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Galactic Satori Chronicles: Book 1 - Earth

Page 43

by Nick Braker


  Alara still held his hand. He glanced at her and caught her smiling at him.

  “Sorry, just enjoying the ride,” she blushed. “Oh, by the way, why did you have a look of confusion on your face when I mentioned Brock and Warren’s abilities?”

  “They can’t move like you do,” he said.

  Her smile faded somewhat.

  “Clarify?” she asked.

  Clarify? Strange word to use.

  “Uh... both Warren and Brock have not transformed,” Magnus told her.

  “That’s not possible. All of you have transformed,” she said, her smile fading completely.

  “Just Grep and I have,” he said. “Is that a problem?”

  “Magnus, we got a tail. Chopper on our six,” Warren exclaimed.

  Magnus climbed into the rear section. The chopper was a couple of miles back but it saw them. They didn’t have a chance with that helicopter.

  “Okay, we need a miracle. We have a chopper in the sky. Brock?”

  “Dude, how about a tunnel swap?” Brock asked.

  “What are you talking about?” Warren asked.

  “I meet you two dudes in one of the tunnels, maybe 12th street? You abandon the SUV and hop in my car,” Brock told them.

  Magnus nodded at Warren but Alara just shrugged.

  She really isn’t going to help us.

  “How far are you, Brock?” Warren asked.

  “Five minutes.”

  “Mag,” Warren said. “We’re eight minutes out and we need to be in the tunnel roughly at the same time.”

  “Punch it,” Magnus ordered.

  “Hold on then...”

  Warren swerved around a semi-trailer avoiding slower traffic in the right lanes. As he passed the trailer, Warren pointed to a police car in the far right lane.

  “Shit,” Warren said. “He nailed us. I’m doing 100mph. We’re just going to have more pursuers now.”

  The police car moved into pursuit, lights flashing. They had a half mile lead on them but the cruiser was gaining.

  “Can you lose them, Warren?” Alara asked.

  “Uh, probably not. Brock should be here,” he said.

  The police car closed the distance. Magnus had an idea. He rolled the side windows down in the back and sat in the middle.

  “There’s 12th Street. I’m going to have to get over in less than a mile,” Warren said.

  “Let them catch up, Warren,” Magnus ordered.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing,” he said, as he slowed the vehicle.

  The cruiser pulled up along the right side of the SUV. The officer used the PA, ordering them to pull over.

  “God, we’re in deep now,” Magnus said.

  He leaned out the window, gun in hand. The cruiser lurched back and tried to get behind them. Magnus fired off two shots to the front tire. The cruiser’s tire split and then shredded under the speed sending the car into a spin.

  “Sorry, officer,” Magnus whispered.

  Warren took the exit ramp onto 12th street. Magnus shot another car in the front grill. He watched the terrified drivers all slam on their brakes behind them.

  “I’ve got some angry people behind me honking like madmen,” Brock said, interrupting. “Shall I use deadly force, boss man?”

  Magnus ignored him. Warren pulled the SUV alongside Brock’s car. The tunnel’s interior lighting made it easy to see. They jumped out. Warren rigged the accelerator and the SUV pulled forward.

  “I put it in low gear and tied the wheel. God, I hope no one gets hurt.”

  Alara sat in the back of Brock’s car with Magnus next to her. Warren took the passenger’s front seat and several minutes later Brock pulled into the regional airport. A small, thin man met them at the hangar. Magnus guessed he was in his fifties. His gray-touched beard covered his face naturally and was neatly groomed. His eyes were blue and Magnus sensed kindness in them.

  “My name is Joseph Peters and I’ll be your pilot today,” the man said.

  Brock introduced the rest of them to him.

  “Are you four ready to go?” the elderly man asked.

  Magnus nodded and they followed the man as he took them to their plane.

  “If it weren’t for your friend, Stevens, here telling me he was CIA and then proving it once here you’d have to go through a lot of hoops to charter this plane. I hope you guys understand what I had to do to make this happen.”

