“I don't know. I could have sworn something in the chamber was moving.”
“What do you mean, moving?”
“Just what I said. There's something in there, it looks like a spark.” As the camera zoomed in, there was a glint of light. Carl looked closer. “Do you see that? There's something glowing in there. What do you think that is?”
Melissa looked at the screen and shrugged. “Maybe it’s one of the special effects they rigged up. We both know that the technology doesn’t exist that can restore mummified remains. Obviously this is some sort of set up to make Ritgen look good and grab funding and media attention. He was talking about going on television.”
Carl snorted. “Some scientist. So let’s beat him to it and go check it out.”
“No. I want to wait for Ritgen to come back and let him check it out. That's what he wants, anyway.”
“Well, Ritgen is my Ph.D. advisor. When he says jump, I have no choice but to ask ‘how high?’ And I know he's going to ask for full details. Come on.”
“You’re such a gullible chump, playing right into Ritgen’s hands.” Melissa said as she followed Carl.
The assistants could see their breath as they approached the chamber and peered inside. The “Ritgen-Man” looked like it had just died yesterday; what had been fossilized remains were now replaced by a body completely replenished with an intact skeleton, internal organs and flesh covered in greenish scales. Its fingertips had small, razor sharp points, and the right hand was tightly clutching something.
Melissa pointed to a gaping wound that was still visible on the shoulder and chest.
“It looks like he tried to pick a fight and got torn apart for his troubles.”
“That would explain how it died,” Carl concluded. “But what is it, where did it come from?”
“Industrial Light and Magic,” snarked Melissa.
Suddenly, Melissa noticed the glow that had caught Carl’s attention. Whatever was emitting this light was in the Ritgen-Man’s hand. Melissa pointed to the light source and looked up at Carl. “Was this what you saw?”
“Yeah, that’s it. What the hell would cause a glow like that?”
“Want to open the chamber and see?”
Carl shook his head immediately. “Oh hell no.”
“Don’t tell me you’re scared.”
“We don’t know what this is and I’ve seen enough horror films not to make the dumbass mistake and open something up that looks ‘interesting.’”
“So what do you want to do, then? Call up Ritgen and have him look at it?” Despite Melissa’s proximity to the hatch, she couldn’t hear the voice that resounded in the chamber.
“Your time has come, Danaak! Arise!”
“Absolutely,” Carl answered Melissa's question, thankful that he came to his senses regarding this...
CRASH! A million diamond-sharp slivers of glass exploded into the air as Danaak's left hand burst through the glass covering of the chamber door and grabbed Melissa by the throat. Carl stumbled back and fell over his chair.
He watched as Melissa’s “Help me!” was squeezed silent by Danaak as he tightened his grip on her neck and sat up in the chamber. Slowly, the reptilian visage turned toward Melissa and regarded her bulging stare. A sound between a hiss and growl escaped to hang inquisitively in the air. Danaak’s inhuman shriek tore through the laboratory as he flung Melissa into the wall with a sickening thud.
Carl stayed frozen on the floor where he sprawled. Dumbfounded, he saw Danaak hold up an exquisite, glittering jewel the same bitter yellow as his eyes. He pressed it against the middle of his chest and, as the jewel started to burn into his flesh, he winced in pain. After a moment, he pulled his hand away and the jewel remained embedded onto his body, its energy throwing sparks as it sealed up the gaping wounds on his chest and shoulders.
Carl gasped.
Danaak turned toward Carl, his head slightly cocked. Carl scrambled backward to regain his footing, frantic to be away from the creature and its malevolent gaze. Danaak regarded Carl’s floundering almost quizzically for a moment then turned toward the reviving Melissa, her breathing like gravel in a vacuum cleaner.
Danaak shook his head at the sound, and then his face twisted into something that resembled a smile. He looked down at his chest and placed the palm of his right hand on the jewel. A brilliant light erupted from the jewel into the palm of his hand, which he turned toward Melissa and unleashed with a blinding blast.
