In that very instant, Traveler reappeared, now in the middle of the damaged nest. Still unnoticed by the two pacing dinosaurs, he gingerly placed the eggs down next to the other one. Jason, Billy, Rizzo, and Ricket yelled simultaneously: “Get out of there, Traveler!”
Both dinosaurs emerged from the far side of the clearing. Startled, Traveler looked up. He hesitated momentarily and by the time he opened his wrist panel they were practically upon him. He froze.
As if seeing everything happen in slow motion, Jason was sure his friend had just lived his last few seconds on Earth. Jason was paralyzed by Traveler’s inevitable outcome.
So when four galloping steeds carrying blue-clad, U.S. 7th Cavalry riders broke into the clearing, Jason’s jaw dropped. Behind them, and in close pursuit, were more horses and more riders: Indian warriors. But it was the soldier in the lead who first drew and held Jason’s attention. It was none other than a terrified-looking General George Armstrong Custer—his eyes wide open and long blond hair flowing in the wind behind him. His wide-brimmed hat flew into the air, just as he was snatched up by his head and plopped into the mouth of the closest dinosaur, the mother Spinosaurus.
So stunned was everyone by the sudden co-mingling of the two disparate time realms that no one noticed Traveler. He had completed his phase-shift maneuver and was safely back with the rest of the team.
Chapter 39
Jason had Grimes take the Perilous above Earth’s atmosphere into low orbit where the drones no longer affected time and, more importantly, their communications. The admiral was on comms within minutes and clearly eager to hear how their progress was coming along.
“Four down, one to go,” Jason explained. “But Ricket tells me the drones are now communicating and trying to sync, so our timeframe has been pushed forward. We need to get the last one paired by this time tomorrow.”
“What happens if you don’t?” the admiral asked.
“They’ll go ahead and sync to some unified time realm. One that would be, in all likelihood, different than our own.”
The admiral grunted, then proceeded to give Jason an update on the repairs being made to Her Majesty and his work with Gaddy—developing a strategy for her to gather information when she entered the Emperor’s Palace.
“I’m just surprised that little bug, Overlord Lom, is her uncle.”
“Interim emperor. He’s about as powerful a Craing dignitary as you can get.”
“And you’re sure he has no idea his niece is associated with the dissident underground?”
“She says she’s been careful. She sees no way he could know. It’s a risk she’s willing to take,” the admiral replied.
“And she realizes that we’ll be using her subterfuge and information-gathering to ultimately hold the advantage when we attack the Craing?”
“Definitely, but she’s made it clear this is not about the Alliance attacking the populace of the Craing worlds. That’s off limits. She’s looking for the overthrow of Craing governmental and political factions. She understands we are confronting the Craing leadership strictly on a military level.”
“So talk to me about Her Majesty.”
“We’re still retrofitting her and making repairs. Her cloaking device is operational and her weaponry formidable. But in the end, she’s still a converted luxury liner. Nothing nimble about that ship,” the admiral added.
“Why did you select Brian to captain her?”
“Your brother knows Craing space better than any human alive. He also is a master at weaseling himself out of tight situations. Her Majesty is not an Allied vessel and has no ties to the Alliance, thus providing us a layer of separation. If you think about it, Brian is the perfect choice to enter Craing space.”
Jason let that comment hang in the air, not needing to ask him the unspoken question.
“Yes, Jason, I do trust him. I’ve seen changes in him over the last few weeks. Everyone deserves a second chance, so I expect you to support your brother on this. Can you do that?”
“Sure. What else do you need from me?”
“We need Ricket back here as soon as you’re done with him. He’ll be instrumental for our plan to come together. He’ll be accompanying Gaddy, posing as a prospective boyfriend she wants to introduce to her uncle.”
“Seriously? Ricket’s over two hundred years old! They’ll recognize him—hell, he was the Craing emperor, for God’s sake!”
“Calm down. We’ll alter his looks. As for his age, he doesn’t look that much older than Gaddy. Have you really looked at him lately?” the admiral asked, defiantly.