  “You have our gratitude, Mr. Peters, and the country’s.”

  Chapter 25

  RETURN TO WSO

  Earth - New WSO Apartments

  Grep stepped through the door to his apartment, throwing his keys onto the new coffee table. WSO had already procured additional living spaces for their agents and the new apartment was an upgrade. His keys bounced once, sliding across its surface, the metallic clinking sounds diverting his mind from his anger. Why couldn’t they see he was only trying to help? Grep slumped onto his sofa, rubbing his temples with his right hand. His nearly lifelong friends were no longer capable of keeping up with him. Why did he even care? They were idiots compared to him now. Well, not the four girls. They understood what he was going through. Even Magnus couldn’t keep up with him and he was augmented, too.

  He slid over to the end table next to the sofa and picked up the phone. He dialed the number for the Devils Shores facility. The security operator answered as usual. He recognized her voice, it was Francis.

  “This is agent Paulson,” he said. “Clearance 9, code Pi Delta Delta Lambda.”

  “Verified,” she said. “Want to speak with Seph again?”

  Grep was surprised that Francis was on a first name basis with Seph. Something had changed. They must know each other now.

  “Yes, the new implants are nearly ready and I need to get an update on their power dispersion,” he lied.

  “Right away, sir,” she said, and patched him through.

  Seph’s voice came through the phone, “Hello?”

  “Agent Paulson here. Is this line secured?” he asked.

  There was a pause.

  “It is now,” she said.

  “God, I miss you,” Grep said.

  Seph’s voice was shaky. He could hear it clearly as if she just told him outright.

  “I miss you, too.”

  “You must really be missing me. I can hear it in your voice,” he told her.

  “Yes, but there is something else,” she said. “I am worried about you.”

  “What are you talking about? I’m fine,” he said.

  “Yes, you are, so what do you think I might be referring to then?”

  Grep knew she was talking nonsense but his mind kept bringing up thoughts of his change in behavior.

  “I don’t know what you are--” he started to say.

  “Will this be your first lie to me?” she asked.

  Grep paused. She stung him.

  “I hope we never lie to each other. So I will ask again, what do you think I might be referring to?”

  He started to sigh, but cut it off quickly.

  “You’re referring to my change of behavior,” he said, feeling the weight of his emotions for her leave him open and vulnerable. She knew him.

  “Do tell,” she pried.

  “I called hoping you could make me feel better, not be my--”

  “Do tell,” she pushed.

  “You know me better than Magnus does now,” he said.

  “I do.”

  “They claim I’m treating them disrespectfully, that I am arrogant and self-absorbed, rude, and--” she interrupted him again.

  “That is a good start. You never treat me in such ways. Why?” she asked.

  “Because you are succinct, smart and des--”

  “Of course I am deserving of your respect. I am beautiful beyond measure and equally smart. I can repair an alien spaceship with my eyes closed using duct tape,” she said. “So why do you treat me better?”

  “Because I genu--”

  She interrupted
him again.

  “--genuinely care for me? I know but why does that make me immune to your rudeness?” she asked.

  “I’m not rude to--”

  Grep screamed out mentally when she interrupted him again.

  “--to me? Is that because I am your equal?” she asked.

  “We are equals but mainly--”

  She interrupted me again!

  “--mainly because you cannot predict what I am going to say?” she asked.

  Grep lost it.

  “No! That was not what I was going--”

  “--going to say? I know. You were going to say ‘but mainly because as your equal I understand what you are going through and can relate to the frustrations you have to deal with relating to those of lesser intelligence.’”

  “Stop--” he started to say when she interrupted him again.

  “--interrupting me!” she exclaimed, just as he was about to yell. “Do... not... ever... yell at me,” she said quietly.

  “What--”

  “--the hell am I doing interrupting you?” she said softly.

