Atlantis Quadrilogy - Box Set

by Brandon Ellis

  “Guards,” yelled Slade again. He grimaced, signs of pain rippling over his hardened face. “You’re coming with us one way or the other, Drew.”

  The camera man shifted his shot from Drew to soldiers rushing toward Slade and Drew. He panned the camera back in Drew’s direction.

  Drew turned and ran, the cameraman doing the same, following Drew, doing his best to keep the camera on Drew while pushing away foliage and jumping over downed tree limbs. He skidded to a halt just as Drew ran by, entering a dense thicket, dodging trees and brush.

  Two men came barreling after him, pistols drawn.

  The cameraman followed them down a small ravine, over a tree-riddled hill, out of the clump of trees, and down a dark alley.

  Drew jumped into a garbage bin.

  One of Slade’s guards pulled the trigger and a bullet punctured the metal bin. An obvious warning shot.

  Drew jumped on the lip of the bin and did an acrobatic flip to the ground, running the moment his shoes touched the pavement.

  Back in Lookout Mountain, the real Drew snorted in derision. “No one’s going to believe an acrobatic flip…”

  Anderle shushed him, his eyes glued to the screen.

  The guards chased fake-Drew, body-double-Drew, holographic-Drew, whatever-he-was-he-wasn’t-real-Drew through the alley and onto a busy street, cars honking and swerving, their lights blinding him as they swept by.

  Drew raced onto the street and right in front of a car. He slammed his hands on a hood. Predictably, the car had stopped just inches from him. The driver screamed profanities, then jerked back as a bullet – possibly meant for Drew – sliced the driver right between the eyes.

  Drew ran around the car and behind a two-story apartment complex, disappearing into another building. The military men ran after him, then the scene ended.

  President Jefferson stepped in front of the camera, a United States flag pin on his suit-coat pocket. “That’s Drew Avera. Our savior. Our champion. Our patriot. Thank you, Drew.”

  Anderle turned, grinning from ear to ear. “What you think, buddy?”

  Drew stood, mouth flapping in the wind. “Why?”

  Anderle patted Drew’s shoulder. “Look, we need you.”

  “Why? For what?” Drew had that, “no pot for three months” feeling in the pit of his stomach. The one that told him “bad things will happen. Now.” He would have given a steaming, dripping kidney, just to be allowed to light up and kick back. His old friend Anderle had shifted into some bad shit. Drew wasn’t sure he wanted to know what kind of shit exactly, but as soon as that thought entered his mind, he knew he had to dig deeper. The journalist in him always won out. Even over the stoner.

  Anderle slipped his hand off Drew’s shoulder and walked toward the doorway. He spun on his heels, lips curled. “I’ll let you and Mya stay safe if you’re game with what we need you to do. I won’t if you decide to sit on your ass and do nothing. You’re living like a prince, Drew. Don’t be a disrespectful prick.”

  A prince? Drew was being treated like an unruly dog and Mya like a prisoner.

  Drew put his hands behind his head in what he hoped was a show of casual nonchalance. “I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”

  Anderle smiled. “It’s for the benefit of all.” He eyed a guard. “Take over the other guards watch over Mya.” The guard nodded. “We need her to lure in her father,” he said as he disappeared around the corner.

  Lure in her father? What? Drew sighed. There was a sinister plan in place and it involved Mya and her dad. Drew stood when a clack of boots pierced the hallway, slowly coming closer.

  Click.

  Clack.

  Click.

  General Lin Yu took a step into view, cocking his head in Drew’s direction. He pointed, shaking his head, making sarcastic puppy-dog eyes, his lower lip pushed out in an exaggerated pout. He pointed his finger at him, pushing his thumb, creating a fake gun with his hand. “This for Mya,” came out of his mouth. He cocked his thumb back with his other hand and released, dropping his thumb down, “Phta, Phta,” he sounded, light spit shooting out of his mouth. It was the sound of a silencer on a gun. “Pour little Mya. She important to us. She important to her papa. We need her papa. You be careful or we make her dead anyway. Then you die.”