Melissa’s scream of agony was cut short. She looked down at her chest and saw no blood, no flesh, just a perfect circular hole of ash that grew larger with each passing second. The ash completely consumed her torso, then her arms and legs, and finally her head. Carl stood in shock and terror, as Melissa's gray ashen remains fell to the floor with a puff of smoke.
The surviving lab assistant hoisted himself over a console and raced for the door as Danaak again held his hand over the jewel. The last thing he saw was that blinding light filling the room as Danaak unleashed the force into Carl's back. Carl was knocked to the floor with a mangled shriek of anguish as he was consumed, his body burning away to nothingness.
Satisfied, Danaak stepped out of his chamber and examined the two piles of ash. Despite the resemblance, it was clear these beings were not Denarians. The jewel had made disposing of them easy, even pleasant, but he had no doubt that they would have been easy prey even without it. He looked around. The scientific equipment was crude but serviceable, certainly not as good as what his Denarian puppets could devise. Where was he? He stepped forward to study a computer screen then froze.
A sallow glow enveloped him and his face went slack. Then he spoke, his voice dripping with condescension. “My Lord. How - good to be with you again.”
* * *
Nocterar's eyes were immobile slits as he meditated in his quarters. It felt so rewarding to get this kind of piece and quiet, knowing that General Hodera was doing her part to spread the word that he had returned. It would only be a matter of time before all of Denab IV was returned to its state of slavery. Nocterar and the rest of the Krunation Empire could then continue the work they had begun so long ago at his master’s bidding.
While he rested his body to restore its power, Nocterar's mind reached out into the universe. The jewel was out there - somewhere. And Nocterar was certain Danaak had it.
Danaak. The Krunation emperor felt a breach in his composure at the mere thought of that ingrate. Where could he be? Nocterar sunk deeper into his meditation. There. A familiar energy stirred through his body. His mind reached out and he knew that Danaak held control over the jewel.
“I am here, my Lord,” the jewel called to its true master. “And I have awoken your servant.”
As the voice chimed through his head, an image formed.
Nocterar could see a scaly hand not unlike his own tap into the energy of the jewel and use its power to vaporize an indigenous life form. The scene grew clouded, then vanished.
A sneer twisted Nocterar’s lips as he hissed, “Traitor.”
* * *
The glow that had enveloped Danaak's body faded as he was pulled with a powerful force from the lab.
A moment later, Theodore walked past the door and suddenly stopped short as the burnt stench hit his nostrils. “You guys, I'm going to tell Dr. Ritgen that you were smoking in the lab again!”
CHAPTER 9
“Why did we have to park so far away from the museum?” Zorribis asked as he, Grannik and Jason stepped out of the sky blue 2010 Ford Focus. Grannik could swear he saw a beam of sunlight shining down on the Metropolitan Museum of Art fifteen city blocks away.
“Because there's no parking space close to the museum,” Jason answered. “And we're not going to steal a priceless artifact and then run down to Lexington Avenue to get on the 4 train.”
“The what?” Grannik asked.
“Never mind. So tell me the plan again?” As Jason asked, he kept looking back at his arms – now much more muscular than the
y were a mere 24 hours ago – and smiling. He moved his hands over to his chest and relished that a wall of pectoral muscle replaced his formerly sunken chest.
Zorribis pulled a small flat silver square out of his pocket and held it up. Jason remained so occupied with himself that he barely gave the Denarian any notice. “This gets attached to the sword. Matthew made some modifications to it so I don't have to use my gun to fire it.”
Jason kept his head down, looking at his chest and moving his hands down to his brand new six-pack abs. “Good, because security guards don't like to see guns in...”
“I know. Matthew told me,” Zorribis responded impatiently. “So when we get inside, I'm going to need you to distract the guards while I get myself in a position to throw the transporting device onto the sword. Once it's on there, I'll give the signal to Grannik and he'll...”
Jason's head cocked toward a lovely young blonde woman wearing shorts and a sports bra jogging past him. She let in a breath of air and then suddenly looked at him. The girl flashed a flirtatious smile at him.
