Dawn Arrives

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by Michael Anderle


  But for once not feeling like an outcast.

  QBS ArchAngel II, Orbiting Earth

  The next morning, still awash with mixed emotions about his adventure, Giles settled into one of the smaller meeting rooms he’d commandeered for his books and study.

  He’d spent much of the morning researching, which actually meant staring vacantly at the wall between multiple cups of coffee.

  He was compos mentis enough to ensure that he at least sat with his back to the door so no one would see how unproductive he was being if they happened to walk past.

  This afternoon he’d been a little more productive in the thirty minutes he’d been actively applying himself. Having found nothing specific in the most likely books, he had managed to find some general references to certain artifacts that had been found in prominent places.

  Mostly in various tombs across the Loop galaxy. Plus he’d found a few crackpot theories in the archives which suggested that this unphotographed artifact may have originated someplace as yet unexplored by the Empire.

  He sighed and sat back in his chair, his mind wandering to the events of the previous day. It seemed almost surreal to be back aboard the ship with all the creature comforts: caffeinated nectar, hot showers, and ionized air conditioning.

  Somewhere in his subconscious he was aware of high-heeled boots striding down the corridor, although his conscious mind was far too distracted to pay attention to the sound. He leaned forward, grabbed his coffee mug, and brought the soothingly hot liquid halfway to his lips.

  BANG! BANG!

  Someone knocked on the door and he turned, cup in hand, to see the Empress herself looking at him.

  He nearly jumped out of his skin.

  “Knock, knock,” she said, granting herself access to his hideaway. “Mind if I come in?”

  It was clearly a statement rather than a question, because she was halfway through the door before he found his voice.

  “Er, yes. I mean...of course,” he stuttered, slopping his hot coffee on his lap and then setting the cup down, trying not to yelp or make a big deal of the molten liquid scalding his groin and splashing on the open book in front of him.

  “Heard about what you did yesterday,” Bethany Anne said. “Good job.”

  Giles’ eyes nearly popped out of his head and he started to choke with shock at the comment, and indeed the compliment, from her Highness.

  “You ok?” she asked, a smile creeping across her lips.

  She knows goddamn well the effect she has on people, especially boys. Men, he corrected himself firmly.

  He finished coughing. “Erm, yes. And thank you.” He awkwardly pushed his glasses back up.

  Bethany Anne glanced around the room, clearly amused. She perched herself on the table inches from where he’d set down his coffee mug.

  Giles reckoned that if he were to reach for the handle right this moment he would probably end up brushing his hand against her thigh.

  And that would be a very, very baaaaad move, he decided quickly. Not that he was thinking of doing it. It was just... It felt like one of those random, compulsive thoughts, like seeing a car wreck in one’s mind and hoping it would never happen.

  Not that he wouldn’t, you know, love to... Just. Stop. THINKING! he scolded himself.

  He glanced back up at her to see a certain amusement in her eyes. That was when he realized…

  SHIT. She’s reading my motherfucking mind!

  Her eyes rested on the stacks of books on the table and those scattered in front of him. “So what are these for?” she asked, tilting her head.

  “Well, they’re research,” he said, not being able to resist smiling despite feeling like a goon.

  “Which you dragged onto my ship, taking up extra weight, and have to transfer to your next ship.”

  “Right.”

  “Giles, why the fuck do you carry books?”

  Giles played along and pretended to look confused. “Well, er, they have information in them.”

  She shook her head. “Academics and books.” She sighed. “They come as a package, like hipsters and condescension.”

  She moved toward the door, causing a flood of relief through the young space archeologist’s system.

  “Oh…” She turned back. “Just one more thing.”

  “Uh huh?”

  “The talisman you...separated...from the rest of the Sacred Clan boxes. Make sure you tell my dad about it, understand?”

  Giles spluttered, “Yes. I mean, yes. Yes, of course.”

  Her eyes flashed red and Giles thought he was going to wet himself. He pushed his chair back again, terrified, his hands up in front of him. “I swear. Of course I will! I was just—”

  “Researching it, I know,” she said simply, her eyes back to normal. “You might also want to mention to him that you’ll need an upgrade. Can’t have you doing your archaeological-civilization-saving thing and falling prey to malaria or whatever shit goes on out there.” She paused a moment. “Or advanced amounts of alcohol.”

  She’d already turned her back and was almost out of the room. “And remember next time that you have a team and comm for a reason. Use them.”

  And with that she left, the sounds of her high heels moving down the hall signaling her departure.

  Giles exhaled and then sat depleted in his chair, as if he hadn’t already been a wreck before Bethany Anne’s visit.

  When his world stopped spinning he realized that not only did he need to pee badly and he’d been holding his breath, but also that his skin was covered with sweat.

  He glanced at the slopped coffee and dozens of disheveled books. “Holy fuckwipes of a Yollin’s pancreas,” he muttered under his breath.

  That should be creative enough for her.

  He slowly got to his feet. Restroom, then water, then shower...

  And then if he was still in shock, he fully intended to check himself into Sickbay.

  Her words were still ringing in his ears: “Your archaeological-civilization-saving thing.” He filed it away for later, too confused for it to sink in.

