The Esoteric Design

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The Esoteric Design Page 49

by A. R. Crebs


  “It’s a lovely picture,” James whispered, kissing her on the head. Looking at the small boy, he poked the screen. “Who’s that?”

  Aria hesitated, giving a small shrug. “It’s Troy.”

  “You consider him family?” James asked, chuckling.

  “I don’t know. Maybe he can be my brother someday. I always wanted a brother or a sister.”

  “Maybe, one day, you will be family.” Grabbing the digital book, he lifted Aria from off his lap and quickly strode into the kitchen area.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  James tapped on the side of the notebook and held it beside the refrigerator. Dragging his finger across the screen, he copied and pulled the image onto the cooler’s door. Smiling, he handed the notebook back to Aria. “Now I have a copy.”

  A small blush spread over the girl’s cheeks. Turning, she quickly ran to her bag, placing the notebook inside once again. The room was already dark, green and blue lights flickering from the advertisements outside. James quickly made his way into the room as well, waving on a side lamp.

  “It’s getting late. We should finish up your other homework,” he said.

  Aria frowned, wrinkling her nose.

  “Don’t make that face; it’s important.”

  Unenthusiastically, she made her way to the dining room table where an arsenal of weapons was laid out. Lifting one of the rifles, James made sure the magazine was out, the safety was on, and the chamber was empty.

  “Now, what’s this?” James asked, holding out the gun. With another hand, he picked up a couple shells of ammunition.

  Aria rolled her eyes. “That’s easy. It’s a bullpup Fernstal 300, tactical forward grip, red laser and night vision sights, equipped with SABO launcher and 30 cal. high-density, armor-piercing rounds.” She thought a moment with a finger on her chin. “Oh! And an extended mag with trace planters.”

  “Very good,” James said, smiling. “You’re going to be top in your class for sure.”

  Hopping on the balls of her feet, Aria grinned, asking for him to test her knowledge of another weapon.

  ‘Voom.’

  A rumble jerked Aria from her restful sleep. She hadn’t even realized she had dozed off. Lifting her head, her stiff neck ached at the sudden movement. She rubbed her skin from between her armor and helmet, trying to soothe the tight muscles. She looked at Troy, the man stretching out his legs as he must’ve fallen asleep, too. He turned his head, looking from behind his helmet’s lenses at the woman beside him.

  “We’ve reached Ives. Seems the weather forecast is in our favor today.” Aren’s voice called from over the intercom.

  “That is very odd,” Dovian murmured, standing from his seat to look out the cabin window. The man was shocked to see that Ives was bright and sunny, not a single cloud in the sky. It was the first time in thousands of years that this had occurred. This made the Sorcēarian anxious.

  “Looks like there’s no need for a HALO jump,” Aren said. “You want me to take her down?”

  “Pull her down. There’s a valley about 50 kilometers to the south. I take it this has stealth capabilities?” Dovian asked.

  “Yes, sir,” Aren affirmed.

  “Good; use all that you’ve got. Land about 5 kilometers away. If we’re lucky, Euclid won’t detect us, but I’m assuming he already knows we are here.” Dovian pushed away from the window, readying his staff as Aren flipped numerous switches. The Hawk hummed, its outside walls deteriorating visually as it took in the reflections of the blue sky, making it undetectable by both human eyes and radar. “We’ll walk the rest of the way.”

  Aria and Troy nodded, letting Dovian take the lead. This was his territory; he knew it best.

  After a few minutes, Aren had the Hawk landing effortlessly upon the land, the propellers smoothing the blades of tall grass to the ground. The cabin doors slid open. Aria, Troy, and Dovian quickly gathered their weapons and packs and hopped out of the Hawk 90.

  Aren quickly darted into the back, hollering from inside, “I’m coming with you, right?”

  Aria and the others looked back at the young man. He leaned out the Hawk, hand gripping the support bar. His posture was lax. In his other hand was an Air Force issued automatic pistol with auto-aim capabilities. Despite having a rookie appeal, his eyes were hardened and serious. He was ready to take the plunge.

  “No,” Aria and Troy quickly replied.

  Aren’s face fell, his brow wrinkling.

