Blaze (The High-Born Epic)

by Jason Woodham

  Sergeant Reynolds pressed some lit symbols underneath the plastic-like material on the wall. Some more words flashed across the screen, and he said something, and a laser beam seemed to shoot into his eye, and then it several lasers danced about on his face.

  “Authorization for command level accepted,” a robotic voice with a female tone said.

  Harold felt a slight bump, and he thought he could feel them moving up. After several seconds, he felt the direction change, and he felt like they were moving straight back. Then, he felt like they moved to the left, and up again. Finally, the motion stopped and the doors opened again.

  When he walked outside, he could see two robotic-like soldiers on either side of the door. They were holding guns similar to the ones that High-Born ground troops carried. They looked a lot different than Rat-Trap and D-Con except for their heads. Their visors looked identical, but their body was much smaller, and they weren’t much larger than Harold. He stopped and regarded them closely. The visor slid up on the one he was studying.

  “It’s called CASE armor,” a man inside said.

  “Sir,” Sergeant Reynolds said. “If you would, please continue with me.”

  Harold waved bye to the man in the CASE armor and followed Sergeant Reynolds down the hallway to another large door where two more CASE units stood. The lasers flickered in his eyes again, and across his face, and the door slid open. Then, he walked inside.

  He was inside a massive dome-shaped room. All across the floor area were numerous computer stations, and people in uniforms like his were pressing symbols on them, and some were just looking at their screens almost absent-mindedly. There was a massive screen like the billboards in the High-Born cities on the far wall. On it, he could see a slowly changing view of the ocean floor. The rest of the dome was covered with smaller screens of various sizes. Each of them displayed an ever-changing view of many different things. Some showed other angles of the ocean floor, others showed the top of the ocean. A few were showing views of the ground and ocean from above.

  Harold just looked around, wide-eyed, for several moments.

  He was brought out of his wonderment by a lot of noise. He looked up at the large screen in the center of the far wall. He could see himself and Aireon holding hands and raising them in defiance as the billboard of the High-Born Dragons fell to the city streets of New Pylos. It played over and over and all of the people who had been looking at the different computer screens were standing and applauding. Some of them had their hand near their mouths, and were whistling loudly. Some began hooping and hollering as they cheered loudly. Harold even noticed that some of them had tears in their eyes. The applause went on for an impossibly long time, and he felt slightly embarrassed. As the crowd continued celebrating, he noticed a man walking towards him as the cheering seemed to get louder.

  Harold looked at him closely. He looked to be in his late thirties, or perhaps early forties. He was wearing a uniform like his except it had a lot of medals pinned to the left side of it. He was of average height, but Harold could tell that he had an extraordinary physique. The brown-haired, blue-eyed man extended his hand toward Harold. And Harold reached out his own hand, and the two men shook hands. The crowd then got even louder.

  After they shook hands for several seconds, the man waved, and urged Harold to do the same. He did, and the applause got louder. After a few more seconds, the man prompted the crowd to lessen their noise. Harold noticed that there was also a man in the center of the room next to a large chair who began doing the same thing. The noise began subsiding, decreasing in volume for about fifteen or twenty seconds before it completely stopped.

  The man in front of him waved to the man in the center of the room, who returned his wave. The man in the center of the room then whistled, and the crowd looked toward him.

  “Now you’ve seen that Blaze is real too. So, back to work people!” he shouted. “We’ve got a war to win!”

  “Yes, sir,” the crowd answered and returned to their posts, seemingly with more energy than before.

  The man in front of him looked at Reynolds and Pierce and said, “Dismissed. I will call you when we’re finished.”

  “Yes, sir,” Harold’s escorts said in unison and brought up their hands to their heads and then back down sharply. Then they turned and walked away.

  “Sorry about the theatrics,” the man in front of him said and pointed at the screen that was still playing the footage of Blaze and Aireon. “It’s been so long since we’ve had any hope that the admiral and I thought it would be good for morale. I’m Colonel John-Michael Stevens, United States Air Force,” he continued and pointed to another door across the room. “Now, if you would, please follow me.”

