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Shadows Bear No Names (The Blackened Prophecy Book 1)

Page 14

by Oganalp Canatan


  “Toast sounds better. Dramatic.”

  “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Ray shook his head in disbelief.

  “If you bump into anyone act as if everything is normal,” Brother Cavil added. “If they ask where you are going, tell them you are to pilot Grandmaster Ellok to the crash site.”

  The Bunarian security protocol really needed a complete overhaul in Ray’s book; they were basically walking around and about to steal a shuttle without anyone noticing. “You people really need a new security chief.”

  “There are still thousands of people missing and the police force has a disaster to manage.”

  Ray sensed the sincere sadness in Brother Cavil’s voice and avoided any more sarcasm. No matter how disconnected he was from their daily affairs, the old man felt guilty for not being there to help the ones in need. Now of course, the Council wouldn’t let Brother Cavil anywhere near the crash site, not after harboring and aiding a criminal suspect. Or a mass murderer.

  “The chaos is our veil,” Brother Cavil concluded. “I will try and move any remaining guards away from the hangar.”

  “No invisible guards here?”

  “We paint them as trees, better disguise out in the open,” the old man giggled at his own words.

  “Ah, another joke.” Ray was getting used to being shot at by zombified crew members, crashing on planets, and visited by statues coming to life, but ‘Guards coming out of the walls’ was still a relatively new concept, no matter how much holographic technology had integrated into daily life. Not the hologram, I wasn’t expecting it on Bunari, he admitted it to himself.

  “Take this, son.” Brother Cavil removed his necklace, a torch-shaped silver ornament. “This will open the shuttle doors,” he explained while Ray inspected the key. The old man patted Ray’s shoulder and smiled. “Good luck.” His eyes left no room for doubt; he meant every word wholeheartedly. Brother Cavil turned and rushed toward the control tower.

  ***

  Revan stopped at the entrance of the long hallway and considered his options; if he were on the run, he would seek means to escape the planet as quickly as possible. He’d seen the blast zone of the Canaar’s crash, a total mess. A crater sat where the spaceport once was, and off-world travel had been limited to ships with special permission from the Elder Council. In the last week, Revan’s ship was the only one given permission to land. Of course, Revan hadn’t needed any permission when he first arrived on Bunari. With the help of his gunship’s radar cloak, no one knew he’d been on the planet long before Revan announced his official arrival.

  Unless the two decided to hide in the woods, their only other option was the taxi shuttles hovering around the city. Revan rolled up his left sleeve and touched a small blue dot on his bracelet. A holographic map of the compound appeared before him.

  There, his eyes located the shuttle park icon. The terminal was at the far end of the campus, right in the middle of Elder residences. Cavil wouldn’t risk dwelling within the main compound too much. He needed the disguise, the silence.

  Revan raised his head from the map and looked through one of the nearby windows, watching the buzzing air traffic over the crash site in the distance. The cooling and extinguishing process was over but the dense smoke cloud still hovered over the city like a daunting nightmare. He grimaced, trying not to think of the death toll. Too many innocents. He turned his focus back to the task at hand. According to the map, he was a few hundred meters from the hangar and Revan didn’t hear any shuttle taking off. He still had time.

  The quiet humming of the muscle-enhancement module was the only sound that broke the silence of the night as Revan ran toward the landing pad with inhuman speed.

  ***

  “All right.” Ray looked over one of the smaller craft, a four-seat taxi with a dark cherry color. It was meant to be used on-planet, but after a short inspection, Ray concluded the thing could take them into space if need be. These models were designed to carry VIPs to and from orbiting luxury yachts and Ray thanked the Light for letting his followers buy some without too much religious mumbo-jumbo. Light is a he, right?

  Ray checked the hangar one more time. He’d only bumped into one technician on his way to the shuttles. The middle-aged guy hadn’t paid much attention to Ray. Poor guy was deep in thought, his eyes tired and red, the bags beneath them as dark as dusk. His clothes were covered in motor oil. The mechanic had probably missed a few nights’ sleep, and Ray didn’t think the guy even heard him tell Brother Cavil’s pre-arranged story. The guy simply told Ray to take one of the shuttles at the far end, as the first three still needed refueling, and disappeared into one of the rooms at the end of the workshop, yawning loudly.

