Project Atlantis (Ascendant Chronicles Book 1)

by Brandon Ellis

  He moved over to her seat.

  She lifted her head, giving him a deathly stare. “No shit, Sherlock.” She wanted to cut him like he cut her every single night. The same dream. Every night.

  She couldn’t help it. Everything that came out of her mouth was fueled with hatred and fire. He’d left her to melt, to burn, to die. She wanted to strangle him on the spot, but something prevented her. Some deep, abiding drive; a drive so compelling, it felt like a mandate. Made no sense.

  If I touch him – hands around his neck, squeezing the trachea, breaking his hyoid bone, cutting off his air supply – the powers come back. She flexed her shoulders, fighting off a yawn. She didn’t want to appear vulnerable in front of him. It was too much, the exhaustion was going to win out. Maybe I could just shoot him. Close range, but no physical touch.

  She smiled. Her eyelids fell. She faded off to sleep.

  ∞

  Captain Fox stood next to Rivkah’s starfighter, several high-ranking pilots next to him. They saluted Rivkah as she inched the starfighter closer to the launch tube. She didn’t know if what she was doing was right, but she sure as hell knew that what the Secret Space Program was doing was wrong. They were destroying an entire civilization because they were greedy, power-hungry bastards, something she only thought corporations were capable of, not the military. Taiyo was chock full of gold, silver, crude oil, and minerals she’d never heard of that the Kelhoons and the Secret Space Program could profit from for hundreds of years.

  You live and you learn. I signed up to a lie.

  Rumor had it, Jaxx was defecting to the Taiyonian’s side. Rivkah convinced the Admiral that she was the only one who could change his mind. Her lie worked, just like their lies worked on her for years. Their lies didn’t work anymore.

  They trusted her to bring him back for court martial. They shouldn’t have. She had another plan up her well-armed sleeve.

  The launch tube’s exit opened. Taiyo stood a ways off in the distance, highlighted in a blueish-green hue. It was gorgeous, almost as beautiful at Earth.

  She accelerated, burning down the tube and out into space.

  In minutes, she’d be entering Taiyo’s atmosphere. She’d hail them, using her callsign. She crossed her fingers, hoping she’d be reaching Jaxx and he would tell them to stand fast; that she could be trusted.

  Her comm line beeped. “This is Richard.”

  Rivkah was on high alert. Fox didn’t drop his rank like that. The bastard was trying to be convincing. She didn’t flick her comm on. “I wasn’t born yesterday, you ballsack. You can’t schmooze me.”

  “Rivkah, hear me out. He’s a deadly pilot and he is changing the tide for them. You know the kind of damage he can do. Here’s what I’m thinking. When you’re alone with him, give him as much of you as you can. Then, when his guard is down, strike him dead.”

  Rivkah stared at her console. Fox really was an asshole of the first order.

  “You understand what I am saying, soldier? When he’s his most vulnerable go in for the kill.”

  “Are you asking me to seduce him, Captain?”

  “If that’s what you’re hearing, sure. Go for it.”

  “I’d be glad to. Out.” She gave Fox what he wanted to hear, but she had no intention of touching Jaxx in any sexual way. They were crew mates, buddies, friends. That shit was off-limits.

  She nosed her craft at forty-five degrees and turned on her anti-gravity generator, entering the wild Taiyo atmosphere, the flames grabbing for her starfighter’s nose. When the blaze died out, she leveled her craft. She clicked on her comm line to send a call out to Jaxx’s starfighter, but she’d dropped into a live dogfight, craft dodging and firing and blasting the almighty shit out of one another. Why hadn’t Fox warned her? Was it a set up? Were they trying to get rid of her, too? They had to have known.

  She pulled up, avoiding a Kelhoon fighter and spotted Jaxx immediately, flying like an expert dancer, downing Kelhoon pilots as if they were stationary targets. It was the same, every time she saw him in action: baffling and thrilling that he could be so fluid with his craft.

  She targeted a Kelhoon, blasting it with her IC’s, barreling through the flames. Her craft shook, ion bolts mixed with tracers zipped by her. She twisted and looped. The Taiyonians were after her.