  Chapter 52

  As Harold and Colonel Stevens exited the dome, they entered into another room. There was a large table full of food, and Stone was sitting on one side of it and River was opposite him. River’s plate was empty, but Stone seemed to be spooning out some mashed potatoes onto his plate that was already full of bones and crumbs. There were several other people that he did not recognize, but what was behind them caught his attention before he could figure out who they were. Where the back wall should have been was a beach full of white sand and the ocean behind it. Hovering above the wavy waters was a beautiful setting sun with bluish clouds hanging in the sky. Harold thought he could even feel a slight breeze.

  Despite the wonderful smell of the food, Harold was so completely enraptured by the beach that he just wandered toward it. He heard Stone say something, but he did not pay him attention as he just kept walking toward it. He was about to step on the sand, and something hit him in face, and he nearly fell backwards. The beach rippled out from where his nose had struck something solid. He reached out toward the beach and he felt his finger hit a wall, and he noticed more ripples appear almost as if the entire scene was made from water.

  “It’s not real, Fire,” Stone said as he spooned potatoes into his mouth. “I’m glad no one but us saw you walk into that wall and nearly fall. Everybody would’ve thought you were blind, and we would’ve lost the whole war before it even started.”

  “Would you please not talk with your mouth full,” River said to Stone.

  “What is it?” Harold said in near-childish amazement.

  “It’s called a holo-wall,” Colonel Stevens said.

  “This thing ain’t hollow,” Harold said as he knocked on it like a door. “It’s as solid as a rock.”

  “We’ve got a lot of work to do with this one,” someone sitting at the table said.

  “It’s short for hologram wall, Harold,” Colonel Stevens smiled as Harold turned around. “Why don’t you just sit down and eat right now,” he gestured to the food. “And just enjoy how it looks.”

  Harold tapped it one more time and watched ripples rattle across it, and then walked to table. He looked across it. There was a month’s worth of food in front of him. Mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, rice, peas, and several different kinds of fish that Harold had never seen. There was also a dish that was completely new to him.

  “What’s this?” he asked as he pointed at it.

  “Don’t worry about what it is,” Stone said as he continued stuffing his mouth with potatoes. Harold noticed River roll her eyes as he continued. “It’s good, Fire. Everything here is good. Just eat it.”

  “It’s a squash casserole,” Colonel Stevens answered. “One of my personal favorites.”

  Harold found something familiar about Colonel Stevens as he dipped himself a large spoonful of potatoes, but he could not quite figure it out. Then, he gave himself a helping of everything across the table, and sat down and started eating. Everything was much better than he expected. It all had flavors unlike anything he had ever experienced. He tried some of all the fish, but he particularly liked the dish they called blackened grouper. And the squash casserole was very good. The others at the table just talked to Stone and River about how things were in their villages, but Harold did not pay th
em attention.

  The food was too good.

  On his second plate, he just ate some more grouper, and more casserole. He felt guilty about getting a third helping, but he spooned more casserole and cut another small piece of grouper. None of the others seemed to notice. Now that his ferocious hunger was somewhat sated, he began looking around at the people at the table as he slowly chewed the food before him.

  They all were wearing uniforms similar to his, and all of them had a device similar to a data-pane. Though these data-panes were smaller than the data-panes he saw the High-Born use. These could fit in your pocket. He noticed that they constantly pressed them, especially when River and Stone answered questions about the things they had seen before they had rescued them. Harold gathered that Stone had been in three battles prior to his rescue and River had been in two.

  Harold had not noticed at first, but everyone sitting at the table was much older than him. In fact, most of them seemed older than the oldest person he had ever seen in Foxx Hole. However, they seemed very fit, most of them moved with the surety of youth, and their minds were very sharp. They all seemed to be soldiers of some sort, and most had medals pinned to their shirts. Harold finished the last of his meal and leaned back. He had never been so full in his entire life. In fact, his stomach actually hurt.

