EARTH'S LAST WAR: 2289 A.D. (The Ashlyn Chronicles Book 3)

by R. Brown

  Chapter 5

  Journey into Darkness

  The two of them materialized at the entrance to Eden. “Hmm, I guess the Keeper seems to think I don’t need clothes.”

  “That was my idea,” Ashlyn confessed. “I mean—wasn’t that the whole point of your asking for a place where we could be alone?”

  “I guess that was part of it, but mostly—I just wanted us to have a moment to ourselves, a moment when the weight of the whole fucking universe wasn’t riding upon our shoulders. Sometimes, I wish we could just run away and—”

  Ash put her finger to his lips, silencing him. She stared into his eyes. “It’s a good wish. Let’s make this place ours, and ours alone. Whenever we come here—nothing but you and I exist. There’s no past, no future. It’s a place where each moment will be a lifetime.” Rising onto her toes, she leaned in to him, giving him a deep, passionate kiss.

  Steven scooped Ashlyn into his arms. His thoughts became her thoughts—as did her thoughts become his. They were one, their desires unrestrained.

  Feeling Steven’s readiness pulsing against her belly, Ash pulled away. “Come-on. I have a wish of my own.”

  Taking him by the hand, she led him through the garden. Everything was identical to the Eden they had known on Hadaesia. The flowers were bloomed, the colors all around them vibrant—the sky, deep blue. A crescent of one of Heaven’s large moons had risen from behind a mountain on the valley’s eastern rim. Jumping over the small brook, Ash led Steven to the small knoll at the back of the garden.

  As they approached the likeness of the tree that had bestowed the Gift of Knowledge to them, Ash sensed Steven’s sadness. “Does it bother you to be here, a place that is identical to the other Eden?”

  “No,” said Steven. Under her skeptical gaze, he relented. “A bit.” Looking down from the knoll into the valley, Steven recalled how much Renee had loved the view. She’d asked him to build their house there, atop the knoll. It was the place where he had said goodbye to Renee...and put her to rest. The memories of those last months in the garden were vivid and undiminished. It felt like yesterday.

  Ash, seeing his eyes grow blurry gently touched him. “This is not a place of sadness or death, Steven. It’s a place of life. Like a butterfly, it’s the place where the two women that loved you, transformed, becoming something new and beautiful.

  “Everything that they were, is in here.” Ash took his hand and put it atop her heart. “Renee is here. Ashlyn is here. Neither of them is gone. Neither of them ever left you. They simply transformed into the butterfly. To me, this is a place of happiness. It is the place where I was born.”

  Steven’s heart melted. “You’re right, Ash. Thank you—thanks for reminding me.”

  Ash looked at him questioningly.

  In contemplative thought, Steven’s eyes softened, his voice becoming compassionate. “When you’re in the eye of a hurricane, and you’re watching almost everyone and everything around you die—it’s easy to miss the butterfly that landed on your shoulder.

  “So yes, thank you for reminding me that the world is bigger than the hurricane I see swirling around me.” Steven squeezed her hand, quickly adding. “I believe you said you had a wish?”

  Suggestively, Ash looked down at him. “I do. And it’s a big one.” Urging him to lie down on the grass beneath the tree—feeling playful, Ash grabbed a branch and shook it. Dozens of leaves fell. Steven closed his eyes, grinning as he felt one land atop his nose. Ash laughed as he blew it away and made a funny face at her.

  Kneeling at his side she said, “I’ve never had a wish before.” Ash took hold of him. “As I recall, I think I’m supposed to rub the magic lamp to get the genie to appear.”

  “I think you’re supposed to use two hands,” said Steven. “One to hold the base and the other to-”

  “Like this?” asked Ash.

  “Yup.” A moment went by. “You’d better—make that—wish—soon,” said Steven, gasping out the words between his broken breath.

  Ashlyn quickly straddled him, giving a soft sigh as she settled herself upon him. To her enthusiastic moans and shrill gasps, the genie released himself inside her, granting her wish.

  For that brief moment, the world was theirs, and no one else existed.

