by Zara Zenia
Jarick
Warriors of Orba
Zara Zenia
Illustrated by
Kasmit Covers
Contents
Mailing List
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
Epilogue
Thank You
Also by Zara Zenia
Preview
Copyright © 2016 by Zara Zenia
All rights reserved.
Cover design © 2016 by Kasmit Covers
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the authors’ imagination.
Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters represented as 18 or over.
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Chapter 1
Madison
The red lights had been flashing for days now but thankfully, the accompanying siren had long been turned off. It was already three hours into my day and I’m only two sips into my coffee. Staring at the screens in front of me, I rubbed at my bleary eyes. I’d been looking at them for so long, the dots were beginning to merge into one. The building was frantic with the anticipation of what the sensors had detected, but instead of subsiding, the excitement had only grown stronger as the week went on.
The Trojan Group, an astronomical research facility situated in the American wilderness, is a company of global significance. Its resources are so large and its exploration of space so significant, that I could scarcely mention I work here without causing jaws to drop. If only they knew how low my position was. Despite my job title, I sometimes felt like little more than a glorified coffee maker—an errand girl whose job is to run around after the men in suits. The only thing that gets me through the day is my love for astronomy and knowing that if I hang in here and work hard, I’ll be at the center of all the action one day.
Growing up there was nothing I loved more than looking up at the stars and imagining who lived out there. As a child there was no debating whether aliens existed or not, I was certain they did and it was only a matter of time until I would meet one. I thought when I grew up there would be grays walking down High Street, reptilian shapeshifting children in our schools and little green men working at our checkouts. Of course my dreams never became a reality but I still have the hope that someday, I’ll be able to meet face-to-face with an extra-terrestrial.
I began to think of my mother as I sat at my desk. I wish she was here to see all of this so she could finally believe me and all the ambitions I’d had as a child. I vividly remember making toy spaceships out of discarded cereal boxes. There’d be washed up liquid rockets and parachutes made from napkins strewn all over the back yard. There was no end to the fun and on hot summer nights, I’d often be running around pretending I was a real scientist.
“You do know that girls can’t be scientists!” my mother would yell out the kitchen window. “And they certainly can’t be astronauts.”
Then she’d shut the window and continue with her baking.
Times have changed since then and now, at twenty-seven, I’m well on my way to being where I want to be in life. But right now, the goddamn sensors are driving me insane. I pinched the bridge of my nose and clamped my eyes shut in an attempt to block out the lights that were whirring around and around in front of me.
Outside my office door there were frantic footsteps as people continued to rush up and down in an attempt to discover exactly what it was we were seeing. Someone banged on my door, startling me, and I hurried to open it.
“What’s the development?” my boss asked without any formalities.
I hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say. He had the uncanny ability of putting the fear of God into anyone he spoke to. My hands began to tremble as I searched for an acceptable answer. Looking into his stormy gray eyes I mumbled, “Er … well we’re not sure yet.”
“How the hell are you not sure yet!” he raged.
He paced the floor of my office like a raging bull, his nostrils flaring and his face turning crimson. He ran a hand through his salt and pepper colored buzz cut and shook his head.
“For Christ’s sake, what’s your name?”
“Madison.”
“For Christ’s sake, Madison, the sensors have been going off for almost a week and we’re still no closer to determining what’s headed toward Earth than we were when they started.”
“Sir, with all due respect I’m only ju—”
“Upstairs,” he interrupted me. “You’re needed in the main control room. It’s all hands on deck right now, no man left behind to twiddle their thumbs.”
He exited the room dramatically without waiting for me to answer. Gathering my paperwork up in large, heavy binders, I hurried after him tripping up the stairs in the process. Luckily he didn’t notice, he was too busy shouting orders to everyone he passed.
“The meteorological department—call them. I need Steven Jenkins out here now!” he shouted at a plump, pink man who, only moments ago, was sipping contently on his coffee.
“Yes sir,” he dropped the coffee in the nearest bin and ran down the hallway.
Upstairs in the control room there was a sea of bodies crammed amongst the screens and tables. The combined sound of everyone’s raised voices was like a sea of stress and sleeplessness.
“So, Captain Impossible brought you up here to suffer with the rest of us?” came a voice from behind me.
I turn around to see Bradley, a Yale graduate who started at the same time as me although he’s five years younger.
“Yeah,” I sigh. “Gibson’s in full swing panic mode right now,” I sighed as I tried to keep a hold on my binders.
We both stare at our boss who’s making his way through the room like a tornado. Papers are flying in his path and people are hurrying to get out of his way.