  4

  Leonia, Canis Major ~ Galactic Arm, Milky Way Galaxy

  Jaxx marveled at the lion’s poise and grace. The lion should have been staggering and stumbling, unsteady on two legs, but he was the opposite. He walked upright, as if lions on Leonia had always walked upright. The lion reached behind his back and pulled out a long, wide bamboo-like stick, with a laser trigger and a scope. Jaxx took a step back, moving into fighting position, bringing energy through his palms and up his arms. He was getting better at this, more skilled at harnessing the Chi of the Universe.

  The lion gave a hearty laugh. “I thought you didn’t fear me.” He stood straighter and threw off his brown robe, revealing his muscle-bound, athletic build – no shirt, but pants that reminded Jaxx of a Lanna: Thai fishermen pants, wide and loose, wrapped at the waist by a silver rope.

  The lion had black chains crisscrossing his chest, knives sheathed and dangling from the chains. Bulbous, rounded glass bottles filled with a red liquid were attached to the rope around his pants, with energy guns slung low around his hips.

  The lion threw his bamboo weapon into the air. It spun several times until he caught it and aimed toward the sky. “I never thought I’d have to come to fighting again, Jaxx. You brought us war.” He glared at Jaxx, then back up at the oncoming combat-mechs. “We were a peaceful lot – until you showed up and opened the pyramid network. But peace on our planet? Not anymore. Not for a while.” He growled. “And I told you to run!”

  The lion turned, thrusting his giant weapon upward then pulled the trigger with his claw. A bright burst of purple energy exploded from the weapon’s barrel just as a flying combat-mech came into view, slamming against the mech’s hip. Shards of armor splayed outward, twisting the combat-mech around, doing little damage but changing its trajectory.

  The lion roared. “Run, I said!”

  Whooooj! Whooooj! Whooooj!

  More purple energy bursts shot from several different positions inside the wheat field, cracking against combat-mechs, lighting them up, but doing very little damage.

  Jaxx spun on his heels, pushing at stalks, bending and breaking them to make a path as he raced away from the lion. He zig-zagged, avoiding falling debris, crashing through the grain. There was no end, no way out. Did this field go on forever?

  A furry arm, yellowish-gold in color, jutted out from the stalks, clothe-lining him and lifting him off his feet. He came down hard, knocking the wind out of him, grain from the stalks spilling down on him, like snow.

  A lioness loomed. She smiled, her sharp teeth shining, her purple eyes glowing. “I hear you’re Jaxx?” She held her hand out to help Jaxx up. She was also toned, though a few feet shorter than the other beast he had just met. She had on the same pants and chains crisscrossed over her tan shirt. She held a bamboo rifle in her other hand.

  Jaxx extended his hand, doing his best to catch his breath, his stomach and ribs tightening around his diaphragm, making it nearly impossible to suck in the planet’s rich oxygen.

  He touched the lioness’s paw. It was soft, inviting, reminding him of a ridiculously comfortable blanket.

  She helped him to his feet, then pounded the rifle against his chest, slamming him on the ground, the back of his head striking hard against the earth. He rubbed his occipital bone and moaned just as thunder blanketed the atmosphere – a black, diamond-shaped ship with heavy rockets, punched through the blue heaven above.

  The lioness looked up. “You’ve brought the Agadons upon us!” She glanced down at Jaxx, her face gnarled in fury. “You fool.”

  She swung her bamboo stick upward, slid her claw into the trigger, and pulled. Blast after purple blast shot toward the diamond ship, evaporating again
st the ship’s energy shield.

  Fury filled her eyes. “They bring black science, blended with Agadon magic. These creatures, the inhabitants of those ships, are as bad as it gets. Those artificial intelligence breeds should have never been created. One wrong program glitch in their mainframe systems and these nasty Beings turning on the entire galaxy is what happens.”

  Jaxx attempted to get up, but was met with the lioness’s boot against his stomach, shoving him back down. “Stay.” She shot off another round of purple projectiles. “Can you fight?”

  Jaxx nodded. “I can.”

  She unstrapped a gun from her chain and dropped it on the ground. “You can? No, no. You will.”

  Jaxx grabbed the gun and she pulled him to his feet. “Follow me, peach-face. We’ve got combat-mechs to pound and Agadons to shove off our planet.”