  The hangar was dead silent except for the low humming of machinery. Scattered tools around the floor, cables and pipes connected to the shuttles, and half-eaten rations on the desks suggested a heavy, disorganized workload. It looked as if everyone had left in a hurry. He removed the necklace the old man had given him and scanned the shuttle door for a lock. Near the doorframe he found a small, square, magnetic reader no bigger than his thumbnail. Ray held the torch-shaped pendant in front of the reader and the lock gave a short, confirming beep, followed by the hissing of the door’s hydraulics opening.

  A quick glance into the cabin raised concern. The craft was small, meant for short distances and atmospheric flight. The shuttle didn’t have much space for cargo and it would be quite tiresome to have long journeys on those seats. You’re not buying the thing, he had to remind himself. If they had to leave the planet in this taxi, Ray didn’t think they had much chance to avoid detection.

  He moved toward the front, taking the pilot’s seat. Ray’s concern turned to relief when he saw the flight panels’ familiar design. “No place like home.” He sat in the pilot’s seat. Not a bridge, but it’ll do.

  A few touches on the console started the engines, and Ray listened to the low-pitched noise for a moment. It was peaceful. He’d always listened to his ship whenever he was alone on the bridge. It helped him to collect his thoughts; thoughts about the contracts he had, thoughts about the future, and thoughts about his past and family. Memories of ancient times.

  Ray snapped out of his trance. He wasn’t on Canaar and he had a death warrant on his head. He shook his head and gained focus, starting his preflight check. “Fuel… Engines… Atmospheric shielding… Autopilot… Inertial dampener…”

  The flight screen gave a green light for the force field by the time Ray finished his inspection. He grinned at Brother Cavil’s persistence. Everything was going smoothly so far, and the ship was ready to take off.

  It was the smoothness that disturbed Ray. Their plan had flaws on so many levels; they should have been caught by now…

  ***

  Brother Cavil chuckled when he saw the red light on the panel, announcing the force field was down. He checked on the poor technician he’d had to take out with the frying pan he’d found. The guy would be all right, though a terrible headache awaited him when he woke up. However, there was no way for the old priest to collect the scattered eggs. He felt bad for the wasted food. But then, the technician should have been eating in the mess hall and not in the control tower. Brother Cavil made a mental note to bring the matter before the Council next time he attended a hearing. “Sorry,” he mumbled to the man on the floor, and made his way to the exit.

  Then he was flying back into the room, landing hard on his back. The old priest gasped for air, clawing an invisible wall before him as if drowning.

  A hand lifted him up in the air. “Where is Harris?”

  The old man tried to focus, his eyes watering, but the figure slapped him hard, dizzying his perception and giving the old priest a loud ringing in his right ear.

  “Where is Harris!” the attacker’s grip tightened around his neck.

  “I—” Brother Cavil coughed blood on his attacker’s face but the tall figure didn’t flinch. “I would appreciate if you stopped hitting me,” he choked
out.

  The dark figure growled and hurled him like a ragdoll. This time, Brother Cavil landed on the fountain near the food table, breaking a water barrel and splashing the liquid around. He covered his face, expecting another punch but the assassin ignored him and turned his attention to the barrier controls. By the time he was done, the pinkish force field again covered the landing pad like a dome of light.

  Satisfied with his work, the man turned back to face his prey. “Brother Cavil, you are a resourceful man.”

  “Agent Caius.” The old man coughed more blood. “Is that even your real name?”

  “It is,” the dark figure replied. “Now, where is Captain Harris?”

  Gabriel looked the man before him in the eye, meeting his stare. “Why are you doing this?”

  “For reasons beyond your comprehension, Brother.”

  “Try me.”

  Agent Caius towered over Brother Cavil like an angel of death.