“Here, let me help you with those,” Bradley said as he took the top three binders off the pile and placed them down at the nearest desk.
“I can’t stand the sight of these flashing lights any more,” I grumbled. “Can’t they turn them off or something?”
Bradley was no longer listening to me, instead he was chewing on a pencil with a frown wrinkling up his baby face.
“They’re saying it’s aliens,” he blurted out.
“What?” I can’t believe what he’s saying. “Aliens? Are you kidding me?”
“Nope,” he shook his head. “I overheard Gibson and one of the others talking outside of my office,” he explained without further elaborating.
“And?” I grabbed his arm, desperate to hear more.
“Like I said,” he began tapping the pencil on his bottom lip as he stared ahead at the chaos,
“it’s aliens. They’re sure of it. They said the only thing the sensors could possibly be picking up is movement from sentient crafts.”
“That can’t be,” I said, shaking my head. “I mean our sensors have detected things before.”
“Yeah but not like this. Not on this scale, not at this speed, and definitely not at this volume.”
There’s a twinge of excitement in my gut as I think about the possibility of aliens coming to Earth. In a way it’s all I’ve ever dreamed of. But now, in the moment, it seems so incredible and well … like a fantasy.
“Are you sure it’s not a meteor shower?” I asked although I knew it was going to irritate him.
“Yuh,” he answered in that special condescending voice of his. “We’re pretty sure it’s not a fucking meteor shower.”
The pencil was being chewed to a pulp between his front teeth as he watched Gibson in the distance. I watched as a fleck of black, painted, wood splintered off the pencil and onto his teeth. Watching him was making me even more stressed out and I began laying out my files across the desk.
“I’m not even sure what we’re supposed to do up here,” I said.
“Just look busy.” Bradley swiveled around in his chair to face me. “I’m not sure what we’re supposed to be doing either. This place is a madhouse right now.”
“Sure.” I began scribbling wildly on a sheet of paper, nonsensical ramblings and the occasional scientific word littering the page.
“You don’t seem that excited,” he said without looking up.
“I am,” I replied, although my dull, flat tone betrayed me.
“Really?” He rolled his eyes up to meet mine. “I hope I don’t ever have to see you miserable.”
“Very funny,” I said, making a face. “I guess I’m just … not trying to get my hopes up. Making contact with an alien civilization is all we’ve ever wanted. It’s what I’ve always wanted and now that it seems to be really happening I don’t want to be disappointed. As far as I’m concerned it’s random space debris and until it can be proven otherwise, I’m sticking with that.”
“It’s not space debris, Madison. We both know it isn’t.”
I didn’t say anything. I just kept looking down at all the files in front of me, glancing up at the screens every now and again to see if any of it made sense. My thoughts were in a jumble—so much was going on, and so many people were around me. I needed my own space and as I thought about the prospect of aliens arriving on our planet, I started to feel emotional. There was something so terrifying about it—the great unknown, the fear that they might be hostile.
“I’m sorry. I forgot something in my office,” I lied. “Be back in a moment.”
I hurried out of the control room and dashed down the stairs. There were so many people crammed in the control room that the rest of the building was almost deserted. It was like a ghost town. I could hear my own breath as I stomped along the ground, my footsteps echoing so loudly I sounded like I weighed a hundred pounds more than I did. I heard a door swing shut behind me, followed by the pitter patter of footsteps. Turning around, I saw Bill from my department running toward the control room. He was the last man to go and I watched him hurry away, his body turning into a dot on the horizon of the seemingly endless hallway.
There was the essence of the Marie Celeste among the empty rooms. Walking past an office, the door wide open, I saw papers scattered across every available surface. Empty coffee cups were peppering the brown carpet. There was a used toothbrush on the desk next to a half empty bottle of water, a testament to the amount of time spent in the place.
Making my way to my own office, I flung open the door and took in a deep breath of the familiar smell. A lime, basil and mandarin scented bowl of potpourri sat on the edge of my desk. Bradley always laughed at it, saying it’s frivolous and pointless but what would he know about making a place a home? He was still living off ramen and chocolate milk.
I sit down at my desk and surveyed the immaculate neatness I always kept. There was a fine layer of dust accumulating on my computer screen and I pulled out a packet of wipes from the top drawer. Paying special attention to open it slowly, I smelled the lemon aroma as I pulled back the cellophane. I pulled out a wipe and felt its cleanliness between my fingers. Wiping the screen, I felt a sense of calm wash over me. I like taking care of things—having everything in order. Yet, as I sit alone with an overwhelming sense of isolation surrounding me, I feel as though I’m the captain of a sinking ship with the passengers long gone and only myself remaining behind. The silence in the office was so vast and cavernous that I could hear a faint ringing in my ears. It was however, far more bearable than the cacophony up in the control room.