  5

  E-Quadrant, Earth ~ Lookout Mountain, Tennessee

  Drew opened a door onto a barrage of flickering computer lights and rows upon rows of people working at computer stations. Some had their feet on their desks leaning back against their chairs, others were hunched over their keyboards, watching two or three monitors at a time. It was like they were conducting an orchestra.

  This was Anderle’s family, his crusaders of the Dark Net, his hackers. And there was a shitload of them present.

  A screen covered the entire south wall. Smack in the center of the screen was Mya’s picture. She was in the arms of a man in camo, his face excited, as if he hadn’t seen her for some time. They had the same skin tone, tan, Puerto Rican. She leaned on his arm like a comfortable child with a parent.

  In the corner of the screen was a map of North Carolina, a dot hovering over the words Marine Corp Base Camp. Data streamed across the screen, tabulating certain United States military movements. They were tracking someone or a group of people, perhaps an entire brigade. That was a shit ton of manpower to dedicate to track one brigade. Drew studied the data as it streamed by. Little by little, a picture emerged. It wasn’t a platoon. It was a single individual, code name, “Arecibo.” It was the name of Puerto Rico’s most famous observatory. Did that mean he was the observer or the observed. It still didn’t add up. Mya was at the center of something. Drew pressed his brain, but nothing popped.

  A young guy twirled around in his chair and nodded. He couldn’t have been more than fifteen years old. “Hey, sailor. Whatcha’ in for?” He chewed gum, smiling just a tad.

  “I’m Michael Anderle’s friend. I’m just visiting.” He didn’t know if he could call Anderle a friend anymore, but maybe it would work in here, a place he could get some answers.

  The guy cocked his head, his mouth straightening, eyes serious. “You’re not a patriot hat?” He dropped his feet off his desk. “You’re that Drew guy.” He quickly typed on his computer and the main screen shut off. Commotion filled the room. He pointed to the door. “Get out.”

  “A patriot hat?”

  “A hacker for the New United States of America. We protect our country. Now, go.”

  “I was told – ”

  “Whoever told you anything about being in this room told you shit. Now get your ass out or we’ll throw you out.” He flicked his nose, then wiped his finger on his shirt. “Guards!”

  “Why was Mya on the screen?”

  “Tā shì shénme?” said a bulky Chinese man in a camouflage uniform and cap. He strode up the aisle, past dead screens and gaping hackers. He walked swiftly by Drew and opened the double doors. “Chūqù!”

  Drew shrugged, obeying, and walked outside. The doors shut and Drew stood staring. Why was he ushered out so quickly, even after mentioning Anderle’s name?

  Jefferson Kennedy, the new President of the United States, walked around the corner with a smile on his face, looking presidential in his perfectly ironed and US flag tie. He started doing the robot, a dance almost everyone knew, singing the national anthem – terribly – at the same time.

  “What the…,” Drew stopped in his tracks. It had never occurred to him that the holographic president had a flesh-and-bones counterpart.

  Anderle came into view, mimicking everything Jefferson Kennedy was doing, singing along with the fake President.

  “Hey Drew,” said Anderle and the President at the exact same time. “What I say, what I do, what I dance...so does Mr. Jefferson Kennedy here.”

  Jefferson blinked out and dissipated into nothingness. Another fucking hologram.

  Drew squinted at Anderle. He hardly knew the man any more. What was he doing making a hologram dance? He had always been a couple of slices short of a loaf, but been so brilliant Drew had overlooked his kookiness? Or was it new, this off-the-wall routine? He knew he had to tread lightly, to get what he wanted. “Dude, I used your name and they still kicked me out.”

  Anderle shrugged, but didn’t make eye contact. A sure sign he was hiding something.

  “Man, if you need me to be compliant, I need answers. If I’m going to represent you and your…” Drew wanted to call it a ‘Fucked Up Regime’ but he caught himself in time. “You catch more flies with honey.” Wasn’t that what mom always said? He smiled, doing his best to look relaxed and on board. “If I am going to represent your new powerhouse to the United States, I need to understand where we’re headed and what the plan is.”

