrik too.”
“Well, if your grandfather is alive, that’s where he’ll be,” says Professor Lane, pointing a crinkly old finger at the schematic. “How will you proceed?” she asks Jackson.
“With caution,” he says. “I don’t want this going any further than the three of us for now.”
“But what about Athena?” I ask. “She could be there in no time. If Drake’s alive we need…”
“No, son,” he says, cutting me off. “If this place is really ground zero for these people, then Athena and her Watchers will not be enough. We’ll need to gather our full strength to stand any chance at all, and form a watertight plan to make our assault. That takes time. If Athena finds out, she’ll go straight in. She’s powerful, yes, but she isn’t a strategist, and she’s got a reckless streak that refuses to die. This must stay between us, understand?”
“Yes, sir,” I say.
“Of course,” says Professor Lane. “Who would I have to tell anyway?” she adds with a smile.
“Well, it might just slip out,” says Jackson. “Now, back to what I was saying before, Winifred.” He leans in closer. “We’re planning on leaving soon. There’s something not right about this place, and we’re doing no good here twiddling our thumbs. We need to get out there and take action…and I suggest you come with us.”
“Yes, I thought that might be the case. I’m not surprised, really. But I consider my place to be here. I’ve become part of the furniture in this lab. It’s all I know, really…”
“Ah, that isn’t true, Professor,” says Jackson. “You lived on the Deadlands for quite some time. Have you never thought about returning?”
“On occasion. I do miss the high valleys sometimes, and the mountain air of Petram,” she says wistfully. “It can get terribly stuffy down here.”
“Then come with us,” says Jackson again. “And continue your good work elsewhere.”
“I suppose I could. Nothing would stop me from returning, if that’s what I wanted. I’ll think about it, dear boy. There may yet be more secrets to uncover in the file.”
“That’s all we can ask,” says Jackson with a smile. “But I urge you to think quickly. I get the feeling that things are about to move fast.”
Before we leave, my father gives the old Professor a hug. It’s a reminder for me just how much she’s helped him over the years. Not just now, with this file, but with his bionic arm, and with my mother’s medication. She’s done some wonderful things, and continues to be of great use.
“Be safe, Winifred,” he says to her, kissing her gently on her wrinkled cheek. “I’ll see you again soon.”
“It’s you, Jackson, who needs to be safe out there,” comes her retort. “I know what you’re facing. Please, don’t put yourself in any unnecessary danger.”
“Me? I wouldn’t dream of it,” he says with a rare, impish grin. “Now get packing,” he says as he guides me towards the door. “We’ll take a walk up in the mountains when all this is over…”
With that, we walk through the security door and out of the lab, back into the long, quiet corridor towards the lifts. It’s growing late now, most of the other labs closing down for the night.
“It’s funny,” I say, “how life seems to go on, even under all this shadow.”
“What else can we do?” he asks. “We can’t let fear change us, son. We have no choice but to go on.”
“I guess. Was it the same during the war?”
“There are similarities, for sure. But back then it was very widespread. It all started small, like pebbles that start an avalanche. Soon enough, though, all the regions were sucked into it. When that happened, life stopped for almost everyone. The country stopped functioning.”
“Maybe the same thing will happen again,” I say, thinking once more of the enemy soldiers, of the burning city. “The only difference now is that we’re the ones occupying Eden. We’re the ones in power. I guess that can easily change…”
“I’m afraid that’s the nature of the world. Empires rise and fall. Kings and rulers lay waste to the lands, only to rebuild them for themselves and their subjects. Humankind is constantly fighting over territory and power. This is just the latest chapter in that endless book. And I’m sure there will be many more.”
“That’s actually a kinda comforting way of looking at it,” I say, shrugging. “It makes you think that you’re not that important. That your entire life will just be a blip and nothing more…”
“In the grand scheme of things, yes,” says my father, stopping me as we walk. “But your life means everything to me. And it means everything to your mother. And your friends, and everyone who cares about you. It’s the same for us all. And that’s why we fight. It doesn’t matter if no one remembers us in a hundred years time. What matters is now. This is our time, and we are going to make the most of it.”
He holds me firm for a second, his hands on my arms, before turning me back towards the lifts. On we walk, strolling casually despite everything, talking of the wider world and our place within it.
“It’s strange to think,” I say, “how my whole life has been so quiet, just living in those woods. And now, here I am, right in the middle of all this. I think, sometimes, that I brought this on us. I wished for this, dad, for something big to happen. For some crazy adventure. But this is real life. I feel like I was a kid back then…I know it sounds weird, because that was only months ago, but I feel like I’ve changed.”
