Billy slowly awoke and tried to open his eyes. He found any action—even one as minor as that—enormously painful. But nothing compared to the effort involved in trying to sit up. His body stiffened, as muscle-memory recounted again the burning, electrocution-like pain coursing through his body. He pushed away his fuzzy memory recall—of being bombarded by Rom Dasticon’s relentless distortion waves. He recalled the smell of burning flesh—his own. Patting his still tender abdomen, he determined his flesh there wasn’t scorched beyond repair. He was pretty certain his internal nanites worked overtime while he lay unconscious, and he wondered how long that was.
“Hold on there … sit back! You’ve been through a lot, Billy.”
Though the voice was whisper-soft, even that made him wince. Some of his worst hangovers ever couldn’t compare to what he was experiencing now. He thought he recognized the voice and again tried to open his eyes. Blinking his eyelids rapidly several times, he finally managed to open them slightly. He took a moment to reaffirm to himself the person next to him.
“It’s me …”
“Mollie!” Billy exclaimed, suddenly not focusing so much on the incessant pain. Sudden relief washed over him.
Through his half-opened lids he saw her head nod, offering up a half-hearted smile. Sitting cross-legged next to him, bands of yellow sunlight streamed down through open slats above her.
“Where am I? Where are we?” he asked.
“A b … b… b … barn.”
Billy shifted his gaze to someone behind Mollie. Tops moved in closer, then knelt down beside them.
“Help me up, Tops. Slowly!” Billy grabbed ahold of Tops’ extended hand, letting the tall, six-foot-five Army Ranger pull him up to a sitting position. Slowly letting his breath out, Billy looked around. “Is this the same barn … the one we watched being built when we were up on the platform?”
Mollie said, “No. That one was burned to the ground, while most of the settlement people were still inside. We’re miles away from there. In some other township, I guess you’d call it.”
As Billy’s eyes adjusted to the dimly illuminated space, he was better able to distinguish a few other dark shapes. He noted Traveler, lying by the farthest wall on his back. His unmistakable horn pointed up, toward the rafters above. Billy gestured with his chin, instantly regretting the movement. “Is he—?”
“He’s alive. The only one not awake so … so … far,” Tops said.
Billy realized there were far too few inside the barn. Counting only four, not including Mollie and Traveler, his heart sank. “Where’s Boomer! … and my men … our weapons?”
“Boomer’s alive,” Mollie said, sounding annoyed. “She’s up there, sitting on top of that beam, staring out between the planks.”
Tops said, “W … W … Weapons … SuitPacs didn’t come with us … when Dasticon transported us here. And there’s armed guards all around us … around the barn.”
Billy could barely make out the silhouette of someone sitting perfectly still, some forty feet above them. Turning his attention to others nearby, he saw Hayes—brooding—looking miserable. Two other Sharks half waved at him, then continued to talk in low murmurs, in the shadows off to his right. “Where’s Rosy and Sanchez? And Rizzo, and the rest of your team?”
“Rizzo, Drom and Jarial are close … they’re outside.”
“Dead?” he asked hesitantly—expecting the worst.
Mollie shook her head. “Not yet.”
Billy didn’t know what that meant.
“Rosy and Sanchez were killed,” Hayes said.
“How?”
Hayes continued, “Sanchez was drowned in a … I guess, it’s like a horse trough. We watched it happen. Then he was strung up by his ankles. You can still see him swinging in the breeze from a tree, if you go up top, where Boomer is sitting.”
Billy didn’t need Hayes to explain further. He already knew Rom Dasticon was now using Billy’s crew for his what if experiments.
“Rosy was shot from up above … that catwalk … which you can’t see from down here … he’d snuck out … he was trying to find a way out of here,” Hayes said.
“We’re only assuming he was killed. The body is gone.” She gave Hayes a sideways glance.
“You and Boomer, you’ve been in here the whole time?”
Mollie nodded. “It’s only been two days. You must have come after us right away.”
“Your dad and I got your message … the droid … Dewdrop.”