  “You--”

  “--are pissing me off,” she whispered.

  “Oh my--”

  “--god,” she whispered again.

  Grep was seething. She was intentionally interrupting him and filling in his sentences and, to make matters worse, she nailed it every time.

  “Damn--”

  “--it. Cut that out,” she said softly. “Before you ask me ‘Why are you doing this to me?’ you should compare our conversation with one you have had with others recently,” she said, concern in her voice. “I care for you deeply, Grep.”

  Her comment blew out the fire of his anger like a puff of wind to a candle.

  “Holy hell,” he said softly. “You are incredible.”

  “Now, get out there and remember this conversation and let it change you. I know you will not be able to completely fix the situation you are in right now but it will come. Practice it. Also, do not ignore any thoughts that flow into your consciousness. Remember what I said, let them all in so you can practice processing them all faster and faster. You are taking a shortcut and dismissing some before you assess them. I know this because you have to be ignoring the ones that are warning you of the repercussions of your actions and words,” she said.

  They talked for several hours, sharing information and updating each other on the day’s events and new discoveries. Grep heard a knock at his door. Seph must have heard it, too.

  “Hey, I need to get back to work anyway. Good night, honey.”

  “Good night, Red,” he told her.

  Magnus and his friends boarded the plane along with Alara and the pilot. A few minutes later they were in the air. The plane sat six passengers and Alara picked the rear row. Magnus joined her.

  “We have some time. How about some more answers,” he said.

  “First, let me ask a question. What did you mean Warren and Brock haven’t transformed?”

  “We were augmented, I assume by your alien friends?” he asked.

  The sun set ahead of them through the cockpit glass. Mr. Peters lifted his shades and then grabbed the mic.

  “This is your pilot. I’ll know our exact landing time in a bit but until then please keep your seat and buckle up.”

  The dimness in the cabin was replaced by overhead lighting. The buzz from the twin propeller engines, muffled by the thin metallic wall of the plane, punched its way into the cabin. Alara and Magnus could hear each other but no one else.

  “Yes, the Aliri augmented all of us. The Kron are formidable even within a human host. Warren and Brock?” she nudged him.

  “Ah, yes, they haven’t transformed yet. More accurately, Brock is showing signs of changing but Warren is completely unaffected.”

  A look of shock formed on her face this time.

  “Are you sure?” she asked.

  “I’m sure. You should know everything. Why are you surprised?”

  Alara fidgeted. He could tell this news bothered her.

  “I cannot say.”

  She turned away from him, staring out the window.

  “Why are you surprised?” he asked again.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Magnus wanted to press her more but knew she would not speak further on it. Alara was on the top of his list of people he needed to sit down and talk with after this was over. Her comments gave him the impression she didn’t know about Warren and Brock and that worried him.

  The plane smelled of age and use. Brock got what he paid for considering the circumstances. At least they were progressing without someone immediately chasing them.

  “Are we getting Grep on the way back?” she asked.

  “No, Grep left the team. I’m not sure where he’s at right now.”

  Again, she stared out the window avoiding him.

  Were things not going according to the Aliri’s plan? She supposedly knew what was going to happen but adamantly refused to help which meant she couldn’t help. If she could help, would she? They were on their own.

  The engine droned on into the evening. The trip was an easy eight hours with normal winds, but the headwind for nearly the entire trip added two hours. Mr. Peters provided sodas along the way but he had nothing else to offer. He also asked Magnus if he wanted to stop along the way but they declined. In the end, the plane landed at a small regional airport just an hour away from the Devils Shores facility. Mr. Peters took his payment and they separated.

  They managed to obtain a rental car for the drive to Devils Shores. The trip was uneventful and, after arriving, Magnus ordered Brock to pull over at a restaurant. They needed to ditch the rental, eat something and figure out how they would break into the facility. They took a booth near the door. Magnus called Mira using their EP devices.