“You have changed,” he says immediately. “I see it daily, you growing into more of a man, and Ajax too. And you can’t blame yourself for wanting adventure. All young men do. It’s a rite of passage and only natural. All of this would have happened anyway, always remember that. Think of it like this: maybe it’s fate that the two of you fought to unleash your powers. It might just save us all…”
We reach the lifts, and step inside, the metal box swiftly shooting up towards the deck. When
we step out, the streets beyond the perimeter wall are starting to clear. Here and there, people continue to return home from work, some looking exhausted, others with more of a spring in their step. But across all the faces I see, there’s a growing calmness and relaxation. Clearly, President Alber has done well to soothe their concerns, loosening up the grip of fear that’s bound this city for so many weeks.
I wonder how many of them know what’s really coming. Maybe none truly do. Here, on this seemingly impenetrable fortress in the ocean, the people are burying their heads deep in the sand once more, their collective ignorance rebuilding.
They think this place is safe? They really have no idea.
But, in the end, maybe that’s best. Because there’s a limit to how much fear people can take and still go on. If they really knew the threat that was out there, this place would shut down, and the people would do nothing but hide in the homes, waiting for the heroes to rise.
And as we walk, my eyes lift up, and I see one of those heroes, standing in the middle of the street. Her blonde hair flows from side to side as she looks in all directions. Her blue eyes are wide and wild, searching for something. Searching for us.
When we she sees us, she immediately comes running, pacing as fast as her legs can take her. My heart bolts from my chest at the sight, her words tumbling from her mouth as she runs.
“New Atlantis,” she shouts, breathing hard.
She grinds to a stop in front of us, and takes a moment to catch her breath. Then she fixes her eyes on her husband, and says again.
“New Atlantis…they’re about to attack New Atlantis!”
20
Battle Begins
My mother’s eyes are manic, bright blue and shining in the fading light of the city. She stares at my father, and repeats her words again.
“They’re about to attack New Atlantis!”
“Are you sure?” he asks quickly.
“Jack, I’m certain. I just saw it now…I recognised an old building. It’s coming at any moment. We have to act!”
“Right…come on, follow me!”
My parents turn and begin running straight through the streets as I follow in behind. Ahead, the Senate building looms, in the distance beyond the main city square. People watch us as we dash past them, eating at little restaurants or strolling casually through the open courtyard. Soon they’ll know that the world isn’t yet safe. Once more, fear is going to grip tight at this place.
We take no notice of their stares and whispers, our eyes set on the building ahead. Outside, the many soldiers that guard it allow us quick passage through the archway, Jackson shouting for them to open the doors and let us through. They do so without hesitation.
Inside, my parents continue straight up towards the stairs ahead. Reaching the top, my father’s hand begins banging loudly on the large double doors to the residence we have recently vacated. A few moments later, the door opens, and Leeta’s face appears.
“Jackson…Cyra…what’s going on?”
“We need to speak with President Alber urgently,” says my father.
“I believe he’s eating his dinner…” says Leeta.
Jackson steps right past her, his eyes turning towards the rear of the house where the main dining room is situated. Unlike our time here, where we chose to dine in the kitchen, President Alber is sure to use one of the more stately rooms of the house. Jackson knows that all too well.
“Jackson…you can’t,” says Leeta as we pass. Getting no reaction, she turns to my mother. “Cyra…what’s happening?!”
My mother has the same tunnel vision as my father, following him right in. Only I stop to briefly inform Leeta as to what’s going on.
“Mum knows where the attack’s coming from,” I say quickly.
“Where?!” she asks, eyes widening with worry.
“New Atlantis. We need to warn the people and get troops there immediately…”
I continue on, leaving Leeta behind, and rush to catch up with my parents. Through the palatial residence we go, down long corridors and through large halls until we reach the back. Without knocking, Jackson storms through a door and into a grand dining room. Sat alone at a solid wooden table is President Alber, his eyes rising in confusion at the sudden interruption.
“Governor Kane,” he says, a glass of wine clasped between his fingers. “What is the meaning of this?!”
“Sir, we have confirmation that an attack is about to take place in New Atlantis. I urge you to send troops there immediately.”
He plants the wine glass to the table.
“What confirmation do you have?” he asks. “I have heard nothing…”
Cyra steps forward.
“I have confirmed the location in a vision, President Alber,” she says, trying to stay as respectful as possible. “We’ve been searching for details for weeks, but now I am sure – New Atlantis is the target.”
The President lifts his wine back to his lips and shakes his head.
