Dusting his hands off on his khaki pants, Dynamos stood with a frown.
Raptor lifted an eyebrow. Dynamos never frowned, even in the worst situations. He always maintained a little smirk or at least something semi-positive. Raptor watched his expressions carefully for any sign of the corners of his lips turning upwards.
“I can’t defuse it,” Dynamos said in a soft, melodic voice that did not match his burly build or the screaming lime green shirt he wore that day. “It’s not a bomb—not exactly. Whatever’s in there, it’s not volatile, but it’s organic. There’s a lot of energy.”
“But an explosive is attached to it?” Raptor asked, still uncertain of the technicalities. Dynamos had discovered the bomb came in two parts: the outer protective cylinder and the inner core that housed the actual explosives.
“It’s enough to do some damage—maybe kill anyone standing next to it—but not Armageddon level stuff. If I try to separate the two parts, it goes off.”
A grunt came from behind Raptor. She glanced up at Godlin. He appeared as if he was about twenty years old, but she knew, as one of the original Keepers, his age was closer to two hundred.
“Clear everyone out and set it off,” Godlin suggested. He had dark umber skin and a black trench coat wrapped around his body.
“I don’t know what’s in the main chamber.” Dynamos motioned to the glowing cylinder. He reached up and ran his hand along the top of his head and down a long, thin rattail braid. “Could do anything if it’s set off wrong.”
“Is it a virus or a disease?” Raptor moved closer to the cylinder and peered into it. The liquid swirled around, like a blue snake curling over itself. She made a face, answering her own question, “No, that doesn’t make sense.” Containers filled with bacteria did not move on their own. She supposed it could be alive, but the movement could also be a property of the liquid.
Dynamos grinned. “I was about to say—”
“Hush,” Raptor grumbled, though it made her glad to see him smiling. As the Keeper of animals, if the contents had come from Earth, she could have identified it, even if it was a bacteria or slime mold, but this had her stumped. “If this thing’s alive, then it’s unlike anything we’ve ever seen.”
Godlin said, “Given both of you are struggling to identify it, then it’s likely from another dimension.”
“Makes sense.” Dynamos nodded, but scratched his head as if still pondering their options.
“So we get to deal with something made with God knows what, reacting to the properties of this universe only God knows how.” Raptor pinched the bridge of her nose.
“Thus the Stone of Power being our only option.” Godlin voiced what Raptor had been trying to avoid saying.
“I’d agree,” Dynamos said. “If someone designed it with the Stone in mind, then this energy source should be attractive to it. It should want to drain it.”
“Which is what the letter wanted us to do.” Raptor could feel Earth pressing on her emotions in the back of her mind. The new Keeper was close by; she could sense it. “Dynamos, you can’t do anything else here, why don’t you head on home?”
“Sure thing. Call me back if you need anything else.” He reached up to touch behind his ear where a tiny communication device was implanted. “Mouse.” Dynamos waited for a response.
Messages sent between Earth and Europa took a few seconds. Normally this would violate the speed of light, had they been sending the signal through normal space, but the Keepers cheated. They used a small dimension as a shortcut through the larger dimensions, reducing the distance traveled rather than increasing its speed. It was also how the Keepers traveled between Earth and Europa without always needing to use a spaceship. They called it “singular line dimension.”
“Bring me back.” Lowering his hand, Dynamos gave Raptor and Godlin a half grin. “Don’t get eaten.” He vanished with a faint pop as the portal to the other dimension closed. The sharp, tangy scent of ozone lingered in the air.
A gasp came from behind Raptor and Godlin. They turned around to discover a scrawny teenager wearing a pirate hat and doing a poor job of hiding behind a stack of boxes just a few feet away.
Chapter Two
Andrew froze as a woman with dark red hair and a black man wearing a trench coat turned toward him. His mind blanked on what to say. He pulled down on the hem of his shirt, straightening it out.
Andrew had stepped out of the hallway and around a stack of boxes just as a young man wearing an electric green shirt vanished into thin air. His heart quickened as his mind tried to reason with itself about where the green-shirted teenager had gone, but nothing he came up with made sense.
