The Betrayal of Ka (The Transprophetics Book 1)

by Shea Oliver

  The Betrayal of Ka

  The Transprophetics

  Book One

  By

  Shea R. Oliver

  Copyright © 2015 by Shea R. Oliver

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Colorado Sky Media, LLC

  1067 S. Hover Street, Suite E-179

  Longmont, CO 80501

  www.ColoradoSkyMedia.com

  ISBN 978-0-9968231-0-4

  This is a work of fiction derived solely from the creative mind of Shea R. Oliver.

  All names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are products of the author’s overly active imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual business, places, events or incidences is purely coincidental.

  Editing by Nancy Pile

  Cover design and artwork by Estefano Burmistrov

  For Michael and Brandon

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1 Moment of Decision

  Chapter 2 A Hidden Transprophetic

  Chapter 3 A Life Goes Dark

  Chapter 4 Vegetables

  Chapter 5 Lead, Follow, or Die

  Chapter 6 Effective and Efficient

  Chapter 7 Ascension of the Protégé

  Chapter 8 A Neighbor in Need

  Chapter 9 It’s About Who You Know

  Chapter 10 Paying Your Debts

  Chapter 11 The First Move

  Chapter 12 Welcome to the Darkness

  Chapter 13 Turkey on the Beach

  Chapter 14 Cogs in the Machine

  Chapter 15 A Dynasty of Power

  Chapter 16 Compassion in the Darkness

  Chapter 17 The Truth behind the Mask

  Chapter 18 A Painful Way to Meet

  Chapter 19 A New Direction

  Chapter 20 Mission Clarity

  Chapter 21 Set Up to Fail

  Chapter 22 Revealed

  Chapter 23 To Become a Killer

  Chapter 24 Lost Love

  Chapter 25 Tacos and Tennessee

  Chapter 26 An Illusion of Compliance

  Chapter 27 A Question of Perception

  Chapter 28 An Honorable Farewell

  Chapter 29 A Nightmare Begins

  Chapter 30 Once a Coward

  Chapter 31 Lost in the Mountains

  Chapter 32 Lords of the Fourth System

  Chapter 33 Master of Illusions

  Chapter 34 A Flower from Heaven

  Chapter 35 No Peace in the Mountains

  Chapter 36 Revelations of Truth

  Chapter 37 Brainwaves

  Chapter 38 Actions and Consequences

  Chapter 39 Duty-Bound

  Chapter 40 Defending the Nation

  Chapter 41 The Clarity of Truth

  Chapter 42 View from the Duck Blind

  Chapter 43 In the Path of the Medicine Men

  Chapter 44 A Secret to be Kept

  Chapter 45 And Now it Begins

  Chapter 1

  One Moment ~ One Decision

  Kadamba Vorhoor kicked his feet up on his desk in the back of the classroom. The smug look on his face seemed to spread to his entire being. In two days, the school year would be over. After that, he only had one more year of required schooling, and then he’d have full adult and citizen rights.

  Here in Stujorkian City, the capital of Lamaratia, on the planet Koranth, he would have plenty of options. He came from a good family. Perhaps he’d go on to further education. It was expected of him. His academic performance had been above average, but right now, he didn’t care so much about that. He only had one thing on his mind—Jundana Kohart.

  She was stunning in every way. Her dark skin was radiant. Her hair was long and silky, always perfectly framing her high cheekbones and piercing, dark eyes. She had a sleek, athletic build from running track, and every movement she made was graceful, and somehow both delicate and strong at the same time. Kadamba, who usually went by the shortened version, Ka, wondered if there was ever a more beautiful creature on the entire planet of Koranth.

  Only two hours before, Jundana had bumped into Kadamba in the cafeteria. The box containing her drink had flipped through the air, managing to somehow land perfectly upright on Kadamba’s tray. Unfazed, he simply smiled in her direction.

  “Nice shot,” Kadamba said, trying to sound as charming as he could, “It seems we must’ve been destined to run into each other like this today . . .”

