It was now Keys’s turn, so she rolled him onto his back, before she could act he jumped to his feet. The grip of the stunning effect loosened unexpectedly, so Chris followed suit, grabbing hold of his rifle as he came to his feet to face the alien adversary. Surprise enveloped her face as she vanished into blue light and reappeared ten feet down the hall.
Both Chris and Keys fired nonstop at her, the sounds of gunfire and shell casing echoing throughout the area. The shooting came to an end as the two realized she was nowhere to be seen. She reemerged from the shadows directly behind Keys, and his blood gushed out of two exit wounds on his chest as she plunged her daggers through him with little effort. A second storm of bullets spitted from Chris’s rifle, and the woman vanished again. Keys’s body fell to the ground, adding to the death toll.
No time for Christ to rage and moan for the dead—the stealthy alien visitor still lurked, apparently saving Chris for last. So that’s how it’s goin’ to be? Fucking bring it, he roared internally. Chris maintained his spot, firing bullets into a hallway littered with what appeared to be dead bodies. The sound of rifle fire turned into a clicking noise—his magazine was empty. Well, shit. She clearly had the upper hand in this fight, now more than ever, particularly being able to turn herself invisible at will and get the drop on unsuspecting victims.
Death never came. His hands moved quickly to change the magazine on his rifle as he retreated back down the hallway he had come from. He came to a full stop after noticing something eerie—bloody handprints appearing on the sides of the wall. A new one slapped itself on the wall every meter or so. Droplets of blood dripped and splattered on the floor ahead, dropping out of thin air. The invisible female alien had been hit by a bullet and was now trying to run away.
“Gotcha, bitch!” he yelled, releasing a barrage of bullets. His rifle stopped bellowing as he looked around for results—no new blood, and no new drips or bloody handprints either. He moved farther up, firing random shots every so often, just to make sure.
A razor-sharp object entered his lower abdomen from behind. The sudden shock caused Chris to roar in pain. Suddenly blue light flashed before him and shot upward, while his body fell downward.
………
The darkness of the night sky made traversing the desert slightly more bearable for Phylarlie, but that wasn’t saying much. The human hitting her with those projectile shots was unexpected. Two rounds hit her—one in her upper left leg, the other in her torso. The plan was to jump-port behind him to finish him off, but her abilities were slow on activating as her battery power became low.
Rookie move, she thought to herself. A soft chime echoed from her suit, reminding her of the current status of her battery pack. She had spent quite a lot of time in stealth prior to all this—hitching a ride to the airport, evading the humans’ security systems, avoiding detection onboard the aircraft. Then there was the conflict she endured while protecting Jazz, and not once had she swapped batteries or recharged the current one. The final stab against that human wasn’t plasma-charged either; just the unenhanced sharpness of her blade.
She sat down on the warm sandy terrain and deactivated her cloak. At this point it was best to have the suit’s medical systems take over and heal her wounds with what little battery power remained. She was a good distance away from the human base anyway. Much better, she thought, with the cloak off and all other systems on standby. Her body began to heal from the projectile wounds at a much faster rate.
Bright blue light appeared a short distance away from her. Her attention snapped to that location—someone had teleported to her. She arose, pulling her sore body to its feet and arming herself with her daggers. They were powered off to conserve power, but the blade alone was still capable of damage. Her glowing red-orange eyes scanned the area, looking for her newfound guests. Off in the distance were two pairs of red glowing eyes quickly moving toward her. She did the same, limping toward them. Whoever they were, she knew they were here with good intentions. If they wanted to fight, she’d already have been attacked. There was no secondary blue light either, which meant one of the two was a psionic. Yeah, definitely here to talk.
Face-to-face contact was made. It was the blue-haired female assassin Phylarlie had encountered trying to capture Jazz, and a male psionic. The psionic’s eyes were firmly locked on Phylarlie’s, and she gazed back, wondering what thoughts could be going through his head. Lust perhaps? Not that she had a problem with that—his fit cybernetic chest was exposed and quite tempting.