  He wandered out of the room with the back of his right hand to his forehead, hoping he didn’t die of stress before he managed to get an upgrade. Otherwise his academic biography was going to be very, very short.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Outside Earth’s Atmosphere

  Bethany Anne’s ambassadorial ship, little more than a luxury shuttle, departed the ArchAngel II followed by a squadron of fighters flying cover for the Queen as Bethany Anne, Akio, and Michael transferred to a Defender-series destroyer.

  They needed the heavy-lifting capabilities the War Axe could provide if they were to free the trapped Queen’s Elites in Japan.

  As soon as the shuttle entered the landing bay, the destroyer pointed its nose toward the planet and headed into the upper atmosphere. It skipped and bounced during its steep descent as it streamed fire.

  The captain had discussed the best way to inform those on the planet that the Etherians had had enough of some of the bullshit that had been tossed at Bethany Anne’s people in the last few days.

  Half the world saw the harbinger flaming through the sky.

  The War Axe raced through Earth’s sky at a speed in excess of Mach 30.

  The ship slowed and dropped off Akio’s Pod as it worked its way around the main island of Japan, making sure everyone saw the might of the ship.

  The War Axe approached the Pod hovering a half-mile above the collapsed building Akio had protected for the past hundred and fifty years.

  Eight stories under some hundred-thousand tons of rubble, six Elite warriors awakened from the deep sleep which had helped slow their aging. They had been buried inadvertently back when chaos ruled the world.

  The time right after the WWDE, and Akio could not have saved them without risking their lives.

  So he had waited. With infinite patience, Akio, Yuko, and Eve protected both their world and their team to keep the world from destroying itself.
>
  They had almost failed.

  But Akio had found help. Former Marine Terry Henry Walton and his werewolf partner-wife Charumati had joined forces with the Queen’s Bitch to drag humanity back to civilization, a hundred and fifty-plus-year effort.

  The War Axe descended, slowing as the gravitic engines surged to control the bulk of the ship. Akio directed the ship to the building, and then his Pod moved back.

  The Defender-series destroyer had the Etheric Empire’s latest traction to tractor-beam technology. Using all the power available to it, the ship latched onto the building and picked it up en masse.

  The beam held the rubble of the destroyed building together as the ship slid sideways and dumped it into a clear area beyond.

  The Japanese government had already given permission, otherwise it might have taken a bit longer. Yuko, the Diplomat, had told them in no uncertain terms that this would be happening, and that any effort to stop it would be deemed an act of war.

  You didn’t attack a mercy mission.

  Akio’s Pod, a small and boxy ship to shuttle troops and equipment from planet-side to orbit, swooped above the hole and stopped in mid-air, then dropped. A hundred feet down the Pod settled, and the rear ramp dropped.

  Six vampires were waiting. Their clothes were old, largely just rags after more than a hundred and fifty years.

  Akio stepped out and bowed deeply to his fellows.

  “It has been too long,” he told them.

  “Hai!” one of them said with a big smile. They hurried silently and anxiously onto the shuttle, as if a delay would condemn them to be buried anew.

  Akio acknowledged that everyone was on board and the shuttle lifted gracefully out of the hole and headed toward the mighty ship above.

  Bethany Anne was waiting.

  San Francisco, Western Shore, Old United States

  Terry Henry Walton, TH to his friends, stood tall and proud, his black Force de Guerre uniform crisp. His werewolf wife Charumati watched him, her eyes sparkling purple in the morning sun. His people were anxious, excited, and afraid. None of them knew what to expect, and they all had different ideas.

  A massive and fantastic vessel approached from the west—from Japan—just like Akio had told him it would.

  TH caught Char’s wince out of the corner of his eye. He reached for her hand and looked adoringly into her purple eyes, as he often did, and asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “So many from the UnknownWorld feeding off the power of the Etheric,” she replied, crows-feet appearing around her eyes as she fought the pain.

  Joseph and his wife Petricia stayed close to Terry, as he’d asked them to do. It was his turn to protect them; payback for all the times they’d had his back. Joseph and Petricia were Forsaken, but they were different. They refused to drink human blood.

  Terry Henry and these two Forsaken had fought side by side. TH considered them his friends, and would stand by them during the introductions to make sure nothing went wrong.

  To the best of his ability and beyond for his family and his friends.

  Joseph had joined Char’s pack well over a century earlier. As the werewolf pack’s Alpha, she had vouched for the Forsaken as she’d vouched for the weretigers in the pack.

  It wasn’t a normal pack, but nothing about TH and Char’s life could have been considered normal anymore. Terry Henry had worked with Bethany Anne in the far distant past, but would be a minor blip at best in her memories.

  He wasn’t sure she would recognize him or remember the stray moment in time their paths had crossed. How important would that time be, which had happened here on Earth, compared to the rest of her experiences in the universe beyond?

  Terry Henry considered who was on that ship.

  Bethany Anne and Michael, the universe’s answer to justice. For Bethany Anne, it was simple. She hated bullies, and seven of the Kurtherian clans were comprised of bullies. When they collided with Bethany Anne, the very stars shuddered at the impact.