  “Magnus,” Mira said. “It’s so good to hear you.”

  She sounded pleased to hear from him. He hoped the reason for his call would not change that.

  “Hey, Mira. Good to hear from you, too. I have Brock, Warren and a new friend named Alara here with me. We’re fugitives from the law, made worse by the fact the Feds want us.”

  “We talked about it here and we pretty much figured out what you are up to. Count us in, although Jules is still displeased with you.”

  Magnus sighed inwardly.

  “Yeah? She’ll get over it,” he said.

  He heard Beth’s voice in his mind again.

  Forget me? Never.

  “Magnus,” Mira chided.

  “I need a favor. The Omega aliens have a name. They are called the Kron. They have infiltrated one of the researchers on the wormhole project. The Kron operative plans to use the tech to destroy Earth. We need that ship.”

  Magnus didn’t know how to read Mira without seeing her. Her voice was part of it but not enough. Everything hinged on the girls helping him.

  “The wormhole project goes by the name of Project Ion. We were ordered to return to our compartments since you were reported rogue,” Mira said. “They do not want us near the ship until you are captured. We can get you into the facility but we will have to fight our way in. People will likely get hurt.”

  There was remorse in her voice. The girls had good hearts.

  “Is there any other way?” he asked.

  “No other option is viable. We cannot get past them without likely killing or at least seriously wounding the guards. None of us want to do that, except perhaps you.”

  “I’m not sure I like the way you put that,” he said.

  “To be clearer, you will do what has to be done to save Earth,” she said.

  “We have to save Earth and that ship is the fastest way there. We don’t even have hours left. We know the first test, and the last, occurs tomorrow morning in France. They will test that device no matter what we say. The dollar signs are too large to turn this down so they will find a way to justify it,” Magnus said.

  The new technology was a combination of three which included a new mega-
generator, capable of powering all of California but designed to power this new device, a portable forcefield capable of withstanding heat, cold, radiation, and the vacuum of space and, finally, the portal itself. It was a device that could open a hole in France and allow someone to walk through to the other side anywhere in the world. Magnus knew that meeting Alara was not chance and the Aliri wanted him to save Earth. The Aliri couldn’t save it because the Kron were interfering with them directly. Their only hope lay in resisting both alien species. No matter what roadblocks the Aliri put up, humans were fighting them to make this project happen and, in the end, destroying themselves. It worked both ways, though. Kron was working to thwart the Aliri and to convince Earth to proceed with this new technology, but again, it was in Earth’s hands.

  “Seph talked a lot with Grep,” Mira said. “We have a pretty good update on the situation. She is actually on the phone with him right now back in her quarters. I just left there. The conversation was not a good one. Grep is upset about something and--”

  I’m sure he is.

  Magnus cut her off.

  “Mira, we don’t have time. They start the test in the morning in Paris. You’ve got to work on getting us in there.”

  “Give me a couple of minutes. I will call you back. While I am at it, get yourselves to the perimeter of the fence, south side. There is some cover which will help your approach. Stay behind the hill. If they spot you, you will be shot.”

  “Thanks girl,” Magnus told her, and she was gone.

  He turned to the group.

  “She’s working on it. Brock, we need wheels. Something all-terrain.”

  “I’m on it, Mag. Damn, I love saying that.”

  Brock left the restaurant. The waitress returned.

  “Can I--”

  “Check please,” Magnus said. “Alara... never mind.”

  “Warren, it’s time you stepped up. You’ve got to figure it out. We need you at your best.”

  “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do to figure it out.”

  Magnus could see Warren was getting upset. Something else was driving this.

  “Warren, what is really--?”

  “Mag, I don’t want to talk about it. Let it go - right now,” he said, pointing his finger at Magnus.

  He didn’t have time to figure out Warren’s issue. If Warren didn’t resolve it, he would go in as is. When this was all over, he would have a talk with him. Magnus’ EP device activated. It was Brock.

 

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