“Andrew?” Christine called out as she entered the hallway.
Before Andrew could say anything, the red-haired woman rushed forward and grabbed him. With a firm grip, she pulled him away from the hallway and behind another stack of boxes, clamping her hand over his mouth. His plastic pirate hat fell to the ground with a clatter. Andrew struggled to free himself. He kicked a foot out and sent several boxes crashing to the ground, getting Christine’s attention. Wrenching his mouth free of the red-haired woman’s grip, he croaked out, “Run!”
Christine did not hesitate, but the boxes hampered her movement. She tripped over one, nearly falling to the ground.
The red-haired woman spun Andrew around, pinning his arm behind his back. Andrew did not move as the woman used her other hand to check his pockets. She found a cheap cell phone in one of them and took it.
The stumble allowed the man in the trench coat to catch up to Christine. He grabbed her T-shirt from behind and gave it a tug. Christine’s feet went out from under her, and she fell backwards to the floor.
Andrew winced as Christine hit the ground so hard her rabbit ears went flying. His heart sank. She would not escape. Christine groaned as the trench coat man stood over her. He pulled out a long black dagger and pointed it down at her.
“Don’t fight,” he said in a grave whisper. Christine remained frozen in place as the trench coat man reached down and grabbed her by the wrist, hoisting her to her feet. He removed Christine’s purse from her shoulder and searched through it until he found a cell phone. He took the phone and threw the purse off to the side.
“I’m sorry,” Andrew said. “We didn’t mean to tip it over.” He had known he might get into trouble for knocking the cat over, but he had never expected to be attacked. As he tried to move, the red-haired woman pressed on his arm, and a sharp pain shot from his elbow up to his shoulder. Andrew stopped struggling, and she released the pressure.
“It was an accident,” Christine added, her eyes darting between the two.
Glancing over to the trench coat man, the red-haired woman said, “Ar Ketora kar talda.” She wiggled her fingers at the side of her head.
Christine cocked her head to the side as she raised her eyebrows, but Andrew had understood her. “He’s the Keeper we’re seeking,” she had said.
He had only a vague notion the strangers spoke a different language. He thought he had maybe misheard the woman and she had said something in English or Spanish, just with a thick accent.
The trench coat man responded in the same language. “Dar tan, en.” Andrew translated it to himself: “You’re certain?” Understanding became easier as they continued to talk, but he could no longer convince himself he had misheard their vocalizations. The language was different from anything he had ever heard, but he comprehended it as if he had spoken it his entire life. His jaw dropped.
When the red-haired woman started to talk again in the strange language, he tried to focus on what they said, hoping for some clues. “Yes, there’s no mistaking the feelings. Earth wants her,” she said, nodding to Christine, “to get the Quester Stone of Power.” The red-haired woman turned to face Andrew. “I’m going to let you go. Don’t run,” she said in English, taking a step away from him.
Spinning around to face his attackers, Andrew considered the woman. She wore a black T-shirt and
blue jeans and stood with most of her weight on one foot, her eyes locked on Andrew. He rubbed his elbow, even though it no longer hurt.
Andrew’s curiosity overrode some of his fears. “Who are you? What is going on?”
The red-haired woman grinned a little. “I’m Raptor; this is Godlin.” She motioned to the man in the trench coat. “Who are you?”
Andrew stammered out, “I, er, I mean, we’re … uh,” forgetting his own name for a moment. Raptor seemed familiar to him. He racked his brain, trying to place her face, but came up short.
“Don’t tell them anything!” Christine yelled, trying to pull free of Godlin’s grip. He shook her roughly. She went silent.
Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Andrew felt his throat tightening. Raptor and Godlin were strangers to him, yet he could not shake the feeling he knew them, or at least that he should know them.
“Let her go,” Raptor said to Godlin.
He shoved Christine toward Andrew and sheathed the dagger. Christine’s face paled, and a hand crossed over her stomach. She grabbed hold of Andrew’s hand and shifted part of her body behind him.