  ***

  Rolling off to one side, Ash cuddled up to Steven and draped her leg over his. With soothing strokes, she ran her nails across his chest, her voice dipping to a tender tone. “Promise me that this will always be our place. I want it to belong to us forever.”

  Steven craned his neck to kiss her forehead. “You have my word—it’ll be ours alone.”

  The two of them grew quiet, each knowing that their time together was about to come to an end.

  A large shadow passed over them, capturing their gaze. “It’s a naga,” said Ashlyn. A moment later a second one joined the first. Like kittens, the two nagas playfully tumbled and batted at one another. “They’re fun to watch.”

  “Yeah, they are,” agreed Steven.

  “Solon had said it was one of the favorite flying forms of the Anunnaki,” said Ashlyn.

  Ash suddenly bolted upright in agonizing pain—her hands on the lower parts of her belly, her eyes wide.

  Startled, Steven jumped to his knees beside her. “What’s wrong, Ash?” He grasped her arm.

  Grimacing, Ash looked into his eyes. “It’s the darkness. They’re—” Her face twisted as she experienced another strong spasm of pain. Struggling to speak to the Keeper through the implant in her neck, Ash said, “Keeper, extend the shields around all our ships. Full emergency power!”

  “What is it?” Steven moved closer and put his arm around her in support. “What the hell is happening?”

  Ignoring his question, Ashlyn kept her thoughts focused beyond the pain. “Keeper, scan for a small cloaked ship off-” Ash groaned as the darkness sent a spearing pain into her. “Look for a spatial distortion, astern. Use full spectral imaging.”

  “Extending shields. Scanning,” replied the Keeper. A moment passed. “You are correct, Lady Ashlyn—there is a cloaked vessel fifty kilometers’ aster—”

  Ashlyn’s senses sped, slowing everything around her. She strained to go beyond the pain. “Keeper, fire all weap—belay that!” Ashlyn saw that it was too late, the Keeper’s shields weren’t going to reach the Arkane in time.

  The minds of those trapped within the darkness, within Ja’kal, had taken possession of the crew aboard the Draconian ship. What those, within the darkness, didn’t realize was that their advantage, was also Ashlyn’s advantage. What they saw, she saw—their thoughts were as exposed to her, as hers were to them.

  Ashlyn also saw that she had underestimated the enemy. The instant she had left the ship with Steven, she’d provided them the opportunity they had been waiting for. They’d been watching, waiting for a moment when Destiny and the fleet would be vulnerable—a moment when they could attack without risking injury to Ja’kal, their savior.

  Through the commander’s eyes of whom the collective consciousness had taken control, Ash could see the bridge of the enemy ship. The lights were low, the crew standing in a circle around a tactical hologram that tracked the three large volleys of missiles they had launched. The leader, mimicking the thoughts of the darkness that controlled him, gave a series of broken, snorting growls—proudly proclaiming his victory.

  A hundred and forty thousand people, those aboard the Arkane, were about to die.

  Ashlyn reached deep inside, calling upon her ability to remotely project her consciousness. As her image, the embodiment of her consciousness appeared in space, Ash spun. As she expected, she could see the Keeper’s shields extending, and that they weren’t going to envelop the Arkane in time.

  Only she stood between the Arkane and the incoming volley of missiles. Using her Transor powers, she called upon the gravitational waves, commanding them to form a barrier.

  Just meters away, a near invisible wall appeared. Only the shimmering, warbling pinpoi
nts of distant stars beyond told her that it was there. A split second later, the first wave of missiles streaking toward the fleet began to impact the barrier. Ashlyn instinctually raised her hand, wincing under the glare—unsure that it would hold against the massive blasts. Slowly, her hand lowered as the fiery, roiling cloud failed to close the small distance between them.

  With boldness, she watched the second wave of missiles coming at her. Again, the gravitational wall turned a hundred shades of red, orange, and yellow. It had just started to dissipate when the third and final wave of missiles arrived—only to be destroyed like the others.

  Ash could sense the shock of those within the darkness. They had waited until she and Steven were solely focused on one another, distracted by the sensations of pleasure coursing through them. So too, they felt secure in knowing that she was thousands of miles away on the planet below, they felt confident of victory, fully believing they could not be stopped.