Leaning back in my chair and enjoying the peace and quiet I flicked on my computer screen. No doubt if Gibson found me down here he’d be almost apoplectic with rage. He didn’t like people going against the grain. I saw him once fire someone for taking a sip of water during a meeting. Apparently, it was the third time he’d done that in two years and Gibson gave him twenty-four hours to get his affairs in order. Gibson, the crazy bastard.
Still, there was no way he’d know I was down here. I could be doing naked star jumps in the center of the control room and people still wouldn’t notice. The energy up there was sheer madness and panic with all eyes on the screen as they tried to figure out what we were seeing.
As my screen flickered on and I too started to watch the dots, a thousand scenarios begin running through my head as to what they could be. I mean sure, they looked as though they knew what they were doing, but aliens? Really?
I couldn’t take my eyes off them as they traveled across the screen. They seemed to be moving with great speed across great big chunks of the Americas. Then something caught my eye. They were all in unison, moving in a coordinated fashion. All but one.
It was moving in its own direction, making its ways across the eastern states of North America. Then it did something remarkable. For a moment I thought it was splintering and breaking up over Virginia. The dot turned into four, then traveled off to the far end of the screen. I tracked it, seeing three segments drift out west while one, to my astonishment, was heading right for our facility.
“Holy shit,” I clapped a hand over my mouth.
If I’m the first one to tell Gibson about this, then at last he’d take me seriously. There’d be a promotion, a pay raise, the chance to be in the big leagues, and the chance to encounter a real extra-terrestrial. Scribbling down the coordinates, I grabbed the scrap of paper and hurtled myself out the office, down the hallway, and back up the stairs. As I entered the sweaty control room with its flashing lights, flailing arms and desperate garbled orders, it didn’t appear that anyone else has taken proper note of what I saw. Shit, maybe I had imagined it. But as I looked down at the paper in my hand, my fingers perspiring over it making it dog-eared and fragile, I knew I was right. In the panic up here, people were so busy trying to do their job that they missed out on one of the most important observations.
“This is crazy!” I heard someone yelling into a phone beside me. “There’s been more activity picked up by our radar in the last week than in the last ten years!”
The guy was practically pulling his hair out, his face pink and shiny. Ignoring him, I spied Gibson across the room. He was yanking at his tie, loosening it around his neck. Taking a deep breath, I made my way over.
Chapter 2
Jarick
“I hate it here,” Victorinth complained as she chewed on her shirt sleeve.
“I’m sorry,” I yawned into the darkness. “You won’t have to stay here long.”
My little sister, Victorinth, wasn’t convinced and rolled over on the hard floor. She tried to get herself comfortable but couldn’t and grunted and mumbled to herself as she moved.
“We shouldn’t have split up you know,” she spoke while facing the wall. “I miss them so much. I hope they’re all ok.”
“I think they’ll all be fine.�
� I said although I was just as worried as she was. “But I miss them too.”
We had to leave our friends behind in Richmond. I thought about our good friend Benzen, he had been the only one allowed to stay. I hoped he was all right.
“Why did we have to split up?” she bolted upright and shouted. “We were stronger together. We could support and help one another.”
“I don’t want to have this conversation again,” I crawled over to her and placed my coat around her shoulders. “Please, will you calm down and get some sleep?”
“I’m not tired,” she huffed. “How are we supposed to sleep in here anyway?”
Looking around she saw nothing but a dark, rectangular box. The surfaces around her were dirty and she grimaced as her arm scraped the side of the wall. There was a hole in one of the corners. It was the only source of light, and a tiny ray of daylight shone a lemon yellow line across the floor. She watched the dust dance in the sunshine and wondered what the hell was happening.
“Why are we in here?” she asked although she knew not to expect a straight answer. “It’s cold and unclean. There’s no way this is better than the apartment.”
“Do you ever stop asking questions?” I snapped. “You’re acting like a kid. You’re an adult now you know?”
“Do you ever answer any questions?” she snapped back. “And I know I’m grown up. Sometimes I feel like more of an adult than you.”
Victorinth’s quick retort lingered in the air, a caustic tension that covered the atmosphere. For a long while we didn’t speak to one another. Sitting in silence, we listened to the noise outside of the box—the sound of voices outside and the way we’ve begun to breathe in unison; short, sharp breaths that punctuate the emptiness.