  “You are in conflict, are you not?” the old priest said suddenly. “This shell is not of your own skin. I can tell.”

  “And you?” the dark man countered. “You are aiding a criminal in escaping. I believe that is against the Book of Light.”

  “He is innocent,” Brother Cavil argued, “but you already know that, right?”

  Agent Caius didn’t say anything.

  “You do not have to do this, son.”

  The agent gave a bitter smile, and took his pistol from his coat. “Do not talk like a condescending preacher, Brother. It does not fit your character.”

  Brother Cavil nodded. “I am too old for that, anyway.”

  Agent Caius saluted him with honest respect, “I am sorry old man, but my reasons are my own.”

  The old priest closed his eyes, “I hope they are truly yours, son.”

  “What the hell is going on here!” an unfamiliar voice interrupted, “Who are you?”

  Brother Cavil opened his eyes in surprise. It was the guard they’d encountered earlier, the one called ‘Des’. Unlike the priest, Agent Caius was prepared for the unexpected; he jumped to his left and rolled, firing his gun at the guard in the doorway without hesitation.

  The shot took the guard in the arm but the heavily built man shook away the pain. Ignoring the smoking wound on his biceps, he fired several bolts of light from his ji’ta in return. The shots missed Caius by inches but the chaos gave Brother Cavil the room he needed to make a run for it. He rushed to the nearest window and threw himself to the glass hoping to land down safely.

  “I am too old for this!”

  ***

  Revan saw the old man jump and aimed for Cavil’s head but a heavy slam to his stomach took his breath away and he missed the shot. He jumped back on his feet—letting the pain stop him would be death. The guard fired again, the blast from his ji’ta creating huge sparks that lit the room brightly.

  Another round from the ji’ta illuminated the room and this time, Revan cried out in pain as the blast met his flesh and burnt his calf. Reflexively he burst all his rounds back at the guard, ignoring finesse. Revan was lucky. He managed to place his shots, putting three rounds in the man’s chest. The guard dropped to his knees, looking at his chest in disbelief. He raised his head to say something but his eyes rolled back and he fell on his face instead.

  Revan paid no further attention to the guard. Through the shattered window behind the command console, he saw the old man limping toward one of the shuttles. Revan rushed to the barrier console, hoping to cage his targets by increasing the field strength, but the controls had been fried, hit by a shot from the guard’s ji’ta during the skirmish.

  “Tracker!” He commanded and dashed to the window, his pistol giving a confirming beep and switching the ammunition. Revan aimed at the craft and fired. He took out his wristband and watched in anger as the red taxi flew into the horizon.

  The agent touched his wristband. “Corporal!”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Track the signal frequency I am sending now.” He was panting. “I require extraction.”

  “Aye sir, ETA two minutes.”

  He turned back from the broken window and looked around the control room. The guard Brother Cavil had taken out was still unconscious. He resented what he had to do, but his orders had been clear: no witnesses. He fired two rounds, splattering the poor kid’s brains all over the stone floor. The blame would be on Cavil and Harris.

  His wristband beeped twice, announcing his ride’s arrival. He watched the black, silent gunship land on top of the compound, and left the control room wincing with every step. The old man had beaten him twice now and it was getting on his nerves.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  OH, LIGHT!

  “Are we clear?” the old man asked for the fifth time.

  “I don’t know, this thing is flying junk!” Ray snapped, continuing his quest to make the radar work. “Damn it!” He slapped the screen, trying to motivate it to work.

  “It is a taxi, Raymond. It was not designed for this purpose!” Brother Cavil argued. “Is that a ship?”

  “You tell me!”

  The shuttle cleared the planet but avoiding Agent Caius was going to be a whole different matter. The stunt they’d pulled off back on the planet was a one-time trick and Ray knew luck more than ability had saved their skins.

  “I do not think so,” the priest said, his eyes crazed. “Maybe it was a bird.”

  “Out in space?”

  “Maybe it was a space bird!” Brother Cavil flared back, folding his arms. His cheeks were flushed. “I am growing tired of your negativity, young man.” He mimicked Ray’s voice. “Why has this happened to me? Why is he trying to kill me? Oh, there are no birds in space!”