Jason gave the girl a light wave, then felt a punch on his shoulder. He snapped to attention. Zorribis glared at him.
“OW! What was that?”
“Did you listen to a single word I was saying? Or were you too busy trying to establish potential copulation with a complete stranger?!”
Grannik's large hand quickly set itself on his Denarian comrade's shoulder. “Be. Calm.”
Zorribis quickly turned back toward Grannik and his voice went up several levels. “Be calm? How can I be calm? You realize how close we are to bringing Excelsior back to Denab IV and finally stopping Nocterar and Hodera and...”
“I do, and soon everyone around us will realize it too if you don't keep quiet.”
Zorribis took a deep breath then nodded. “Fine.” He turned back toward Jason. “You've been to this place we're going, yes?”
Jason shook his head. “Well, no.”
Zorribis felt his Denarian blood boil with impatience. “NO?! WHAT DO...” Grannik squeezed Zorribis' shoulder again. The young Denarian turned down his volume. “What do you mean, no?”
Jason shifted uncomfortably. “I've never been a big fan of museums. I mean, I was there for a field trip in grade school, but that was so long ago. I was supposed to be there for the sword presentation to the media, but I overslept...” His words started to trail off as he rubbed his brand new abs. “I had a habit of oversleeping and doing other things that weren’t so good for me.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “I guess I was just...” Jason shook his head. His face held a faraway look. “When you upgrade a guy you don’t stop with the biceps, do you?”
Zorribis stepped forward and looked into Jason's eyes. “You know what we're going to have to do today, right?”
Jason nodded.
“If anything goes wrong with this...” there was something like a growl in Zorribis’ voice.
“Relax,” Jason spoke back softly. “I know what I'm doing and the guards won't be a problem.” He flexed his brand new arms in front of the Denarians and smiled confidently. “I'll give them two tickets to 'The Gun Show.'”
Grannik cocked his head in bewilderment. “I thought guns weren't allowed...”
“Never mind,” Jason responded. “Let's just start walking. Grannik, you wait here with the car and be ready when Zorribis gives you the signal.”
Jason began walking toward the museum. Grannik reached back inside the car and pulled out a black drawstring pouch. He emptied the contents into his hand, two transmitters the size of raisins. One fit perfectly into Zorribis' ear, the other fit in Grannik's. Once they were properly installed, Zorribis nodded to his partner and walked after Jason.
“Can you hear me?” Grannik asked quietly as he watched Zorribis walking away. He could hear the younger Denarian reply, “Perfectly clear” as if Zorribis was still standing next to him.
Grannik sat back in the car and opened up a larger black bag that was beside him in the back seat. He removed a pair of thin cloth gloves and put them on, then slowly pulled out a sword worthy of Excalibur that gleamed in the sunlight. Grannik smiled, impressed by the detail put into every millimeter of the blade, the gold handle and the jewel in the middle of the crossguard. He looked closely at the cerulean flame that glittered in the gem’s crystal blue depths. Not a single fingerprint could be seen on the blade, and Grannik ran his gloved fingers up and down it, admiring the Denarian handiwork. “Looks just like it,” he said to himself.
Suddenly, he heard Zorribis' voice in his ear. “Talking to yourself?”
“Just admiring the sword. You have not lost your skill. You are already a master artisan.”
“Thanks. Have you noticed the buildings around here?”
Grannik looked out his window and glanced at the tall apartment buildings along Fifth Avenue and the soaring office buildings in the distance reaching to choke out the sky. “Yes. It reminds me of back home.”
“Exactly,” Zorribis answered. “And not in a good way.”
* * *
Matthew sat quietly on the toilet. His ripped pajama pants lay on the ground, ready to take their farewell tour into the closest garbage can. Beside the pants, a large jeweled box sat wide open.
He held in his hands a metallic fabric that felt as durable as titanium, yet as soft as a cotton T-shirt. He slowly put on the long-sleeved pull-over shirt and once he had it on all the way, the fabric immediately sealed against him, binding the material to his chest and arms. Once it secured itself to his body, Matthew looked down at his left-hand side near his rib cage, feeling a hole in the fabric.