Feeling her hand trembling in his, Andrew gave it a squeeze.
Raptor inclined her head. “Andrew, right? I heard your friend calling for you from the hallway. Where’d you come from?”
“Well, Christine and I live just a few blocks—” Andrew started to say.
“They attacked us!” Christine yelled, clutching his shirt.
Andrew blinked rapidly. Had he met them before and just forgotten? Raptor felt the most familiar to him, but he did not remember anyone with red hair, nor anyone with a complexion as dark as Godlin’s. Knowing their names did not help. He would have remembered names like theirs.
“Have you sensed your powers?” Raptor asked Andrew.
“Powers?” Andrew asked in confusion. “Do I know you?”
Godlin moved closer to Raptor and whispered in their strange language, “Dal sejaria, a vala cud.” Andrew understood it as, “Something’s wrong, he should know.”
“Za cud.” She had said, “I know.”
Looking at Andrew, Raptor said in the same language, “You can understand me.”
Andrew’s eyes bugged out—caught in the act of eavesdropping. Raptor smirked at him as if guessing at what he thought. He swallowed hard and nodded.
Shifting her attention to Christine, Raptor asked in English, “And what about you? Did you understand anything we said?”
Christine jerked her head to the side. “Just let us go.”
“Seriously, what’s going on? Who are you?” Andrew asked.
“We are Keepers, Andrew, and so are you,” Raptor replied, tilting her head to the side, as if expecting him to do or say something.
Clearing his throat, Andrew said, “I don’t understand.”
“Keepers are the guardians of Earth, and it’s our duty to protect the planet … . None of this sounds familiar, does it?”
As she spoke, Andrew could feel his eyebrows rising higher on his forehead. “Not in the least bit.” He could not understand why she thought he should know anything about powers, or Keepers, or alien languages.
Raptor gestured to the cylinder. “Do you know what that is?”
Andrew’s stomach churned with unease, anxiety pulling at his chest. He felt as if a teacher had asked him a question he did not know the answer to. “No idea.”
“It’s a bomb, of sorts, and we’re trying to defuse it.”
Shocked, Andrew opened his mouth to reply, but Christine darted out from behind him and made a break for the hallway. He caught her by the arm.
“Wait, wait. It’s okay,” he said. “We can trust them.” His feelings were torn between thinking all of it was insanity and an innate curiosity to learn more. Unable to dismiss everything as a terribly annoying Halloween prank, he needed to understand why he could understand a new language, why a stranger felt so familiar to him, and what kind of powers he could possess.
“Trust them?” Christine slapped her forehead in exasperation. “We don’t know who they are! For all we know, they’re the ones who planted the bomb.”
“They aren’t trying to blow anyone up,” Andrew said, confident it was the truth.
“How do you know?” Christine asked. “All they said was gibberish. You’re the one who is always saying I’m too quick to trust people, but here you are asking me to believe strangers holding a bomb. What’s wrong with you?”
Christine was right. She made instant connections with people, not him. He was inherently a homebody, preferring to work on his personal projects, like his greenhouse or his chemistry set. He could spend hours working—content to sit amongst his plants, studying their brick-like cells under a microscope or performing experiments to discover chemotropism compounds to control their growth.
Andrew went blank. “I-I don’t know. Why do I feel like this?”
“Earth’s manipulating your emotions,” Raptor replied. “You should have an overwhelming urge to accept whatever crazy plan I have to stop the bomb.”
Unable to dispute her statement, Andrew rubbed his face with both hands. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Accept the mission,” Raptor said in a commanding tone.
The suggestion felt right. “I want to stop the bomb, so I’ll do it—whatever it is,” he said, resolving himself to the task. As soon as he made the decision, he felt the weight in his mind lift and evaporate like morning fog. Andrew sucked in a sharp breath of air as he felt more like himself again.
Christine grabbed onto his arm, steadying him. She gave him a worried look and then shot a nasty glare toward Raptor. “Stop! You’re hurting him.”