  The Kurtherians of the Seven she had encountered had lost, because humanity would not be denied and mankind’s champion refused to lose. The love of her life would be waiting for her, Bethany Anne believed, but first she had to survive and return to Earth.

  And now she was back.

  She was back with Michael by her side, and the universe breathed a sigh of relief.

  The War Axe descended slowly, regally. They had cleared the transshipment area of the wharf for the ship to land, but had underestimated the vast proportions of such a vessel.

  “This ship is not that big compared to the ArchAngel,” Terry said excitedly to no one in particular. Next to him, Char clenched her jaw as she struggled with the energy flows of those aboard the ship.

  Terry looked at the assembled group of his friends and family and nodded.

  Most didn’t notice.

  Marcie winced and gasped. Marcie had been gifted nanocytes from her mother, Felicity, who was one of the enhanced.

  Felicity was nearby, holding the hand of her werewolf husband, torn between watching the ship and comforting her daughter. She chose the latter, moving close and draping a protective arm over Marcie’s shoulder.

  Felicity and Marcie were both raving beauties with blonde hair, blue eyes, and lithe bodies. Felicity was a socialite, but Marcie had chosen a different path. She had found her niche. She was a warrior’s warrior, the deadliest of the deadly.

  Terry and Char’s adopted daughter Kimber put a hand on her brother Kae’s arm. The family had always been close. More than a century had passed, but time didn’t matter.

  Family did.

  Charumati’s pack was there as well. Standing farther away from the ship, and well away from the vampires.

  Sue, Timmons, Shonna, and Merrit shuffled impatiently. The mated werewolf pairs fought for their alpha and their friends.

  The weretigers, Aaron and Yanmei, were relaxed in the company of the werewolves. The pack had been together for a long time. It had been exactly one hundred years since Yanmei joined.

  Ripples across the Etheric were hitting the most sensitive of them like waves hitting a beach.

  A lower hatch on the ship opened and a stairway unfolded to the pavement. All eyes were on the ship, and the person who started to walk out.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Akio was the first person to step out.

  Terry exhaled heavily. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath. Char released his hand and wiped the sweat on her pants.

  She moved closer and wrapped her arm around Terry’s waist, and he kissed the side of her head. When he looked back at the Pod, Akio had been joined by six other vampires.

  Char recoiled as they approached. Terry had guessed that they were the Queen’s Elites who had been trapped when an earthquake dropped a building on them during WWDE.

  Now he was sure.

  Akio stopped, and the Elites fanned out behind him. Akio bowed deeply to the Colonel and his lady—more deeply than he ever had before.

  Terry and Char returned the bow at a perfect ninety-degree angle, and their children, who were ranged behind them, did the same.

  Akio stood up straight before approaching and shaking hands with Terry and Char, a smile on his face and a glint of humor in his eyes.

  Was that a real glint of humor, TH wondered, or was he seeing things?

  Akio waved to the people standing with the Colonel.

  A group left the Pod, strolling casually toward TH and Char. The Elites stepped aside, creating a corridor through which they could pass.

  A dark-haired beauty walked at the side of a man who wore a long black coat and a black hat.

  His eyes took in everything while remaining focused on Terry Henry.

  They stopped before passing the last of their vampire escorts. The woman’s eyes flashed red as she glanced from one face to the next, lingering on Joseph’s.

  TH stepped forward, which drew the attention of the Elites. Their hands seized pistol grips and sword hilts, but
he held his hands up.

  The man chuckled silently and the woman smiled crookedly, practically rolling her eyes at all the posturing before she focused on the man in front of her.

  “We’ve met before, Empress,” Terry Henry said. He dropped to one knee and bowed his head before continuing. “I’m sorry. Akio asked us to help him prepare this world for your return, but I failed him. I failed you.”

  Char stepped forward and put a hand on her husband’s back.

  Her eyes glistened. This was supposed to be a joyous return, but TH, as he always did, took responsibility for everything—whether in his control or not.

  Empress? TOM asked.

  I’ll deal with telling everyone I’ve gone back to “Queen” some other time. It always becomes a long-assed discussion on the Federation and my proclivity to recoil from that title. That’s how they know me for now. I’ll switch it later.

  Bethany Anne shook her head. “Cut the ‘Empress’ bullshit, Terry. I remember you from the Antarctica operation.”

  She raised her voice to make sure everyone heard her as she tapped a finger to her lips. “You were hypothermic, if I remember correctly, before we put you in the Pod-doc.”

  She looked around before continuing, “My name is Bethany Anne, and I’d like to introduce Michael.” She glanced past everyone, taking in the sights and sounds of San Francisco. “Things look pretty damn good from where I’m standing, TH.” She turned to the purple-eyed woman next to TH and winked. “And you must be Char.”

  Bethany Anne held out her hand, with no hint of subterfuge. She stage-whispered, the humor obvious in her face, “Trust me, behind every strong man is a strong woman.”

  There was a snort behind Bethany Anne, who caught the slight glint of amusement in Char’s eyes from Michael’s unspoken retort.

  Bethany Anne rolled her eyes. “Oh for fuck’s sake, stand up, TH! You’re making me feel weird.”

 

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