His mind drifted back to yesterday's race with Jason, when he experienced an unexpected flashback to when Semminex was stabbed. Something had to be strong enough to penetrate this fabric, he just knew it. But what could be that strong? And how was it made?
Matthew reached back into the box and pulled out the rest of Excelsior's armor. The smaller pieces consisted of harder material – it felt like plastic, but he knew it wasn't – that felt so lightweight that he might as well have been holding pieces of paper. Despite this being his first time seeing the armor, Matthew knew exactly where every piece went and attached them to his shirt like a life-size jigsaw puzzle.
The metallic-colored pants were just as easy to put on as the shirt, with identical material that attached itself to Matthew's legs. The black boots fit very comfortably as well, and the matching gloves didn't impede his grip. Once he was fully dressed and the smaller pieces of armor were attached, Matthew bent down and picked up the centerpiece, the breastplate that easily snapped onto his shoulders.
Matthew stood up straight in the middle of the bathroom and moved his arms around to test the armor. Nothing felt restrained; his arms and legs moved as fluidly as if he weren't wearing anything. “Wow,” he said quietly. He turned toward the bathroom mirror above the sink and leaned closely, absorbing how he looked and searching for a trace of the out-of-shape teenage loner he saw in the mirror only two days ago. He couldn't find him.
Taking a step back from the mirror, Matthew looked at the helmet sitting on the sink, staring back at him. He still couldn’t believe his eyes after all these years of designing and redesigning this helmet. He held it in his hands, studying it. The triangular eyeholes were just as he drew them seven years ago, but instead of the simple hexagon-like shape that made up the original design, the real thing was a round helmet that he felt echoed the style of a gladiator from Ancient Rome.
Two curved prongs protruded from the side of the helmet that pointed up, with an opening at the bottom for Matthew's mouth and chin. Matthew slowly placed it on his head. Was this really the look of a hero that could stand up to the likes of Danaak and Nocterar? Or was this just the average extreme fanboy dressed to impress at last year's Comic-Con? Obviously, the new body took some getting used to. The scrawny, out of shape kid from a few days ago was long gone, at least physically.
He looked into the mirror and said o
ut loud, “I am Excelsior!”
He kept looking at himself for a moment before removing the helmet. “I am Excelsior?”
Taking a deep breath, Matthew opened the bathroom door...
...and suddenly felt the blunt force of a laser blast almost knocking him off his feet.
Matthew stumbled back, but planted his feet before he completely lost his balance. Radifen stood in front of him, his handheld blaster smoking and a satisfied grin on his face.
“What the hell are you doing?!” Matthew demanded to know.
“Testing the armor. And it seems to be working great after all this time,” Radifen said.
Matthew looked down at his chest and saw a small mark where the laser blast was supposed to burn a hole in the armor. Only an ashy stain remained, and Matthew quickly wiped that away.
“Keep in mind that this is just one of our blasts,” Radifen reminded him. “The weapon Danaak has is a lot more powerful, but the armor should help you out while we take care of him.”
“What do you mean, 'we?'” Matthew asked. “Aren't I supposed to be able to take him out when I get the sword?”
Radifen beckoned Matthew down the stairs. As they walked, the older Denarian answered. “We're not just going to sit there and watch. We want to get involved in the fight just as much as anyone. It’s our home that Danaak and Nocterar and Hodera are destroying.”
His voice trailed off as they walked into the living room. All of the furniture was pushed aside, and the rug was rolled up. Matthew could hear the sounds of Klierra's cooking in the kitchen. It smelled like grilled chicken, a welcome relief since the young man felt burned out on pizza.
Karini stood attentively, ready to tend to Matthew's and Radifen's wounds. “Let me ask you something,” Matthew said as he handed Karini the helmet. “If this armor can take a blast like what you have, why is there a hole in the side?”
Radifen nodded knowingly. “Back when Semminex was Excelsior, he stopped a Krunation uprising led by Danaak. They started attacking Denarians and Excelsior arrived and stopped them. It was a great moment.”
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