Holding her hands out, palms up in defense of her innocence, Raptor said, “It’s not me; that was Earth. He’ll be okay in a moment.”
“Yeah, it’s better now,” Andrew said. Wanting to reassure Christine, he smiled as his strength returned.
“You’re insane,” Christine said to Raptor. “How could a planet make someone do something?”
“Earth is a very old, very powerful entity called a Quester Stone. As its guardians, it’s able to influence us.”
“Like mind control?”
Shaking her head, Raptor touched her chin. “Earth is powerful, not cruel. It can’t force you to do anything. If Andrew doesn’t want to find out who he is, then you’re free to go.”
Godlin shot a glare at Raptor and then sneered. She glanced at him and shrugged. In response, he rolled his eyes and grumbled under his breath.
“Then we’re leaving.” Christine tugged on Andrew’s arm, leading him toward the hallway.
Andrew did not move. His eyes darted between Christine and Raptor—torn. “If I stay, what happens? You mentioned powers—what kind of powers?”
“I don’t know, but you’ll be like …” She paused as she rotated her hand in circles at the wrist, seeking a word.
“Like a superhero,” Godlin said, slipping his hands into the pockets of his trench coat.
Andrew grinned as he imagined the possibilities. Maybe he could become super strong and learn to fly, like Superman.
“Eh, I wouldn’t go that far.” Raptor glanced at Godlin. “Just different.”
“I get powers of some sort, and then what? Protect Earth with them from things like bombs?” Staring at the cylinder, Andrew felt dread rising from the pit of his stomach. If it went off, what could he possibly do to stop it?
Raptor replied, “Basically.”
Christine scoffed as she let go of Andrew’s hand and took a step away from him.
A hollow carved itself out of Andrew’s chest. His shoulders slumped as he gave Christine a pleading look. A yearning to know everything about the Keepers pulled at him, but he also did not want to ignore her desires. “I’ll help stop the bomb if you send Christine home.”
“We need Christine’s help too.”
“I say let the police disarm it,” Christine said. “You know, they do have
bomb squads you could call.” She wrinkled her nose as if this was an obvious solution.
“This bomb can’t be defused by normal means, or we’d have done it already.” Raptor then said to Andrew, “The person you saw leaving was the best of the best, and he couldn’t do it.” Her attention drifted back to Christine. “If we get the police involved, they might set it off accidentally. Our plan is to retrieve an object called the Quester Stone of Power. It can stop the bomb, but Godlin and I can’t pick it up. It will drain us of our powers, killing us. You don’t have any powers, which is why we need you.”
Christine was taken aback. “What about Andrew? Or someone, anyone, else?”
“If Andrew’s a Keeper, then it will kill him too. You’re already involved, and the more time we waste, the more likely someone will set this thing off by accident. The Quester Stone is the only way.”
Andrew gulped, dreading the idea of seeking something that might kill him. Yet he wanted to help and secretly hoped Christine would come with them. A worry that Raptor might force her entered his mind, but he did not believe she would hurt Christine to achieve that goal.
“Wait, I thought Earth was a Quester Stone,” Christine said.
“There’s a few different types of Stones; Earth is just a larger version. The Stone of Power is tiny by comparison,” Raptor said, cupping her hands as if holding a tennis ball.
“How many Quester Stones are there?” Christine leaned in closer, her eyes fixed on Raptor.
Butterflies churned in Andrew’s stomach, even though the overwhelming feeling of urgency had fled. He glanced around and breathed slowly in and out, trying to focus on what Christine and Raptor discussed.
“A bunch. We just need for you to get this one. That’s all. Afterwards, I’ll send you home, I promise,” Raptor said.
“I still have trouble believing any of this.” Christine swept her arm around the room, encompassing the entire scenario.
“Then let us show you our powers.” With a grin, Raptor reached into her pocket and pulled out a red ruby. It was about three inches long and as thick as a pencil—the ends cut to a point. She handed the stone to Godlin. “If you would, please.”
Stone of Power (Keepers of Earth Book 1) Page 3