  She made sure she was on Jaxx’s private channel, her breath fast. “This is Captain Rivkah Ravenwood. Lieutenant Kaden Jaxx, do you copy? Tell your guys to get off my ass. I’m on your team now.”

  She came out of her loop, seeing a Kelhoon craft in front of her. They still didn’t know she wasn’t on their side. She let loose two SSSRM-23 Slingers, blasting the Kelhoon into tiny, fiery pieces.

  Jaxx came around her six.

  “This is Rivkah. Jaxx, do you copy?”

  She banked wide, hoping Jaxx’s trajectory would cause him to swoop by her. He remained steadfast on her tail.

  Her cockpit lit up with weapons lock and her heart started pumping faster. He was targeting her. “Jaxx, this is Rivkah. Don’t shoot. I’m on your side.”

  He fired a slinger just as he came alive on her comm line. “Rivkah? That’s you? Pull up! Pull up!”

  She pulled back on her control stick, rising the nose toward the sky. Her starfighter shook violently and her holographic control panel went offline. She looked behind her, her ship’s tail was blasted apart and smoke trailed out of the back.

  Her craft bucked downward, then was caught in a spin, heading toward the heavy forest below. She punched her ejection booster. It didn’t work. She punched it again and again, gritting her teeth. “Open!”

  She kicked at the control panel. “Turn on you piece of shit. Don’t do this to me.”

  For a moment, the panel clicked on and her controls came back on line. She pulled back on her stick, but by this time the tail fire had burned away the tail elevator. She couldn’t get any downward flow to pull her Air Wing toward the sky.

  Her craft bucked, hitting the highest trees in the forest canopy.

  She punched the ejection booster and the cockpit window flew off, her seat following a second later. The parachute caught a tree, ripping apart before it had a chance to open. She fell alongside her starfighter, crashing through tree limbs until she walloped onto the forest floor.

  She bounced off the ground once, landing on her side, feeling her ribs crack, her leg break. With the air knocked out of her, she cringed in pain, crawling away from her craft with her arms and one useful leg.

  Her Air Wing was ablaze.

  She felt the heat from the craft, even as she pulled herself away from the wreckage. Finally, she realized it wasn’t her ship, or the broken bones that were burning. She was bloodied, on fire, her skin melting.

  She fell face-first on dry, smoking grass, her cheek and ear singed and still burning. She rolled and rolled, ignoring the searing pain lashing across her body. She groaned in agony as the ground extinguished the fire – the fire trying to turn her to ash, trying to take her soul.

  She crawled farther away from the crash, her left leg twisted in the wrong direction and the skin on her hands falling away, exposing tendons and muscles. Exhausted, her smoke-filled lungs fought against every breath, her broken ribs making it nearly impossible to breath.

  She couldn’t pass out or give in to the shock. She laid on her back, ready to die, but pressed her rescue beacon on her belt, doubting it even worked. Up above, through the broken canopy and in the blue sky, she could see Jaxx circling like a vulture.

  Rivkah bolted up. She gazed at her hands. They were normal. She touched her face. It was too smooth. She wasn’t this person, this normal-looking, unscarred person. She was a fighter, who’d earned her battle scars. She should have worn them like a badge of honor, rather than hiding herself away.

  No more.

  No more hiding, no more waiting. She was Rivkah Ravenwood and she was in charge of her destiny.

  She looked around. She was on a cot inside Cole’s dropship.

  And
there he was, his back to her, her attempted murderer. Jaxx.

  “Get off the controls. I’m piloting the rest of the way.”

  48

  June 10th, 2018

  Charlotte, North Carolina

  Drew had never met his darknetbuddies in person. They weren’t what you’d call people-people. But he’d convince “starwanderer3,” “jabberwockmyass,” and “bitemymegabite” to meet him. They, like Drew, were of the “what are shoelaces and why should I tie them?” class of nerdery. But they’d been at their computers, studying the world, watching patterns, talking bollocks about aliens, black holes, worm-theory, black-ops, cover-ups and conspiracies their whole lives. Not that it mattered to Drew, but they were also the world’s leading experts on the scientific failings of Doctor Who, Star Trek, and Star Wars so they were 1000% prepped for a clandestine meeting in a dingy basement, under cover of night.