  “Aren, we need you in the sky. If something happens to you, we’re stuck,” Aria said.

  “…Okay,” the pilot hesitantly replied.

  “We’re not dealing with humans out here. I’m sure the Air Force hasn’t prepared you for anything like this. Not saying anything about your skills as a fighter, but we need you to be on the safe side, ready to pull us out at any moment,” Troy said, trying to do damage control.

  “What do you mean we’re not dealing with humans?” Aren asked with genuine curiosity.

  Aria and Troy exchanged equally confused looks.

  “What do you know about this war we’re fighting?” Aria asked.

  “The President didn’t say much. I was told it was a Black Book project. I assumed we were supposed to be sneaking into some private Cherno military base. They’ve declared war since Mr. Walten took over Elixis,” Aren explained. He noticed Aria and Troy’s looks of disbelief. Dovian stood with arms folded, looking at the sky in annoyance. “And that’s why they nuked Athenia…to get back at Mr. Walten.”

  “That goddamn bastard!” Troy kicked at a rock on the ground. Aria shook her head. “He’s lying to our people? Our own soldiers?!”

  “I’m not surprised,” Aria said. “He’s trying really hard to cover his tracks.”

  “Y-you mean, Mr. Walten’s lying?” Aren asked with surprise.

  Troy laughed. “That pompous, sadistic prick? When is he not lying? People always follow the dollar signs before they ever try to look at the truth.”

  “I’m afraid he’s pulled the wool over your eyes, Aren,” Aria said, eyeballing the irate Troy beside her.

  “But, what do we do?” Aren asked. “He’s sending the army out to Cherno as we speak. They’ve announced war on Cherno.”

  “Shit!” Troy cursed.

  “This would have been really helpful to know before we left Roma,” Aria said with agitation.

  Aren shrugged. “I assumed you knew!”

  “Walten’s been after our asses since we started this mission. He wants us dead. He’s trying to cover up his tracks by eliminating us,” she explained. “And now he wants to annihilate our allies as well.”

  “So…what exactly is it that we are fighting?” Aren asked nervously.

  Aria sighed. “It’s too complicated to explain. Here.” She strode to the man, clicking on her DNAIS. “This is a report I’ve been filing since we started. In it will be everything you’ll need to know about our current situation. After reading, you’ll understand why you’ll need to stick to the skies.” She pulled up the data and copied it into Aren’s DNAIS. The man’s eyes widened as the pages of documents flickered into his wrist, some revealing scary images of the creatures Aria had come across. “And it’ll make as a good backup in case something happens to us.”

  “What was that?” he asked, staring at his wrist.

  “Read it,” Aria ordered before returning to Dovian and Troy’s side. The pilot watched her with a frightened expression. “Get in the air, Aren. Mission starts now.”

  “R-roger!” Aren said, saluting the woman quickly before darting into the pilot’s chair.

  Dovian led the way through the tall grass. The Hawk 90 whirred as it lifted from the ground, the optics of the golden-browns from the grassy plain filtered into beautiful blues as it reached the sky. Quietly, as an invisible eye, Aren stayed in the air, watching his team travel toward the rocky valley a few kilometers away. It was going to be a long walk, but Aren could be at their destination in seconds if they needed
an emergency evac.

  As the pilot hovered in midair, hidden behind make-believe clouds, he reviewed the intel Aria had given him. He looked over the report in Cherno, images of the Brawlers and Brutes flickering on the screen.

  “Holy shit!” Aren sputtered.

  Apprehensively, he turned the page, looking over the report from Saray. A Spewer spun three-dimensionally from his wrist.

  “Holy shit!!” he whimpered.

  He continued turning pages, reading about the attack in Roma, the attack on the Underbelly and the conspiracy Walten and General Feyette were involved in, and the information on Euclid and Ivory. Finally, he came across the file on Gavin’s death.

  “Mr. Sigo…” Aren murmured. His teeth clenched tightly as he read the report. “They told me it was anti-aircraft missiles from Cherno.” Angrily, the young pilot punched the chair beside him. “Those damned bastards! After everything you’ve done for them over the years, this is how they repay you and your comrades? They are making a mockery of our lives!”