“It was Teardrop,” Boomer corrected Billy, from high above them. Speaking now for the first time, she stood upright on the precariously thin beam.
“Well, I’m glad we found you,” Billy said. “So much, though, for our grand rescue. Can you come down from there?” Billy said, “My neck …”
Like a lithe panther, Boomer dropped off the overhead beam and landed in a crouch nearby without making a sound. Mollie rolled her eyes. It seemed evident that the two sisters had spent too much time in each other’s company.
Boomer smiled at Billy, and said, “They took our weapons and our battle suits, just like they took yours. We are hostages, too. They’re just waiting to pick us off like they did with Sanchez and Rosy.”
“You know about Leon and Hanna … I take it?”
The girls looked at each other for a long while. The emotion the two were feeling was palpable. Mollie eventually said, “It was late … we’d decided to stay one more night on board the Stellar. The Tahli ministry members … they’d somehow gotten free—escaped from the hold. Hanna and Leon were standing watch … the next morning we found them both … dead.” Tears were falling freely from Mollie’s eyes.
Boomer, in turn, looked angry. “The Tahli ministry members were gone. Their time will come … I promise you that, Billy.”
Billy looked up at her and saw the conviction in her eyes. With a pained expression, he asked, “What is that damn banging noise?”
Mollie and Boomer exchanged weary glances.
“Don’t know. It’s been going on for three hours now. Probably another of Dasticon’s experiments, or tests, to see how long we can stand the sound before killing each other,” Boomer said.
“As if we have a choice,” Mollie said.
Billy listened closely to the thunderous racket. “Whatever it is … it sounds familiar.”
All eyes turned to him.
He shrugged. “Maybe it’ll come to me.”
Accessing his internal NanoCom, Billy attempted to hail Rizzo. “I can’t establish a channel.”
“Yeah, Boss, we’ve all been trying to d … d … do the same thing. Guess our NanoCom doesn’t work so g g g … good down here,” Tops said.
Billy thought about Rosy and Sanchez again, and their respective fates. His hatred for Dasticon, if possible, just tripled. It took him two tries before he could rise to his feet. “Show me Rizzo and the others—show me where they are now. Then we need to get out of here.”
“Hey, that’s a great idea … wish I’d thought of it,” Hayes said sarcastically.
Billy ignored him. The least of his problems was Hayes’ smart mouth. “Boomer, what was it you were doing up there?”
“Watching.”
He waited for her to continue.
“Better sight line. But you can see a little too … in between those planks next to Traveler.”
Billy staggered off balance and Mollie took his elbow. Together, they all made their way to the far side of the barn. Billy glanced down at Traveler, hearing his deep steady breaths.
Boomer looked out first, through a narrow gap between two of the boards, then stepped back. “Take a look.”
Billy, at first, didn’t quite understand what he was seeing. Rizzo, and the two Dacci system males—Drom and Jarial—though standing, were wavering on their feet. Shirtless, blood covered their necks and chest areas. Their three faces were badly beaten: bloodied noses, swollen lips, plus a multitude of gashes visible on their cheeks and foreheads. They were difficult to discern
clearly, standing back to back in the middle of a crowd of big, bearded, Amish-looking men. It appeared to be a brawl of sorts. One by one, different townsmen rushed in to fight. It seemed a tag-team affair. No fewer than ten or twelve bearded men lay on the ground, unconscious. Apparently, Rizzo, Drom, and Jarial got the best of them. But there were twenty or so fresh Amish, now chafing at the bit for their own turn. It was only a matter of time before …
Suddenly, a chorus of excited cheers rose into the air as Drom took a haymaker to the chin, going down on all fours. Rizzo and Jarial simultaneously punched the tall, Amish-looking male in the head, knocking him off his feet and laying him out cold.
“How long have they been out there?” Billy asked.
“Maybe twenty minutes, since right before you woke up,” Mollie said.
Billy’s frustration was peaking. “Damn it! Where’s Dasticon? Is he even still around?”