  “Sorry if you didn’t notice, but I’m passing through a rough patch!” Did he just stick out his tongue?

  “Well, quit your jeering, boy. You pulled me into this mess and I am not complaining!”

  Ray slammed the flight console, “You are complaining!”

  “No, I’m n—”

  A sudden, violent shake and a fire extinguisher at the back of the shuttle came off the cabin wall and covered the floor with foam.

  “See, you broke the cursed thing!” Brother Cavil protested.

  “We were shot!”

  “Oh!” Brother Cavil looked out the cockpit window again, trying to see the attacker. “So it was not a bird!”

  Ray tried to focus on stabilizing the shuttle. The console buzzed with sparks and Ray was dead sure the sound the engines were making wasn’t supposed to happen.

  “I-I do not like that sound, Raymond,” the old man babbled, his arms clutched to his chest. “Did I tell you I hate flying?”

  “Too late for that!” Green beams in straight lines passed, adding a disturbing layer of color to their already tense faces. “Brother, I need options. If we take two more hits like that—”

  Another blast hit the ship, overloading the power generator. The lights on the flight panel shone bright with excess energy. Then one by one, they popped out like cracked eggs in a boiler. They were half drifting, half flying blind with fried instruments and the controls’ response was erratic. “Is there somewhere we can hide?”

  “Like where? We are in space!”

  “Anything!” Ray barked. “A cloud or an asteroid field, anything!” Another green line of light passed them on the left, dawning in the cockpit like a sun.

  “That was close,” the old man mumbled, tightening his seatbelt.

  “Brother!”

  “What? Oh, yes. I mean, no!”

  Ray dug his nails into his palms. “Focus, damn it!”

  “No, I don’t know any place to hide!”

  They were flying toward the small desert moon orbiting Bunari. Ray considered their options. Ditching Agent Caius in a taxi was out of the question. Sooner or later, they’d take another hit and that would be the end of it. If they landed on the moon, they could hope to disappear within the clouds or a canyon. However, there was still the
issue of being several minutes away from their savior, the desert moon Tarra. Ray winced; it was impossible to avoid getting shot down without an opening.

  Ray opened his mouth to announce his plan to land but another blast interrupted him. His eyes flared. “That did it!”

  “What did it?” Brother Cavil asked, his curiosity fueled with fear.

  “You want to fight? I’ll give you a fight!”

  “No, I do not want to fight—” the old man started, but then realized what Ray was about to do. “Oh, Light!”

  ***

  “Sir, the shuttle is slowing down.”

  “I have you now,” Revan whispered and leaned back in his chair, cracking his knuckles. He couldn’t help smiling. “Lock on the target and fire at will.”

  “S-Sir?”

  “What is it, Corporal?”

  “They are turning back.”

  Revan narrowed his eyes and rubbed his chin. His eyes grew wide with sudden realization. “Dive!” he yelled. “Dive! Dive!”

  ***

  Ray smiled in victory, killing the shuttle’s engines and turning back to face the agent’s ship. He watched the black gunship dive fiercely, imagining the deafening sound of their overloading engines, refusing to comply with the pilot’s sudden harsh maneuver. It was a desperate and futile move; the gunship had no chance of moving that fast. As they started their dive, Ray fired up the thrusters, ramming the taxi’s nose to the gunship’s left horizontal stabilizer. The impact skidded the two craft in opposite directions.

  “Did we just—?”

  “Yes, Brother, we did.”

  “And was that our engine I saw flying by?”

  “I believe so, yes.”

  Brother Cavil sighed. “Great. Now we will drift in space forever. And I am stuck here with you.” He searched his pockets. “And I am out of kumat!”

  Ray nodded at the desert moon. “Actually, I believe we’ll pay a visit to that Tarra of yours. If there’s any room left, now would be a good time to tighten your belt some more.”

  The priest looked at Ray in disbelief. “By the Light, is it your habit to crash every time you fly?”

 

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