  Calming his fury, Aren slowly released his breath. This is why he wanted to be in the Air Force–to make a difference. And be damned if he was going to let a conspiracy like this get swept under the rug. He owed it to his fallen comrades, to Gavin, and, most importantly, to his grandmother and girlfriend who both lived in the Underbelly and were killed during the attack that was supposedly initiated by Saraian and Roman soldiers—the new allies of the Cherno forces, thus enemies to Fountains. Walten was simply trying to annihilate his competition through the use of lies, lies that the citizens and military thoroughly believed. Well, one thing was for sure, Walten wasn’t going to get away with this, at least, not while Aren was alive. He was going to make sure of that.

  A small beep alerted the pilot out of his daze. Looking out the window, three red circles appeared on the glass. They funneled in toward three dots on the horizon, pulling the image up closer as it zoomed in. Aria, Troy, and Dovian were getting close to their destination. Aren sat forward, closing the documents in his DNAIS. He had to be at his best. Leaning toward the dash, he stared in the direction of the valley with wide eyes, not daring to blink. His hands rested on either side of the control stick, ready to speed forward at any instant he was called in for help.

  Dovian crouched, hiding in a thicket. He sniffed and then wiped at his nose.

  “Sulfur,” he murmured. “There’s definitely an entryway in one of these caves.”

  Looking over the tall man’s shoulder, Troy noticed the dozens of holes that burrowed deep into the sides of the valley.

  “Any idea which one?” he whispered.

  “Not in the slightest,” Dovian replied, looking over his shoulder at the man.

  “Why are there so many of them?” Aria asked.

  “Dragon Valley. It is home to the reptiles that are indigenous to Ives,” Dovian said.

  “Sounds lovely,” the woman sarcastically stated. “Any reptiles we should be worried about?”

  “Only one.” Dovian, staying low, walked cautiously toward the cliff side. “And when you see him, you’ll know why. I’d suggest running unless you want to become its mid-afternoon snack.”

  “So, not only do we have demons to worry about, but we have man-hungry lizards on the loose,” Troy said, lacking enthusiasm.

  Dovian abruptly held up a hand, coming to a halt. “Quiet,” he mumbled.

  Aria and Troy slowed to a stop, looking straight ahead into the deep valley.

  From one of the massive caves came a single Roman robot. Its headdress bobbed with each step it took, the metallic feet stomping up clouds of dust. It walked toward the center of the valley and then paused, turning about-face. A loud siren sounded, a call from the machine, and from the other tunnels came the rest of the army, marching to fill up the base of the gorge. After a few minutes, the machines halted with a click of their heels, their backs to Dovian and the others. One after another, they all saluted and looked toward the left. From the center cave, the main artery of the system, a Brawler crawled on all fours toward the leading robot. It licked the machine, tasting the metal. Afterward, the monster stood upright, its large, clawed hands digging into the backside of the machine. The robot fizzled and beeped as the demon tore off its back paneling. Frantically, the Brawler unplugged a series of wires and reconnected a few. Shooting out a couple of sparks, the robot went dead, its knees bending slightly as its head drooped. The Brawler then shrieked and began to shake violently. After having what appeared to be a seizure, the creature dropped heavily onto the rock floor. It did not move.

  “What happened?” Aria asked quietly.

  Dovian’s eyes narrowed. He quickly pulled up his optical camera, zooming in on the beast’s body. From his eyes, he watched a pale haze of vibrations quaking in the monster’s place. The mist moved forward into the backside of the machine and disappeared. Giving a couple of mechanical beeps, the Roman soldier awoke once again and straightened in posture. Looking at its feet, it stomped with one foot forward and then another. Excitedly, the robot twitched and moved in a circle.

  “It’s inhabited the machine’s body,” Dovian said dryly.

  “You mean that thing is now living inside that robot?” Troy gawked. “Is that possible?”

  “Seems it is,” the Sorcēarian grumbled.

  “For what purpose? Why not just rewire them?” Aria asked.

  “I’m uncertain. Perhaps they are interested in the technology. They could be running tests,” Dovian said.