Jason let his eyes fall on Ricket seated in the shuttle’s cockpit, next to Grimes. Truth was, since he’d gone through the process of becoming fully organic, he did look much younger. But Gaddy’s boyfriend? And Brian captaining a ship for the Alliance? It seemed to him the admiral’s plan was a deck of precariously stacked cards: one strong jolt and everything would fall apart.
The admiral interrupted Jason’s thoughts. “Boomer’s here; wants to talk to you.”
“Boomer?”
“That’s what Mollie goes by these days. It’s just a phase, I’m sure.”
“Daddy?”
“Hey! I miss you, little one.”
“I miss you, too. When you coming back? I have a lot to show you—you’ve been gone way too long,” she said, sounding as bossy as ever.
“I’m almost done, Mollie. If everything goes well in Asia, I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“I’m called Boomer now, Dad. I’m tiny, sneaky and lethal, like a boomslang.”
“What the heck’s a boomslang?”
“I think it’s a snake. Woodrow says it comes from a place in Africa.”
“Woodrow? You mean Chief Petty Officer Woodrow?” Jason didn’t know the SEAL well, only that he was a hard-ass and carried a reputation for being a man born to kill—lethal in every way possible. “I don’t understand your association with him, Mollie.”
“I told you, it’s Boomer now, Dad. He’s taken over my self-defense classes. He’s teaching me not to be a victim again.”
Jason heard something in her voice he hadn’t heard before. Had he been gone that long? Did he not really know her anymore?
“I just should have been consulted on who you work with, that’s all.”
“Well, Dad, you’re never here. There’s things I need to know how to do. Don’t you understand that?”
The truth was, he didn’t. When she needed him most, when Nan died, he’d left to fight the Craing, the Caldurians … hell, dinosaurs. The reason he wasn’t relating to his little girl on the other end of his comms signal was that she was doing what was necessary for her own future survival: mentally, physically, and emotionally.
“I’m sorry, Mollie … Boomer. Work with Woodrow. I trust you, little one. And more important, I love you. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, Dad. I know that.”
Jason cut the connection and leaned back in his seat, his mind replaying his conversation with Mollie. Boomer?
From the rear seating area of the shuttle, Dira leaned in close and whispered in his ear, “You okay in there?” She had removed her battle suit saying she needed to let her skin breathe. Jason’s eyes took in her violet skin and her skimpy, formfitting tank top.
“Can you scratch the middle of my back?” she asked, leaning forward in her seat, using her thumb to point over her shoulder.
“Sure.” He reached over and scratched her backbone until she smiled and leaned back.
“Much better, thanks. Tell me about your home. Where you grew up.”
Jason’s mind went to the collection of old cars, buses, and assorted scrap metal that comprised his backyard—the scrapyard. His cheeks flushed. “Well, there’s not much to tell. You’ve seen where I grew up.”
“The scrapyard. I’ve seen it on The Lilly’s display. But what was it like to grow up there? Did you have a lot of friends?” she asked, her face turned toward his, mere inches away.
; “When I was young, Mollie’s age, it was magical. I loved it. Getting older, though, it was anything but magical. I guess I was embarrassed living at a junkyard. That’s probably why both my brother and I left as soon as possible, joining the service. How about you? Tell me about your home.”
“It may not be what you envision it to be, Jason. Where you lived, at a scrapyard, you had freedom to explore and do as you wanted. I was never alone. A Jhardian girl, especially one of noble heritage, must conform to certain dictates. The clothes I wore were selected for me the night before; other than family members I was never alone with someone of the opposite sex. I only spoke when spoken to.”
“Sounds very formal. Terrible, actually,” Jason said, sympathetically.
“Don’t get me wrong, I was loved. It was a nurturing, loving environment. But confining, stifling, to the point I was miserable. Wealth beyond your imagination, and a world filled with natural beauty. I’ve never seen its equal. But I would have loved your childhood existence—your freedom.”
Jason watched her lips as she talked. He’d never wanted to kiss a woman as much as he wanted to kiss her right then. A slight smile spread across her lips.
“Are you even listening to me?”