  Though Ashlyn had won the battle, her brow furrowed. She was furious that the darkness within her child was using him as a pawn in the war. Driven by the rage she felt, she sent the gravitational wall toward the enemy ship. “You can’t have him. I’ll never stop fighting you.” Ashlyn closed her hand, making a fist—ordering the wall to crush the vessel.

  The Draconian vessel instantly imploded, crushed by a supernatural force they could not comprehend. With the death of the enemy crew, the consciousness of the darkness retreated into Ja’kal. As her connection to their thoughts broke, the voices of the darkness spoke. “He is already ours. It is through his hand that we will destroy the Anunnaki. We possess his immortality—and with his power we cannot be stopped. The universe will bow before us. It is our destiny. You know this to be true. You can feel it.”

  Ash grimaced. Though she didn’t know how, she knew the darkness was correct—they were speaking words of truth. Someday, Ja’kal would turn against his people, his family—against her.

  But deep inside, elusive as it was, Ashlyn felt there was an answer to be found. It just wasn’t in this place or in this time.

  Ash was about to recall her remotely projected consciousness, when she felt something reaching out to her. It inspired a feeling of tender warmth, like that of a mother’s gentle kiss upon the face of her newborn child. Ashlyn responded, grasping onto the tender expression of love.

  Her mind, free of bodily encumberment, suddenly exploded with profound clarity. In an instant, it felt as though time lost all meaning. Everything became simultaneously finite and infinite. Floating in space, her heart was captured by the spectacular beauty of Heaven spinning slowly below her. Half the planet was drowned in darkness, the other half beyond the terminus, bathed in sunlight. Like a moth to a flame, it was a contrast that reflected the conundrum of her war against the darkness. The war was coming, and like she had been told by Enki from the beginning, the war between the dark and the light was going to threaten to tear the galaxy apart.

  It made her fearful of what Ja’kal would have to face—or what he might become.

  Without warning, like a blossoming flower, the universe unfolded before her. Her consciousness expanded, sending her racing faster and faster into the depths of space. Blazing stars of all types, red and blue supergiants, and dwarfs zipped past her, becoming nothing more than distant specks of retreating light that quickly disappeared behind her.

  Passing through the heart of her own galaxy, thousands of images of astonishing worlds full of life flashed before her, filling her mind with wonder and a thirst to see more. As her journey continued to accelerate—galaxies, like grains of sand raced past her. The amazing things she saw in the images brought tears to her eyes. There was so much that existed—living worlds that were beyond imagination. Her trek took her to the edge of the universe, and beyond.

  As she saw the galaxies comprising the universe, falling away behind her and she crossed deeper into the dark void of nothingness—a distant pinnacle of light appeared ahead of her. As it grew larger, she sensed that it was to her own universe that she was returning. Her path had brought her home.

  It was a journey of illumination, of awakening—of evolution. As her speed slowed, and she again entered the dense core of her own galaxy, Ash realized that someone or something wanted her to know that they were part of something incredible, part of a universal consciousness that was as vast and as personal as her love for Steven.

  In the return to her physical body, Ashlyn felt the flutter of her baby moving inside her. It was then that she truly understood what she had been shown. Ashlyn saw that she was not alone in her fight against the darkness—it was a voyage of hope.

  A heartbeat later, Ash found herself back aboard Destiny, lying on a bed in the infirmary—crying heavily. Her tear-filled eyes opened to see Tara and Steven sitting nearby. They were both asleep, the lights in the room turned low.

  Hearing her muffled sobs as she awoke, Steven rose and jumped to her side. “Ash, are you okay?”

  “Water,” said Ash. Her voice sounded raspy, her throat parched.

  Tara poured a glass of water and handed it to Ashlyn, which she gulped down. Setting the glass down, she wiped the tears from her eyes.

  “I was so worried,” said Steven. “Even the Keeper didn’t know why you weren’t waking up.”

  It was then that Ash realized she didn’t remember ever returning to Destiny. “How long was I out?” asked Ashlyn.