  Harold looked at the beach scene, and let the breeze blow across his face. He thought about how they made that breeze for a moment, but then he just let the thought go as he relaxed. He did not care how they made the wind. He just enjoyed it, and realized he had never felt so safe in his life. He wanted to share this feeling with Aunt Nean, Cooper, Ollie, and Sarah. And everyone else still in Foxx Hole, he thought.

  “When can I go back?” Harold said, interrupting the ongoing conversation. “I want to get my family.”

  The table fell silent. Harold looked from person to person. No one would look at him in the eye, not even Stone or River. The other people pretended to be busy typing information into their small data-panes, but Harold knew they were not doing anything but avoiding him. The only person who was even looking at him was Colonel Stevens.

  “When can I go bring them here?” Harold asked, looking directly at Colonel Stevens.

  Colonel Stevens regarded him for moment. Harold could see that he was choosing his next words carefully.

  “We are going to get them, Harold,” he answered. “Them, and many others as well.”

  “When?” Harold repeated.

  “As soon as Gabby recovers, and as soon as we properly train you, her, Ralph and Michelle,” Colonel Stevens calmly answered.

  Harold could see that Colonel Stevens was telling the truth, and he relaxed a little while trying to figure out why he seemed familiar, “How long will that take?”

  “Probably not very long,” he replied. “Given what all of you are capable of doing.”

  “I’m ready to go now,” Harold replied and stood up. “I can’t let them stay in what they’re living in.”

  Harold noticed the people at the table shuffling uneasily, and he saw Stone start to say something, but Colonel Stevens just held up his hand toward Stone. He could see River wiping her eyes. Then Colonel Stevens stood up.

  “You could quite possibly be the most powerful being on the Earth, Harold,” Colonel Stevens said. “And if it had not been for my task force, you would not be here right now.”

  “They got lucky,” Harold replied, sneering. “I’ll be ready for those A.I. Drones next time.”

  “Yes,” Colonel Stevens replied. “You most certainly will be. And you will burn everyone of them the next time you engage them. And you will save your loved ones as well. But storming the gates with no back up or solid plan is what landed you and Gabby in the hospital, nearly dead.”

  Harold looked down at the table and remained silent.

  “Despite the foolishness of what you two did,” he hesitated until Harold looked up at him. “It was one of the bravest things I’ve ever seen. You two thought you were alone, and you still decided to act when no one else could and when no one else would. Your courage is worthy of honor.”

  Harold relaxed and he could feel an overwhelming, patient resolve coming over him.

  “We couldn’t let you fight this war alone, in fact we’ve been searching for you since the first reports of you came in, but you managed to evade us and the lab rats alike. While we were searching for you, this guy showed up,” Colonel Stevens motioned toward Stone. “After we pulled him out of a battle that would’ve led to his death, she decided to make an appearance,” he motioned to River. “We hadn’t even had time to fully debrief her before you and Gabby decided to commit suicide. We all talked about it, and decided that we had to come after you. Because we absolutely had to see a guy who takes nothing but a sword into a fight against several dozen tanks, and wins.” Colonel Stevens was smiling now.

  Harold started chuckling, as did many others at the table.

  “What did the AI Drones do to Gabby and me?” Harold asked.

  Colonel Stevens took a deep breath, “It’s complicated, but they were built with a weapon called a neural disruptor. It’s one of the reasons human pilots had such difficulty combating them, and without getting technical, they scrambled your senses by interrupting your neurotransmitters.”

  “I thought you said you weren’t going to get too technical,” Harold smiled as he returned to his chair.

  Colonel Stevens just smiled and shrugged, “I don’t know how else to explain it.”

  Harold finally figured out why it seemed like he knew Colonel Stevens in some way. It was his voice.

  “You’re one of the pilots of the fighter jets that saved Gabby and me, right?” Harold asked.

  “Yes, I am,” Colonel Stevens said as he sat down.

  “I thought your name was Archangel,” Harold said.