  Trouble was, Drew couldn’t wait for nightfall and he didn’t have access to a basement. They would have to come to him. A mission this dangerous could not be relayed over the web. Not even over a secure channel. De nada. They were going to have to put their pants on, leave their houses, board planes, and meet him by the triple tree – three trees growing out of one seemingly dead white pine stump – in Mountain State Park near Chestnut Knob loop at 0900 hours, on June 10th – today. He sent them a detailed map through encryption he didn’t think anyone but his buddies could break. And, break it, they did.

  Drew stood under one of the chestnut trees that lined the loop. Upside to meeting in a public space: there were plenty of hikers about, which gave you cover. Downside: he had no idea what starwanderer3, jabberwockmyass, or bitemymegabite looked like. He could rule out the suits, dashing from their cars to their boxy offices, but it was Charlotte, so there weren’t too many of them.

  He checked his watch. Either they were all late, or he hadn’t been able to pick them out of the hikers. Score one for the nerd patrol or he’d picked a bad spot

  Scratch that.

  It was the shuffle and the paranoia that gave him away. Jeebus on a cracker. Could he look any more suspicious? The coat, the Converse, the glasses, the phone glued to his hand all screamed: “I am on a clandestine operation and the Government is out to get me, look away, look away, look away.”

  Actually, that wasn’t a bad cover. Drew thought about the shape of his life-to-come. Perhaps that’s what it would look like: him shuffling along, babbling nonsense while lacing it with truth, pushing a shopping cart of all his worldly goods.

  “Greetings of peace, Earthling.” They’d decided on a standard greeting, so they could identify one another. He smiled at the Converse-wearing human who stood beside the tree.

  “Who says I’m from Earth?”

  They both cracked up. It was too, too good.

  As soon as they’d made the first introductions, two more hackmeisters emerged from the bushes. One was tall and skinny with long hair and an astigmatism that made it impossible to know which eye to look at. The other was a goth-girl, with panda-black eyes and purple lips. They both flashed Drew Spock “live long and prosper” signs, which meant they were all assembled.

  “No names, no addresses, no contacts, other than the contacts we already have.”

  Everyone in the circle nodded. They knew the drill. Thrilling as it was to meet, the operation was founded on absolute and unbreakable secrecy. The minute they knew anything about one another, they would be compromised.

  Drew fished three thumb drives from his inner pocket. “What I am about to give you blows the roof off what we know about space travel, our government, and life in the Universe. There are ancient civilizations out there in the stars. They know about us and have left us to evolve. Apparently, we’re too war-like to invite to the intergalactic party just yet.”

  He was preaching to the choir, confirming things they had long suspected.

  “Slade – you’ve seen him, that asshole who tried to discredit me – is planning to take high-ranking officials and ‘essential’ personnel on his expedition to colonize Callisto. He plans to leave the rest of us behind, to face the rising waters and inevitable inundation.”

  Goth girl frowned.

  “You heard me. There’s going to be another great flood. One that blankets the Earth. There are a million theories out there about why, but none of them matter, because we have to let people know we’re facing extinction and that bastard is evacuating the very people who could help us get off-world. Every scientist who knows jackshit about building space-worthy craft is going to be taken from us. Slade and the GSA are signing our death warrant.”

  Converse-wearing dude held up his hand. “Permission to speak?”

  “Granted,” said Drew.

  “If we get this data out there…”

  “And we will,” said Goth-girl.

  “If we get this data out there, will it make any difference?”

  “Sure it will,” said Drew. “Do you think they can launch an exodus if half the world shows up to protest? We’ll broadcast their plans, which incidentally, include a launch date, and force them to re-think the mission. We’re in it together. All for one, and one for all.” He regretted the last bit, as soon as he’d said it. He’d been doing well, feeling inspirational, but had gone all Three Musketeers on himself.