Boomer said, “He pops in from time to time. No sign of him lately, though. He was working on re-opening the Glist tunnel. With the three effigy keys in place, thanks to us, he was certain he could reactivate it. Last we heard he was, once again, heading for the outer-world … to the Stellar. He thanked us for the transportation. Said he intends to use her to re-enter our realm.”
“He needs a ship to do that? With all his god-like capabilities he needs a damn ship?”
Mollie and Boomer shrugged together. Boomer said, “No, he’s no more a god than any of us. What he is … is a master; a phenomenally well-trained master in the martial arts of Kahill Callan. That, and he discovered a secret.”
Even Mollie seemed surprised by that. “I think it’s a bit more than that. That dude’s been around for what … thousands—”
Boomer cut her off: “Don’t be naïve, Mollie. Even Caldurian technology can keep us alive for centuries too … if we so desire. Think about it. We’ve been wondering why he spread his dark influence from one realm to another. Never content … never ceasing until he was trapped.”
“We already know all that,” Mollie said.
Boomer said, “It’s beyond having found a fountain of youth. I think each multiverse realm provided him with something new … powers maybe.”
Mollie shook her head, looking irritated.
“Think about it. The laws of physics in one realm are often different than those in another. Sometimes only subtly, sometimes not. My guess is once he ventures into a new realm he can later bring the laws of physics for that particular realm with him from that point on. That’s how he can do the amazing things he does.”
Billy’s thoughts flashed to the poor woman, trapped in that ginormous soap bubble, then to Dasticon, and his instant change of appearance. He mentally pictured Glorianne.
As another cheer rose up from outside, Billy looked out between the boards again. Both Rizzo and Drom lay on the ground. Jarial was staggering—his fists clenched, but barely able to raise them up above waist level.
“Immortality … and all the bazaar tricks. It’s as simple as that, I think,” Boomer continued. “But after twenty-five hundred years, he’s bored. I believe he’s looking for a meaning behind it all.”
“The meaning of what?” Mollie asked.
“I don’t know … life itself? Maybe that’s what this is all about. These counterfeit, illusory, circumstances he constantly creates, probably on countless worlds across countless multiverse realms. He’s looking for someone … or something … to challenge him. To show him there is more.”
“More of what?” Mollie asked.
Boomer didn’t answer—but Tops did. “He’s looking for an ab … ab… ab… ab … aberration.”
“Like a true deity?” Billy asked.
The big man nodded. “He knows a true god is capable of performing real miracles. He needs to perform like one himself. How can he b … b… b… be a god? He’s out there looking for the truly miraculous.”
“He’s a sick fuck!” Hayes spat. “We don’t need to psychoanalyze him to know that.”
The clanging noise from above was getting worse and Billy’s frayed nerves were nearing their peak.
“All three of our guys are down and out now,” Mollie said, taking a turn to peer through the planks.
“I remember!” Billy said.
They all looked in his direction.
“A Caldurian shuttle’s plasma cannon has a very unique sound to it.”
“Did you leave someone on board a shuttle?” Mollie asked, excitement in her voice.
With a half-smile on his lips, Billy said, “Yup … the highly competent Lieutenant Polly. I guess she ignored my instructions to get the hell off this planet if we didn’t return soon.”
Chapter 47
Unknown Multiverse Realm
Crimon, Lower-world
__________________________
As the noise above them became deafeningly loud, the rhino-warrior jolted upright. His lidded eyes scanned his surroundings as he looked around for his heavy hammer.
Boomer said, “Traveler … we need your help.”
His gaze turned toward Boomer. As recognition took hold, once his eyes could focus, Traveler got to his feet and snorted a misty snot-plume into the air. “What do you need of me?” he asked.
She pointed an extended finger. “You can break down that barn door … for a start.”
Traveler momentarily looked up, where the persistent clanging noise appeared to be coming. It seemed to infuriate him; he took four long strides and let loose with a weighty kick. The double-barn doors blew outward and off their hinges, landing some twenty feet away.