  “Sorry, Ka, I didn’t mean to bump into you. And seriously—you’re not that smooth,” she replied with a smile.

  “No need to apologize,” Kadamba responded, handing her drink back. “You ready for tomorrow’s test in Lormate’s class?”

  “I’m about as ready as I’ll ever be. I think he just enjoys watching us suffer.”

  “You got that right. No way he even begins to care about us. He just wants to drag us through his class and make sure we suffer.” Looking at her, Kadamba realized that the time was right. He’d always liked Jundana, but being so close to her was more intense than he’d expected. Trying to act as casual as he could, he shrugged. “He’s just a jackass, and we’re outta here in a few days.”

  “Yeah, that’s the truth,” she agreed.

  “So, you want to chill on Schmarlo’s Landing sometime?” He hoped that he hadn’t sounded too desperate. Every nerve in his body was fighting not to wince as a response began to form on her lips. He was certain that he was about to get rejected and squashed by this beautiful creature.

  “I’d like that. You wanna go today after school?”

  “That’s perfect. I gotta little business to deal with first, but I’ll meet you there.”

  As Jundana walked away, Kadamba realized he wasn’t breathing. As the air came rushing back into his lungs, he almost shouted out loud, but under his breath, he spoke softly, so that only he could hear, “I’m gonna rock your world, girl.”

  *****

  “Mr. Vorhoor! Get your feet on the floor and walk them to the front of this classroom, now!” Mr. Lormate barked at Kadamba, shaking him out of the wonderful reliving of his fateful encounter with Jundana.

  Kadamba rolled his eyes back in his head, relishing the thought that he would only have to deal with this jerk of a teacher for a couple more days. He let his feet slap hard on the shiny surface of the floor. He tilted his head, lifting his chin higher and rotating his neck. The vertebrae in his neck popped loudly, and he rotated his head the other way, sending out another series of cracks.

  Mr. Lormate glared at Kadamba and swept his hand across the podium, tapping his fingers in a rehearsed pattern. From the dull, institutional-grey wall behind him, a three-dimensional image of a bargabuko, a toad-like creature that covered most of the tropical belt of Koranth, began to appear. The nasty, little, puss-dipping, foul-smelling creatures were the bane of every teenage science student across the planet. At least this one appeared to be visual-only, a holographic one.

  The image of the bargabuko began to grow in size and move outward from the wall. Then the smell hit the students full-on. This one was more than just visual-only. A holographic lab table began to rise up from the floor next to the podium, where Mr. Lormate sat on a stool, like an emperor gazing over his subservient peasants. The bargabuko grew twenty times larger than a real one and landed with a splat on the table. It bellowed out a croak
that seemed like a hundred times louder than the creature’s true croak, followed by its annoying belching sound and a spray of blue-green puss that landed on the students in the front row.

  Sorenha Woohurra screeched as the puss hit her in the chest. As always, she was dressed impeccably, in a tight-fitting, one-piece pink outfit, with frills ruffling out from her waist, a style in vogue with current music celebrities. Curhuck Lhahnid cussed under his breath as he wiped the sticky, blue-green puss from his cheek. No one in the class could stand Mr. Lormate, and having the bargabuko generated in a full holographic reality furthered every student’s distaste for the teacher.

  Mr. Lormate’s teeth began to show in a crooked smile as he raised his gaze from Sorenha to Kadamba. “Well, Mr. Vorhoor, do you just plan to let this bargabuko decorate your classmates with its saliva, or will you get up here and dispatch it for us? You are so relaxed back there that I have every confidence that you can open the specimen and identify each part of its respiratory system for our illumination.”

  Kadamba rapidly tapped on his desk with his fingers, wanting to get this over as quickly as possible. A shape like a knife began rising from the desk. His hand went to the handle of the blade, with his forearm hiding the blade’s size. He grasped the handle, keeping the large blade out of sight. The correct protocol was to generate a surgeon’s blade, slice the animal’s throat, and then dissect the creature. But not today.