  “Three days. It’s like your body was in an induced coma—and yet the scans showed your brain was functioning at intensely high levels of activity. The Keeper could barely measure it. Do you know what happened? Was it the darkness again?”

  “Three days?” Ash parroted, shocked at the time that had elapsed. She gingerly propped herself up into a sitting position. “I was crying because—” Ashlyn swallowed gathering her composure. “—because what I saw was so overwhelmingly profound, so spiritual, so beautiful. Nothing I say can ever do it justice.”

  Ash looked into Steven’s plaintive eyes. “They took me on a journey to the end of the universe. It’s—it’s incredible. I was shown so much.”

  “They? And what do you mean they took you on a journey?” he questioned.

  Ash shook her head. “I don’t know who they are, but I felt a warmth with them, a feeling of belonging. I felt contentment. I felt eternal. They have a great love for us.”

  Ash smiled. “There’s amazing worlds out there—worlds full of people and wondrous, majestic lifeforms. The things I saw—” Ash paused, trying to find the words to articulate what she had seen.

  Tara took a seat, enthralled by the wonderment of Ashlyn’s words and the sparkle of excitement in her eyes.

  “I saw twinkling jellyfish that were as large as mountains. They were migrating in great herds, floating through violet colored skies above forested islands that defied gravity. Their world was so beautiful and peaceful. I could have stayed forever.

  “There were great spired cities built atop clouds that looked down upon ocean worlds that teamed with glowing, dolphin-like creatures.

  “I saw a world that exists inside a sun, where the people communicate through the singing of songs, beautiful songs that I could feel inside my heart.”

  Even in retelling the experience, it had been so personal, so spiritual—that Ashlyn’s eyes filled with tears.

  “I saw so many incredible things. They wanted me to know that there is more than war and violence. It was a gift to us, an invitation. They’re telling us that someday, we might be part of the galactic family.”

  Ashlyn paused, her mind envisioning all she had seen. “Like I said—words can’t do it justice.”

  Steven tipped his head. “Considering the magnitude of the experience, I think you did pretty good. Do you know why they chose now to do this? With all the crap we have ahead of us, I don’t feel like we’re the best fit for their galactic family. We aren’t exactly ambassadors of peace.”

  “No, we aren’t—but I think it’s because they see the potential in u
s. I had the feeling that they’ve been observing us. And-”

  “And?” said Steven, pushing her to continue.

  “They know that I’m about to go into stasis. Whatever lies ahead of me, they wanted me to know that I’m not alone in facing the darkness.”

  Steven saw the implications of her words. Knowing what was ahead, perhaps they had wanted to provide her an avenue of hope. “Keeper, was her journey through the cosmos a new event, one that did not happen in the old timeline?”

  “It was,” responded the Keeper. “I have no explanation for it.”

  “Ripples on top of ripples,” said Steven.

  “Can travel across an ocean,” added Ashlyn, determination framing her face. “That is why I need to go into stasis, Steven—now.”

  “Stasis can wait a few minutes.” Though he was fearful of forcing an answer from Ashlyn that might move the darkness to action, he felt compelled to ask. “I’d like to know about that ship you destroyed. How did you know it was there?”

  Ashlyn shook her head. “That doesn’t matter. Every minute that I’m awake, I’m a danger to all of you.”

  “That’s not true. Ash. If not for you, the fleet would have been destroyed,” said Steven. “You saved everyone’s life.”

  “No.” Ashlyn held her belly as though she were preparing for the darkness to retaliate. “The darkness made a mistake. A mistake that I took advantage of. They won’t do it again. Don’t you see. It was because of me that they attacked. The darkness possessing Ja’kal was watching, waiting. They couldn’t attack the fleet without endangering themselves—but the instant I left—they took possession of the Draconian crew. They wanted to stop me from going into stasis and leaving this time-period with Ja’kal. None of you are safe with me here.”

  ***

  “Don’t forget our agreement, Keeper.” Reminded Ashlyn.

  “You have my word. The agreement will be kept,” the Keeper responded.

  “And why wasn’t I privy to this conversation?” asked Steven.