“Not bad, little one,” the assassin said. “I had my doubts on tipping you to this location.”
Phylarlie’s head moved away from the shirtless psionic and looked the assassin. “Tipping?” Phylarlie asked. Then she remembered the transmission that had led her here. “That was you?”
“You’re young and inexperienced. I figured you could use the info.” she said.
Phylarlie’s face developed a puzzled look, since the two of them did try to kill each other not long ago. “You’re helping me after fighting me?”
“Our missions conflicted before. It happens from time to time. The guild doesn’t think things like that through, only issuing the kill orders.” She looked at Phylarlie’s wounds and shook her head in pity. “Which brings me to why I’m here.”
The assassin activated a holographic window, displaying General Hilemei’s meeting with human politicians. Phylarlie’s heart skipped a beat at the sight. “He’s here.”
Hilemei was a high-value target in the Hashmedai military. He had led and planned battles against the Hashmedai with deadly results. Each and every assassin was ordered to kill him on sight, regardless of whatever other missions they were working on. This had resulted in the deaths of countless assassins. Hilemei was a cunning and formidable adversary, and hordes of bodyguards protected him. But bodyguards were clearly not with him this time around.
“You, me, and my mate are going to kill him in front of his newfound human friends,” she said.
“I hope you have a plan. He’s not a target you use brute force on,” Phylarlie said.
The assassin smiled. “Of course we do, little one. We’re going to make history.” She nodded to the psionic, and his cybernetics gathered power to teleport the three. “When this is all over, I’m going to recommend the guild send you contracts requested by Jerut’s associates.”
Phylarlie face developed a confused look.
“If you’re interested, of course,” added the assassin. “The rewards are…incredible.”
Blue light flashed out from the psionic, and all three of them vanished.
………
Alisha and Jason sat next to each other in the office of the Westside Institute of the Gifted, located in downtown LA. Their young daughter Hannah for years had displayed strange characteristics, which doctors had no explanation for. From the time she was born until she was four years old, she never spoke a word, prompting experts to believe she perhaps had a language-based or speech disorder. Then, without warning, she started speaking on the same level as any typical four-year-old. It was as if she had been speaking all along. Between ages four and eight, she hit another wall. Not only did her speech remain like that of a four-year-old, but her school lessons were not being learned. On her eighth birthday, her vocabulary improved as she got perfect scores on all her school assignments. A test shortly afterward revealed her IQ to be 125, well above average. Her twelfth birthday had passed not long ago, four years after her last mysterious boost in brainpower. With that came a new surprise—her ability to speak languages she’d never been exposed to, along with several other mysteries. Alisha didn’t quite know how to explain it.
Dr. Dianna Lee reached out to Alisha after discovering Hannah’s “strange gift,” as she called it. Experts at the institute the doctor worked for had seen cases like hers in the past and had a work program set up to allow children like her to grow and learn. And of course, at the same time, this provided Dr. Lee with subjects to study.
Hannah sat on a stool behind Alisha and Jason, her attention focused on the book in her small hands—Animal Farm by George Orwell. In front of Alisha and Jason was a desk with a petite Asian woman: Dr. Dianna Lee.
“She’ll be in good hands here, Ms. Levesque,” said Dr. Lee, adjusting her glasses.
“Yeah, it’s just that we’ll have to move out here. I wish you all had a place like this back in Montreal,” Alisha said with a laugh.
“Well, take all the time you need to think about this and make plans if you do choose to have Hannah enrolled here,” Dr. Lee advised. “Would you like to take a look at some of our classrooms?”
“Sure, I’d love that,” Alisha said, turning to face Hannah with a brimming smile. “Hannah, hon, do you want to visit the classrooms with me?”
Hannah lowered the book to look at Alisha. “OK,” she said reluctantly.