“Yes, I’m listening … for the most part.” His eyes met hers and held there. He felt her move in closer, saw the flesh of her upper arm press into his battle suit.
“Captain,” came Grimes’ voice from the cockpit. “We’re closing in on the coordinates for the last drone.”
Chapter 40
With the last drone to be paired taking up space in the limited cargo area, the three rhino-warriors were forced to stand up in the now overly cramped passenger compartment. Jason made his way forward and knelt down at the open entry to the cockpit. Ricket had his locator equipment laid out on his lap, with the holo-display of the terrain below represented in ultra-real, high-definition. The vista below broadened in accordance with the shuttle’s movement. Seeing Jason, Ricket widened the locator’s perspective, revealing the final drone’s pulsating icon.
“China?” Jason asked.
“More west, more like Uzbekistan,” Grimes chimed in.
She eased up on the controls, and bringing the shuttle to a standstill, hovered high above the wide open plains below.
“Cool! 1215 … in China that would be the Jin dynasty,” Rizzo said, sitting in the shuttle’s front row and directly to the right of Jason’s squatting back.
“What can we expect to encounter in Uzbekistan, Rizzo?”
Rizzo peered around the open bulkhead to Ricket’s holo-display. “My guess, Genghis Khan has just invaded the Khwarezmia Empire. The location of the icon looks to be at Samarkand.”
The shuttle slowly descended while still making forward progress. Up ahead was a settlement of sorts, or some kind of community. As they approached, it became more evident the structures below were somewhat like cylindrical tents.
“Those dwellings are called gers … or are they yurts? I always get the two mixed up,” Rizzo said. “They’re made out of a felt-like material, derived from compressed matted wool. Warm in winter months, cool in summer.”
As nighttime descended on the landscape below, too many campfires to count billowed up smoke into the night air. Hundreds of the tent-like structures were spread across the wide valley. But it was the spectacle beyond the yurts that got everyone’s attention. Tens of thousands of men and horses. Looking through the windshield, Jason lowered his visor and used his HUD optics to zoom in. The soldiers were dressed in leather and bronze. Thick fur collars were attached on some of their cloaks. More tent structures were on the perimeter, different from the others. They would be the soldier barracks. These troops, beyond a doubt, were the conquerors.
“You got a specific location on the drone?” Jason asked.
“Just like the others, it could be anywhere here, within a mile or two radius. Once we get on the ground and start moving, we’ll get a better directional bearing,” Ricket replied.
“That won’t be necessary, Captain,” Grimes said, pointing a finger toward the horizon.
In the distance, a long line of horse-drawn carts were lined up, single file, on a dirt road. Each cart held several prisoners in an open-barred cage. The centermost cart held a large, black, spherical object. Even from a distance, it was clearly evident it was the last drone.
“How the hell did they get close enough to grab it?” Billy asked.
No one had an immediate answer.
“So where to now, Cap?” Grimes asked.
“Let’s keep our distance, circle around the camp perimeter.”
Grimes banked the shuttle to the left and steered a wide circular course to the far side of the encampment. Closer to the drone and soldiers, something else, something in the darkness invisible to them earlier, rose twenty-five feet into the air. It was a pyramid of circular objects.
Grimes brought her fingers up to her mouth. “Don’t tell me those are …” She leaned forward in her seat. “Those are heads, aren’t they?”
“Yep,” Jason answered, equally repulsed by the sight.
“Yeah, I’ve heard about this,” Rizzo said. “Genghis liked to show his intolerance toward any who confronted him in battle by exhibiting trophies. Heads. For the most part, the heads were taken from the elderly and children.”
“A monster,” Grimes spat.
“That large tent is empty of humans from what my readings tell me, Captain,” Ricket said, pointing toward the barrack-like tents on the outskirt of the settlement.
“Well, it’s certainly big enough. Phase-shift us in there, Grimes, before we’re noticed hovering around up here,” Jason commanded.
In a flash they were no longer high above the encampment, but within the dark confines of what Rizzo had referred to as a yurt.