Boomer, the first to follow Traveler through the opening, didn’t hesitate. The guards were apparently now gone. She sprinted toward the group of men, who were taking turns kicking and stomping the team’s unconscious trio—Rizzo, Drom, and Jarial. From ten feet out, she launched herself feet first, using a rapid Kahill Callan spinning heel-kick attack. Taking devastating head shots, two Amish brutes dropped like sacks of sand. Traveler—joining in the fray—let loose with his huge, hubcap-sized fists. His strikes had the momentum behind them of a freight train. The thug’s numbers quickly thinned—dropping to the ground and never getting back up. Boomer moved aside, letting the rhino-warrior have his fight.
Whatever the townsmen were initially told had made them ruthless—the way they’d pummeled Rizzo, Drom, and Jarial within an inch of their lives. Perhaps told the three were murderers, or rapists—out to snatch their wives. But whatever it was, they were now getting paid back for their assaults by Traveler. She wondered, though, if the extreme, profound punishment being exacted by him was entirely justified.
Joining her, the others watched from the sidelines. Boomer noticed there was a common disgusted-looking expression on their faces as they witnessed Traveler bringing his club-like fist down, like a pile driver, onto the head of the last-standing Amish man, hit with such force that only his forehead and the crown of his head peeked out from the top of his shoulders—before he toppled over dead.
The onlookers stood in silence as Traveler spun quickly to the left and right—grunting his approval as he assessed his handiwork.
As a dark shadow loomed overhead, Boomer instinctively crouched down. To her utter surprise, a Caldurian shuttle was circling overhead—periodically firing from its plasma cannons. What they previously thought was vast, Earth-like blue sky above, was exhibiting, instead, several large holes and rents—exposing sections of the middle-world. Catwalks crisscrossed behind hanging, silk-like blue material, now shredded by plasma fire.
Billy waved his arms over his head and pointed to an open area to the left of the barn. Even before the shuttle eased down to the ground—the hatch began to open and the gangway was being deployed.
* * *
With Traveler doing the lion’s share of hefting, their three battered, still-unconscious comrades were laid, side by side, inside the shuttle’s rear cabin. A cacophony of gunfire noise soon intensified—fired down from various positions on the catwalks above.<
br />
Boomer didn’t wait for Billy to assume the copilot seat next to Lieutenant Julie Polly. He’d just have to come to terms, sooner or later, with her taking charge. Looking back, she saw him attending to Rizzo, the most seriously injured of the three.
Boomer nodded toward Polly, whom she didn’t know. After living five years on Harpaign, she didn’t know many of the Star Watch crew—specifically, those new to the Parcical. “Hey … thanks for the ride,” Boomer said.
Polly, as the shuttle sharply banked left—heading for a large gap above—answered, “Don’t mention it.” With a bemused smile, she asked, “So, where to?”
Gaining speed, the shuttle shot upward, into the dark, middle-world layer; moving past the now splayed-open fabric, where gnarled and twisted catwalks were exposed. Obviously, where Polly breached both the outer- and middle-world layers. In a few moments, the shuttle reached the hazy sky above, rising into the upper-world atmosphere.
Boomer said, “Head back toward the way you came here … the Glist tunnel.”
“That was closed down soon after we arrived,” Polly said.
“Yeah, but I have a feeling it’s open again. Now that we’ve provided the three effigies … inserted the three keys … Dasticon can undoubtedly reestablish, or open, that bridge pretty much at will. But hurry. I’m not sure how long it will stay open this time.”
They sat in silence for several minutes, when Polly said, “We’re approaching the coordinates … where the tunnel should be.”
Boomer sat forward in her seat, scanning the near horizon. All she could see were more of the same rusted tangle of pipes and various air-conditioning units.
They both spotted it at the same time. Like a wavering heat thermal in the middle of a desert, the distant pale-blue Glist tunnel was disappearing before their eyes.
Boomer, noting Polly easing-up on the throttle, exclaimed, “No! Gun it!”
Polly did as told. The sudden acceleration slammed Boomer’s head back against the headrest. G-forces forced those in the main cabin to lose their footing and Boomer heard several yelps and groans.
Glory for Sea and Space (Star Watch Book 4) Page 26