  Anderle’s grin said there was a plan and he was busting to tell someone about it.

  Drew faked his very best, loose, stoner smile; one he knew Anderle liked. They’d gotten baked enough times for his old bud to recognize that he was chill. Drew waited. And waited. He didn’t let his smile drop. Just a moment longer and Anderle would crack.

  Anderle fidgeted with his shorts. “Listen buddy, General Lin Yu doesn’t want anyone going in there, especially me. And you went in there even though I asked you to see me, not the IT room.” He looked away.

  “I thought this was your command, Anderle?”

  “Yeah…” Anderle shoved his hands in his pockets. “We are trying to get the Chinese army to turn on their president. Apparently, I screwed it up by spying on the general himself, hacking his computer files. They have some high-end filters, I tell you. I did not see those trip wires and you know me, I see every electronic thing there is to see…”

  “Dude…that sucks…” Drew wanted to keep Anderle talking. Flattering the guy had always worked in the past.

  “That tight-ass general will get over it. If he doesn’t, well...” Anderle fingered his throat, moving it slowly in a cutting motion.

  Drew pulled Anderle’s hand down. “They might be watching.”

  “I’m in control, Drew. Don’t you worry your little face, bro.”

  Drew doubted it. In the years that he had known him, Anderle had never threatened him like he had the other day. Someone was pulling the strings and it wasn’t Anderle.

  “It’s all cool.” Anderle offered Drew a piece of candy.

  He shook his head no. He leaned in close and whispered. “What about Mya?”

  Anderle nodded, excited. “She’s our bait.”

  The puzzle pieces fell into place. They were tracking an asset across the States. Drew took a leap, hoping he’d put it together accurately. “For Arecibo?”

  “Yeah….” Anderle was pumped. “Once we corner Arecibo, game over, man.”

  “He’s her father, right?” said Drew.

  “You bet your ass he’s her father. That’s not his real name, but it’s kinda cool we call him a code name, don’t you think?” His lips downturned at Drew’s shrug and continued, “Mya’s asshole father has us in a bind and won’t comply with our efforts to take down the Chinese president. Her father is running the military like he’s the president.” He pulled Drew down the hall towards the oval office. “I’m the president.”

  “About Mya.”

  “Mya, shmya.” They reached the oval office and Anderle’s hand rested on the door handle.

  “You can’t use her as bait, man,” said Drew. “I’m not going to put a little girl on de
ath row like this. You’re in charge, get her out. Get me out.”

  “No can do, brother. No. Can. Do.”

  “But who is Mya’s dad? Why does he even matter? He’s just a soldier…”

  “Oh, Drew. He’s much more than that and like I said, he’s compromising the mission. The dipweed knows too much, knows my plans, and has been cutting off communication with my Chinese allies. The same allies who are trying to cut the Chinese president’s nuts off.”

  “Doesn’t he know you’re on the same side?”

  Anderle paused, twisting his hand around the door knob, letting the lock click and click and click. He pushed open the door slightly.

  Drew caught his tell. “You’re not on the same side. You’re on your side.”

  “Mya will help get him on our side. And on second thought, I have another kick-ass idea.” Anderle let go of the door and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, beckoning Drew to follow him down the hall, skipping the oval office altogether.

  Drew stuck his foot in the closing door. He racked his brain. There was something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Mya was special, sure. She had powers only movie characters had. Was that why they were keeping her under lock and key? Was the story about her father just a ruse? It didn’t add up and Drew did not like it when the facts didn’t add up.

  Anderle stopped in mid-stride and wiggled the phone in his hand. “Come on. I want to show you how bad-ass of a portrait photographer I am.”

  Drew stood in the doorway. “Dude, can I have a piece of candy?” Had the guy even noticed he was propping the door to the oval office open or was he too self-absorbed to let a tiny detail like national security impinge on whatever madness he had planned for the next ten minutes?

  Anderle dug into his pants pocket and tossed a piece of candy at Drew. He turned and started to dance walk down the hall.

  Drew caught it, unwrapped it, and put it in his mouth. He rubbed the peppermint candy while it was in his mouth, getting the stickiness on his fingers, then went to shut the oval office doors.