“Big! It’s like a circus tent,” Grimes said, looking around.
“I think it’s an arena,” Rizzo added. At the far sides of the tent’s open area were rows of roughly-hewn timber boards staggered upward, like steps. “Looks like a grandstand for spectators,” Rizzo added.
* * *
The center of the arena, where the shuttle now sat in near-total darkness, was evidently not visible to the handful of Mongol soldiers who entered the huge yurt. One brought in a nomad peasant woman and had his way with her; another soldier wandered in, did a cursory look around, and quickly left. A third soldier came all the way into the arena, right up to the shuttle, and had to be killed.
Rizzo was most interested in the man’s weaponry: a long, crudely-made knife, worn on a hilt at his hip, and a short, curved, composite bow that he’d worn over his shoulder. Holding up the bow and pulling at its draw, he remarked, “Strong pull. You know, it’s estimated these little bows were more accurate, and could deliver a shot nearly twice as far as European bows.”
Jason was only half listening to Rizzo as he walked the fifty paces to the yurt’s entrance flap. Careful not to draw unwanted attention to himself, Jason peered out into the night. Many of the Mongol soldiers he’d seen moving about earlier were gone. He presumed they had turned in to their own yurts for the night. His eyes followed the rocky dirt road into the distance and found the line of carts, still parked where he’d last seen them. The only difference was that the horses were gone, perhaps put into stalls, or put out to pasture for the night. There was just enough firelight and glow from the moon above to see the outline of the drone’s cage. Damn, how am I going to get that thing out of there?
Turning back to the shuttle, he saw Traveler, Born Late, and Few Words huddled together. Their low-voiced words were indecipherable at this distance. Jason held up a hand and signaled Traveler to come closer. When he was ignored, Jason remembered rhinos had terrible night vision. He walked toward the three rhinos and cleared his throat as he grew closer.
“I need your help. Come with me.”
Jason walked slowly, knowing the three rhinos needed to keep his silhouette in sight to guide them across the aren
a. He opened the flap and pointed to the distant line of carts.
“You may not be able to see it from here, but a hundred yards up this road are several carts. The drone is locked inside one of them. Without bringing attention to ourselves, we need to roll that cart back here.”
“It’s very dark, Captain,” Traveler said.
“We only need one of you to do this. And Billy and I will be right there with you.”
Traveler spoke up first. “I will go.”
“We’ll wait a little longer; hopefully the road will be more deserted within the next hour or so.”
* * *
Jason ordered all team members not helping retrieve the drone back into the shuttle.
“Grimes, I want you to get everyone off the planet if anything happens to us.” He turned his attention to Ricket. “What’s our timeframe?”
“We have two hours, five minutes and thirty-three seconds to pair the two drones, Captain. If we’re unsuccessful, the drones will complete their synchronization and lock down a new time realm.”
“Be well away from here by then, Grimes. You got that?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Captain, I should join you. I am the only one who can interface with the drone,” Ricket said.
“You’re needed soon on another crucial mission, Ricket. We simply can’t risk anything happening to you.”
Jason gave Dira a quick nod and a wink, and headed for the yurt’s exit flap. Traveler followed close behind, along with Billy and Rizzo. The four of them hesitated before rushing out onto the dirt road. The men had turned off their helmet lights beforehand, and their black battle suits were virtually impossible to see in the darkness. But Traveler was another matter entirely, Jason thought. He saw that the rhino’s seven-foot-tall stature and grey hide stuck out like a Macy’s Parade float on Thanksgiving Day.
Jason found he needed to ignore his HUD life-icon indicator. So many Mongols were close by he was tempted to turn back. This was crazy. A bonfire blazed up ahead to their right and ten or more Mongol soldiers were huddled close together against the cold. Right now they were most vulnerable. Anyone looking in their direction would certainly notice Traveler, and probably himself, Rizzo, and Billy. What’s that? Crap, he hadn’t thought about Traveler’s thousand pound footfalls. Jason slowed down their hurried pace and immediately the ground shaking subsided.
Realms of Time (Scrapyard Ship) Page 21