“Mrs Drayton, I’ve heard enough about these visions that you and your group seen to have. I will not go sending troops to New Atlantis, and risk causing a panic on a hunch…”
“Sir, I can assure you this is more than just a hunch. You must be aware of the abilities we Watchers possess?” says Cyra calmly.
He doesn’t appear to have an answer. I watch him, my anger brewing, as he sits back and considers things a moment.
“And how do you know that this so-called vision of yours is real? It could very well be a dream and nothing more. I’m afraid I cannot act until I have definitive proof…”
“Mr President, once you have definitive proof it will already be too late,” says Jackson. “We have to act now, or many lives will be lost. Please, I urge you to see reason.”
“Governor, I appreciate that you support your wife on this matter. But this country isn’t run on visions and hocus pocus. That is not how my office is going to operate. Now, please…let me enjoy my dinner in peace.”
Standing behind my parents, I see them looking at each other, a fury raging behind both of their eyes. But neither of them act upon it, both of them maintaining their composure. In the end, they don’t need to.
Because from behind, a fresh set of footsteps comes clattering down the corridor. We all turn to see Leeta catching up with us. In her hand, she holds a small communicator.
“Sir, you have an urgent call…” she says, rushing in, her eyes haunted.
Alber lets out a noise of exasperation and takes the device. He lifts it to his ear, and on the other end we can hear the scratchy voice of a man shouting.
“Hello…” says the President. “Who is this?”
“Sir…they’re coming…” comes the tinny voice down the line.
Alber’s eyes raise to ours briefly.
“Confirm. Who is this? Where are you?!”
“Major Benson…sir…they’re coming…”
More static crackles, the sounds of screaming and rushing people filtering down the line. And then, two final words come from the end of the radio.
“….New Atlantis…”
The communicator shuts off, the room falling silent.
Then, in the quiet, Jackson’s voice growls.
“How’s that for confirmation,” he says.
Alber lifts his eyes to us again.
“Go…” he says quietly. “Defend the city.”
Without so much as a word or nod, Jackson spins around and storms quickly out of the room, the rest of us running behind him.
“Cyra, go to the main hangers immediately. Prepare the jets for take off,” he orders, talking as we go. “Theo, go up to the apartment and get Ajax and the girls. Meet me outside as soon as you can.”
“And what about you?” I ask.
“I’m going to gather my strike force. We have no time to wait… now go.”
We split immediately, shooting off in separate directions and leaving Leeta behind, calling for us all to be careful.
I quickly go to
the lifts and click the button for the eighth floor. Seconds later, I’m bursting through the door to find Ajax and the twins sat in the kitchen.
They look at me, panting and wide-eyed.
“Theo…what’s going on?” asks Velia.
“The attack…it’s happening.”
“WHERE!” she shouts.
“New Atlantis. We’re leaving, right now. Get your things.”
They rush to their rooms, returning moments later with their bags. Meanwhile, I fetch the bags prepared by my parents, as well as my own. After this, we don’t intend to be coming back to this city unless we have no other choice.
Within only a minute or two, we’re rushing back out of the apartment and towards the lifts, frantically talking as we go.
“How do we know?” asks Vesuvia. “Did you see it?”
“It was my mother,” I say. “She recognised a specific building in the city…it’s happening right now.”
“What about my mum?” asks Ajax.
“Where is she?” I ask.
“In the hospital with dad,” he says.
“Good. They’ll join us when it’s over. We’re going to stick to the plan. My father is gathering his strike force right now…”
We reach the ground floor and discover that Jackson has been quick to work. Outside the Senate building, a number of soldiers have gathered, with a convoy of military cars awaiting us. Jackson barks orders as they step inside. His eyes turn to us.
“Good, you got the bags. Now get in the cars.”
We pile in as he takes the wheel, snaking through the city at great speed. The streets are gratefully clear, only a few stragglers still out and about. They watch us pass with wailing sirens, knowing that something big must be happening.
Soon enough, we’re exiting the tall skyscrapers and are rushing across the wide open expanse outside of the aircraft hangers. Several of them sit open, figures rushing in and out of them. I peer forward and see Cyra issuing commands, making things ready for a speedy departure.
We come to a quick halt and spill out, the gathering of soldiers quickly sent towards one military jet or another. I count at least a hundred of them, perhaps more, all heavily armed and ready to rock. Taking our things, we move into the central hanger and climb aboard one of the aircraft. It’s bigger and more bulky than any others I’ve been in, a thick shell of armour surrounding it, heavy duty guns and turrets fixed to its flanks.