  Kadamba was tired of Mr. Lormate’s nasty, arrogant, and superior attitude. The blade in his hand was more like a jumbo military knife. Kadamba’s fingers felt comfortable in the form-fitted handle. The tip of the blade grazed near the elbow on the inside of Kadamba’s forearm, as he strode towards the front of the classroom. Kadamba didn’t care if what he was about to do would get him in trouble. He was on cloud nine. He had a date with Jundana in a few hours, and school break was only two days away. This would be worth it.

  Two strides from the podium, he raised his hand above his head, revealing the deadly weapon. The expression on Mr. Lormate’s face was beyond epic. The teacher’s jaw dropped, slightly to the left, with his chin pulling back towards his neck. His eyes doubled in size. Kadamba could only hope that the putrid smell in the room was rising not only from that nasty bargabuko, but also from the mess that he hoped the teacher was making in his pants.

  With his final stride to the table, Kadamba brought his arm down quickly and as strongly as he could. He tensed every muscle in his core, even pulling himself slightly into a squatting position to drive the point of the knife squarely through the center of the bargabuko’s skull. The thud was deafening as the creature’s chin slammed into the table, driven downward by the intensity of the stroke. The blade guard of the knife was partially crushed into the top of the bargabuko’s head, and the blade of the knife had driven clean through the head of the animal with its tip sticking out from the bottom of the table.

  Mr. Lormate’s expression changed from shock to outrage almost instantaneously, but as he opened his mouth to scream at Kadamba, the classroom erupted in a chorus of cheers, shouts, and laughter. Slamming his hand onto the podium and pounding it a few times, with his face turning from a deep red to almost blue, Mr. Lormate glared at Kadamba. The bargabuko, its spattered blood and puss, the lab table, and even the horrid odor—disappeared. The classroom became silent as the teacher stood from his stool, his face hardening even more.

  “Mr. Vorhoor.” The words hissed through Mr. Lormate’s clenched teeth. He looked down at the podium and tapped his fingers very delicately. The wall behind him shimmered as it changed from a dull grey to a semi-translucent surface. A door-sized opening appeared, and a bright red line began to glow on the floor leading away from the classroom. The teacher’s gaze met Kadamba’s, and Kadamba knew he had probably gone too far. “Goodbye, Mr. Vorhoor.”

  *****

  The school’s superintendent had gone easy on Kadamba. After all, only two days were left in the school year, and even the faculty and staff thought of Mr. Lormate as an ass. He would have to spend two extra days at school, helping clean up the campus and preparing it for the break. Not even really a serious punishment.

  Kadamba walked out of the school and onto the wide, translucent pedestrian walkway some twenty stories above the ground. Living in the capital of Stujorkian City, a metropolis with more than 135 million residents, was all that Kadamba had ever known, and it was home. He loved the wide, towering buildings of the central city, many stretching nearly two hundred stories into the sky. Like all major cities, the free transportation system was efficient and vast. He could wander and explore for hours on end. The pedestrian walkway spanned most of the central city. Below the walkway was a system of suspended, high-speed shuttle trains. Once the shuttle trains left the city, they dropped to ground level and fanned out into the vast plains that made up the metropolis.

  On almost every corner of every block in the central city stood lift platforms that dropped to ground level from the pedestrian walkway. Adjacent to every platform was a wide, open staircase, leading to Stujorkian City’s sub-city. The sub-city, nearly as large as the central city itself, burrowed over forty stories below the ground. Warwon’s Deli was Kadamba’s destination. The deli sat thirty stories below ground in a vast shopping plaza of narrow streets. While much of the sub-city was well-lit and open, Warwon’s Deli was at the end of a poorly-lit, narrow street, in a part of the sub-city that someone like Kadamba should honestly try to avoid.

  Kadamba took a deep breath, tried to put on the coldest, most intense face that he could, and began walking towards the deli. It was just like many delis. There was an open display of meats, cheeses, and other foodstuff that a patron could buy and take home. There was also a large display behind the counter that listed names, pictures, and prices of sandwiches and meals that could be prepared for takeaway. If you squeezed past the other customers, maybe you could find a table in the back too. Kadamba didn’t bother to order. Pushing his way through the cranky, ill-mannered customers, he headed to the table in the far back of the narrow shop.