  No one seemed to care.

  “That it?” said one-eye-looks-skyward, the-other-looks-east.

  “That’s it,” said Drew.

  He wanted to hug someone, shake hands, something to show how grateful he was. Knowing, however, that starwanderer3, jabberwockmyass, or bitemymegabite were all probably too geeked out for human emotion and had problems with processing sense-data, just as he did, hugs were not on the menu.

  He did his best imitation of a salute and sent his three-person army off to save mankind.

  49

  June 10th, 2018

  West Glacier, Montana

  Rivkah hovered the Oospor Class-9 dropship above a forest in a remote area in Montana. It was late morning and the sun was giving off a white-yellow glare across a meadow to the east.

  She jabbed a finger at the view screen. “I’ll take it down in that meadow.” Her voice was hard.

  She had talked little during the flight. When she did talk, every word had an edge. She didn’t hide her anger or her misery.

  “How far are we from civilization?” Jaxx asked.

  “Not far enough.” She brought up a map on the view screen. “Ten miles from Polebridge, Montana. Population, 132.”

  She lowered the dropship in the meadow. The descent was quiet, even the landing. She pressed a button and the dropship’s ramp hissed open. “Let’s go.”

  Jaxx shot her a look. “Couldn’t we park any closer to Polebridge? We’re ten miles away.”

  “I want as little attention as possible. You can come or stay, I don’t care.” The ramp shook as it hit the ground, resting on a patch of wildflowers. She walked down the ramp and around the dropship, disappearing from view.

  “I need the exercise,” said Jaxx. “I wonder if was a jock when I was in the SSP? Was this hiking through the forests shit easy for me?” He grabbed the laptop and hurried toward Rivkah. The wildflowers and grasses were so tall, they reached his waist. Trees circled the meadow. The smell of Douglas Firs swept past him, borne on a chilly breeze.

  Rivkah hacked a path through the undergrowth – flowers and all – as she ploughed through the meadow, only glancing back once to see if Jaxx was following.

  He caught up. “Are we heading to a road?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then what?”

  They reached the tree line and stepped into the forest. The ambient temperature dropped ten degrees in the shade.

  “Then we walk until we reach Polebridge.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t have to tell you squat. Like I said, you can come or not. I don’t give a single fuck. I have people who can help me disappear. You want to come, that’s up to you.” She turned
and continued her vigorous hike.

  Jaxx halted next to a wide tree. “Stop. You and Fox treat me like I am the scum of the Universe. Why?”

  She walked back to Jaxx, her face a dangerous shade of “fuck you, asshole” and sank her hand onto his throat, pushing him against the tree. She squeezed and growled at him. “Do not couple me in the same sentence as Fox. Ever.”

  A zap went through her and she let go, sounding out a quick yelp, then shook her hand. “Fuck that.”

  Jaxx rubbed his neck. “I’m sorry, Rivkah. What did I do to you? I pissed Richard off and he shot me twice. You clearly hate me. I don’t want you to shoot me as well.”

  “If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead.”

  He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what he’d done, so he didn’t know what to apologize for and nothing sucks harder than a generic apology. Then again, he needed to do something to mend the breach.

  She stepped over a downed tree. “You left me for dead.”

  Jaxx blanched. That would be a good reason to be pissed. “I have a hard time believing I left you to die.”

  She ducked under a large branch. “How convenient.”

  Up ahead Jaxx could see a road bordering the edge of the forest. He was happy it was a short walk to civilization, although in this case, civilization was just a road. “Slade had me undergoing hypnosis. I’ve gotten to the point where I saved your life.”

  She stopped and spun, almost putting a finger on Jaxx’s chest but thought better of it. “Yes. The blood. Thank you for your blood. The gift that keeps on giving. I can move things with my mind, hear what you’re thinking, and conduct electricity, when I touch you. It’s a barrel of laughs.” She strode ahead, determined to shake him off.

  Jaxx followed. “Rivkah, please tell me. Tell me the whole story. I cannot imagine any circumstance where I would leave you to die. It’s just…well…alien to me.”