The institute was really just empty office space in a high-rise building. Cubicles were shifted around to form makeshift classrooms, and a computer lab area off to the side provided students with printers, desktop computers, and soft beanbag chairs to sit on when they chose to use laptops. Dr. Lee led the trio in and showed them around. Each classroom had no more than six kids, and each child sat at a desk working on an assignment. The instructor addressed them individually in assigning new tasks.
Alisha’s gaze went down to her child. “So what do you think? These kids are gifted just like you.”
“I don’t see anyone,” said Hannah.
Alisha’s face slowly flushed as she faced Dr. Lee. “Sorry, sometimes she doesn’t see what’s there…and sees things that aren’t.”
“No need to apologize,” said Dr. Lee. “Many students here are the same way.”
“Can we get something to eat, Mom?” asked Hannah.
“Yeah, I’m not gonna lie—I’m starving,” Jason added.
“I guess we’ll step out for a bit,” said Alisha.
“Not a problem. Come back anytime while you’re still here in LA,” said Dr. Lee as she handed over a large envelope to Alisha. “This package contains all the details about our group and studies.”
“Thanks, I’ll look over it tonight,” Alisha assured her.
Dr. Lee showed the family the way to the elevators. As the doors were shutting, Alisha gazed at Hannah. Her child was staring directly at Dr. Lee with a perplexing look on her face. Dr. Lee stared back and smiled.
………
Jazz looked up toward the nighttime East Coast sky. He stood outside the balcony of their safe house to warm up every so often. His Hashmedaian acquaintances insisted on having the air conditioner on max, effectively turning the cottage into an icebox just like their ship. On occasion, when his guests weren’t close by, he left the balcony door open to let in some of the summer heat.
He had heard someone step outside a solid four minutes ago, so he knew he was not alone, but whoever it was said or did nothing else. Finally, out of curiosity, he looked back. Kroshka’s slender body leaned on the side of the entrance to the balcony, her semi glowing eyes fixed on Jazz. She smiled and lightly waved her hand, making eye contact. Onatiasha sat in the kitchen nearby, consuming the last of her meal—black forest ham—and taking notice of Kroshka’s fascination with Jazz. He returned his sights to the sea of stars above.
Kroshka finally moved forward, standing next to Jazz. She let a few seconds pass before she said, “So much different here—the layout of the stars in the sky. On Paryo it’s all in a different spot.”
Jazz kept his gaze on the stars, leaning forward on the balcony rail. “I can only imagine.”
She raised her index finger and pointed toward a bright star. “That’s our star, the one Paryo orbits.”
“Really?”
She giggled, lowering her arm. “No, it’s not. I honestly have no idea where it is in these skies.”
“So you came here with your brother, right?” Jazz asked.
“Yes, along with Onatiasha’s team.”
“How did you end up alone in Vegas?”
She closed her eyes and paused for a moment. “We were ambushed, I am not sure who did it. They used projectile weapons, which suggests humans.” Her eyes opened again, and she clenched her lips briefly. “Or Radiance, but only their scientists came to this world.” She continued on as Jazz turned to her. “Akeia and I managed to escape. Fearing for my safety, he made a deal with some men—had me smuggled out to the western side of this continent.”
“Has there been any sign of your brother as of late?”
“I haven’t been able to reach his mind lately. I fear the worst.” Her face looked sorrowful.
She knows damn well he’s probably dead, Jazz thought. “Well, hopefully Onatiasha will find him and figure out a way for y’all to get off this rock.” Something to cheer her up.
She paused for a few seconds and then gazed at Jazz with a captivating grin. “You should come with us.”
“I ain’t no astronaut. I don’t belong outside of this world.” His face turned back to the sky. “Nobody needs me out there.”
She headed back inside, having had enough of the heat. “I’ll need you out there,” she whispered.
“For what?” Jazz turned around.
Her steps toward the door halted as she curved her head toward him. Still maintaining that smile, her hand waved goodnight to him, and then she entered the light of the cottage living room.