  “What kind of tests?” Troy questioned, watching as the general of the Roman soldiers giddily stepped from side to side, testing out the machine’s range of movement.

  “Your guess is as good as mine. Perhaps they are planning on using them as a sort of Trojan horse,” the robed man suggested.

  “Trojan horse?” The male soldier lifted an eyebrow from behind his helmet.

  Dovian gawked at the man. “Something associated with the origins of your name and you know nothing about it?”

  Troy looked at Aria who merely shrugged.

  Dovian palmed his forehead. “Troy was the name of an ancient city in the country that was at one time called Turkey. A war between Troy and the Achaeans took place there; it was called the Trojan War. Epic story told short, the Achaeans fooled the warriors of Troy by offering them a gift at the pretense of their packing up and sailing home. It was a giant wooden horse. Inside the horse were soldiers. Troy accepted the gift and pulled the giant horse into their walls, unknowingly allowing the enemy into their home. That night, while everyone was drunk and asleep, the enemy slipped out of the horse, opened the gates for the rest of the army, and attacked and burned Troy to the ground.”

  “Pretty epic,” Troy muttered. “What were they fighting for?”

  “A woman...” Dovian replied dryly, glancing at Aria. “Not the first time man ruined themselves because of a temptation.”

  “Dad always did say that a woman would bring about the ruin of man,” Troy said.

  “You have no idea,” Dovian chuckled.

  “Will you two shut up? Or a woman will bring about the end of your days,” Aria butted in.

  Dovian and Troy, momentarily distracted, straightened their postures as they looked upon the robotic army before them. The robot general called out to the other robots, telling them to remain at attention. Then it turned to the left and returned to the cave system the beast had originally come from.

  “I think I know which cave we should check out first,” Dovian remarked.

  Aria slipped to the side, her weapon in front of her. “Then let’s move out.”

  “Moving,” the Sorcēarian replied.

  Together, the three slid carefully down the side of the valley behind the Roman army. Dovian shielded his form with his staff, his body disappearing from sight. Troy and Aria did the same, messing with the configurations on their forearms. Their bodies swirled with rocky patterns and quickly vanished into the landscape. Slowly, with quiet steps, they entered the dark cave. For
a few hundred meters, the rocky cavern twisted and turned, lowering into the ground. The darker it got, the more Aria and Troy’s armor adjusted. Aria kept moving forward, staring straight ahead. A low, muffled grunt sounded from her as she ran into an invisible wall. A second later, another invisible force bumped into her from behind.

  “Whoa! Who put on the brakes?” Troy mentally asked.

  “Damn it, Dovian. Why’d you stop?” The woman glared ahead of her.

  “We are close. I can feel him,” Dovian whispered in her mind.

  “Euclid?”

  “Yes,” he hesitated, “and something is slightly amiss about his signature.”

  “What?” Aria asked, staring straight ahead in the darkness.

  “He seems to be in a very, very bad mood. Something very sinister is in this cave. In fact, I am unsure as to whether it is actually Euclid or not.”

  “What else could it be?”

  “I don’t know. Let’s go find out. There’s a light ahead.”

  Moving on, Aria stayed as close as she could tell to the Sorcēarian. She moved slowly, feeling Troy’s hand on her shoulder as he made sure not to lose her in the dark. After traveling a small distance, they came to a makeshift staircase made of slick rocks and broken stalagmites. Climbing up the steps, the three entered a hollowed-out chamber. Lining the rounded walls were giant torches casting an eerie pale glow within the cavity. At the back center of the room appeared to be a large makeshift throne. Flat black rocks lay on the ground, stacked by three. From the floor spiraled two giant stalagmites on either side of the chair. Another flat surface connected to them, creating armrests that joined to a giant rectangular back. It was a slightly unnerving sight.

  “Is this his throne room?” Aria asked quietly.

  “Appears to be,” Dovian replied in an equal volume.

  From behind the throne came a shuffling sound coupled with the tinkling of chains. Shooting out from behind the stone furniture appeared a head covered with curly blonde hair. Large blue eyes stared up fearfully in their direction. The woman looked from side to side anxiously.

 

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