  Two men, dressed in black, loose-fitting garb, played a card game at that final table. One of them wore dark glasses, despite that fact that it was already dark in the back corner of the shop. Neither looked up or acknowledged Kadamba as he approached. Here in Stujorkian City, weapons were prohibited. Only Corporate military were allowed to own or use any weapon that fired deadly projectiles, lasers, or energy blasts. In that dark corner of the sub-city, laws appeared to matter less. Kadamba could see the handles of guns protruding from the shoulder holsters, under the black jackets of both men. Kadamba stood silently at the table, hoping this would go well.

  “Looks like a little bargabuko found its way into the sewer,” one of the men remarked to the other, without looking up from his cards.

  “And it’s a damn pretty one too,” responded the other.

  “Oh, yeah, the Doctor, he likes them young and pristine. Sells better. Seems better. Thinks it’s lower risk.”

  The man without glasses cocked his head towards Ka, looking him up and down.

  “I’m here to see Doctor Z.” The words seemed to fall flat, sounding weak coming out of Kadamba’s mouth. Both men chuckled.

  “If you ain’t here to see Doc Z, standing there in your pretty schoolboy clothes, carrying a schoolboy backpack, then you’d be in for an experience that you don’t even know exists.” As the words oozed out of his mouth, the other man turned in his chair towards Kadamba. He slowly removed the glasses from his face and stared directly into Kadamba’s eyes. Inside, the teenager was terrified. He wanted to turn and run, but didn’t dare. With every bit of courage he could muster, Kadamba maintained the man’s gaze, repeating, “I’m here to see Doctor Z.”

  The wall behind the table began to shimmer and turned semi-translucent. Kadamba could see that the room behind the wall looked like a spacious family room, with large sofas, a few chairs, and a table in the back. Kadamba could make out the shapes of three men standing on the bac
k wall, looking as ominous as the two brutes sitting at the table. As an opening appeared in the wall, Kadamba knew that the man sitting comfortably on one of the large sofas was Doctor Z.

  “Glad to see you found my office,” proclaimed Doctor Z, as he stood up and walked to the opening. “Please, come on in, and let’s do a little business.”

  Kadamba stepped through the opening, and it vanished. When he looked back, the wall had transformed into a beautiful scene of a lake in the mountains.

  “You seem so nervous. Please have a seat, my young friend,” said Doctor Z, his words as smooth as silk. His smile seemed to simply ooze a sense of ease and comfort, but at the same time seemed to hide something menacing.

  “Thanks,” replied Kadamba as he sat down tensely on one of the couches.

  “I’m glad you found my office. We’re very comfortable and completely safe here, Ka. Do you mind if I call you ‘Ka’?” asked Doctor Z.

  “Okay,” replied Kadamba.

  “Good. Now that we’ve dispensed with the formalities—how’s your business?” Doctor Z inquired softly, but it felt more like a demand. All of the pleasantries and courtesy seemed to evaporate for a moment as Kadamba looked into the dark, piercing eyes of his host.

  This was Kadamba’s first time actually meeting Doctor Z. Only a few months before, Kadamba had been on one of his many solo trips exploring the sub-city, looking for choice, out-of-the-way places to knock back, without so many adult prying eyes. Schmarlo’s Landing was an awesome and popular place to hang out, but it was 118 stories up, and he always seemed to run into someone’s mom or dad or family friend. On top of that, once in a while, it was fun to go underground.

  A man who called himself Fuentes had walked up and sat down at the table where Kadamba was eating alone, in a vast open food court. At first, Kadamba was startled. A strange man in a strange place should set off warning bells galore, but Fuentes was smooth, smoother than anyone Kadamba had ever met. They chatted for a while, and Kadamba revealed more about himself than he ever should, but he didn’t even realize what he had done. By the end of the conversation, Kadamba had a small box in his hands.