Jazz found himself back in the kitchen with a bottle of vodka in his hands. Onatiasha was seated next to the kitchen countertop as Jazz poured himself a drink. Her fast hands grabbed the glass and pulled it over to her before Jazz could get a grip on it.
“Oh, come on—that wasn’t for you!” he exclaimed.
The glass of vodka was just below her nose, and she grinned before pouring it down her throat. She slammed the empty glass down onto the counter. “Amazing,” she said. “There’s a drink back home that tastes and smells exactly like this.” Her index finger pushed the glass back to Jazz. The look on her face said it all—she wanted more. He poured more vodka into the glass, along with a second glass, which he kept away from her.
“Ah, so booze exists in outer space as well.” He took a sip of his drink, and she did the same. “Do your people get drunk, too?”
“On occasion, yes. I once had to escort a drunken Prince Akeia and some whore-turned-Archmage back to her suite.” She took another gulp of her drink.
Jazz let out a subtle laugh. “Sounds like drunken hookups are also a thing out in the cosmos.”
“Hookups?” She wasn’t familiar with all the English slang terms.
“Uh, sex.”
“Copulation you mean?”
“Yeah, sure, that works.”
“Then, yes, hookups do happen on our world.”
The two finished their drinks, and Jazz realized she was out drinking him. “So what’s the deal with an Archmage?” he asked, pouring another round. “Sounds like something straight out of Dungeons and Dragons or some shit.”
“It’s a title given to extremely powerful psionics who work closely with the empress.” She clasped her third glass of vodka. “They can tear your internal organs apart just by thinking about it.”
He nodded. “That’s some fucked-up shit.”
………
Gavin and Anna sat in the waiting room of Cedars-Sinai Medical Center. Out from the corner stepped Dr. Jakins, an older man with thinning gray hair and a short sage-like beard. Gavin’s eyes zoomed in on the envelope Jakins carried as he approached the couple.
“There it is,” said Gavin.
Jakins’s withered hands presented the envelope to Anna as she and Gavin got up from their seats. “The gender of your unborn child is inside,” Jakins said, smiling.
“Now to spend the next month debating if we should open it or not,” Anna said, grasping the envelope and her purse. “Is Dr. Lee here by chance?”
“Unfortunately, no—she had to attend to her second job at the Westside Institute.”
“No worries,” said Anna. “Tell her we said ‘hello.’”
Gavin’s car decelerated as it pulled into the driveway of their suburban home. Anna stepped out of the car first while looking at the house. She didn’t move. “Gavin…did you leave the front door open?” she asked.
“No,” he said, walking toward the front door. “Oh, shit.” The door was wide open, but he was 100 percent sure he had shut and locked it before they had headed out. He ran into the house, expecting the worst, such as valuables gone or damaged. Ever since Radiance showed up on Earth, some people had been acting rash, as if the world were coming to an end or something.
Their home was indeed ransacked—the broken door was a dead giveaway. Furniture was overturned and pictures tossed off the wall. Every single drawer and cabinet was open, from what he could tell as he ran through each room of the house. Hoping the intruder was still in the act, he hungered for a fight at the sight of his beloved sanctuary.
He made two rounds, but nobody was in sight. Oddly, the TV, stereo, and massive Blu-ray collection were still there. The disks were knocked over and spread out across the floor, but none was missing. Why break in but not take anything? “Anna!” he shouted as he entered their bedroom. “Doesn’t look like they made off with anything. Is your stuff good?”
Anna felt calm and relieved as she knelt before a hidden safe in their closet. It was open, but by her, and she held in her hand the one item she kept inside it—a red gem with a glowing sphere in its center. It was a crazy piece of jewelry her mother had given her when Anna was a small child.
………
Phylarlie examined her injuries while floating in the zero-g environment on the transport ship she was teleported to. She could barely see the scars, as the new battery pack for her suit had significantly sped up the healing. A hand from behind grabbed a lock of her free-floating hair.
Celestial Ascension (Splintered Galaxy Book 1) Page 19