  “Pilots and ATLAS operators have nicknames known collectively as callsigns,” Colonel Stevens answered. “I’m the leader of the Angry Angels, and my callsign is Archangel. Major Young’s callsign is Rat-Trap. It’s similar to the difference between Harold and Blaze. And Gabby and Aireon.”

  “And I guess Ralph and Stone, and Michelle and River,” Harold answered as he nodded toward Stone and River.

  “That’s right,” Colonel Stevens said with a smile.

  Harold did not know why, but he liked Colonel Stevens.

  “What’s an ATLAS?” Harold asked.

  “Atlas is two different things,” Colonel Stevens replied. “Atlas was a Titan and giant from Greek Mythology who fought against the ancient gods, and was cursed to hold up the sky. The ATLAS Corps takes their motto from that story, but ATLAS is also an acronym,” Colonel Stevens continued. “Each letter in the word stands for another word. A-T-L-A-S means All-Terrain Land Air Sea Armored Corps. They are the ultimate support force. Their armor gives them the ability to be air support for ground troops, most of which is comprised of CASE units. That is also an acronym for Cybernetically-Assisted Strength Enhancement armor. It’s not as advanced as ATLAS armor, but it allows normal individuals to physically compete with the lab rats. ATLAS units can also double as a supplementary force for fighter jets, and can even operate in the water as well. They often provide close support for naval forces. In fact, there is always a team ready to fight in the event that the Washington is detected.”

  “What are those missiles that turn into smaller missiles called? Those things are really neat,” Harold said.

  Colonel Stevens smiled and replied, “They’re called SWARM’s. Strategically-Weaponized Anti-Retaliation Missiles. If a missile defense system retaliates against them, they break apart. However, they can also be set to detonate at an arbitrary distance from target. We also use something called LAMPP’s as well. It’s very technical as to how and why it works, but it was the bright light in the sky that made all of the lab rats become visible during your rescue. It stands for Long-range Aerial Multi-directional Photonic Paint.’

  Harold’s eyebrows raised, “I’m
sorry I even asked.”

  Colonel Stevens smiled, “You’ve got a lot to learn, Harold. But I will be personally overseeing yours, Gabby’s, Ralph’s, and Michelle’s training.”

  “I’m ready to get started,” Harold said.

  “Very well,” Colonel Stevens said. “Training starts right now. Lesson one. Never again refer to them as High-Born. From this moment forward, you call them lab rats.”

  “Why?” Harold asked.

  “Because that’s what they are,” Colonel Stevens replied. “You’ll probably hear some people call them Frankensteins or Frank’s for short. You see, they’re created in laboratories, they’re not born at all.”

  “How?” Harold asked.

  “That is a very, very, long story,” Colonel Stevens answered. “But right now let’s focus on getting your family back. The first step is for you to tell us everything you know about your village. How many people are there? Then, tell us about everything you’ve done in the past few months, when and how your powers developed, and everything you’ve encountered since you began fighting them.”

  Harold leaned back, and took a deep breath. He thought for a moment, and then began telling them about Foxx Hole and the people who were still there.

  Chapter 53

  The sun on the holo-wall never seemed to move and Harold noticed that the clouds always moved from left to right. When they reached the right side of the wall it was like they just wrapped around to the left side. The palms trees looked like you should have been able to walk right out to them and sit underneath them. Their leaves even seemed to rustle in perfect harmony with the artificial breeze. Every so often there seemed to be dolphins leaping in the background and seagulls would occasionally dip and caw. Harold had almost forgotten that he was actually on what these Americans called a super carrier-submarine near the floor of the Atlantic Ocean.

  It was nearly time for supper now, and except for bathroom breaks, they had sat at the table for the entire afternoon. Harold, Michelle, and Ralph were subjected to a never-ending stream of questions from the various people. Mostly they were questioned about the layouts of the cities they had visited and attacked. Occasionally, the intelligence agents would ask about their villages, and respective layouts of them. Eventually, the people at the table had even asked them to draw maps of their villages and the surrounding area. The intelligence agents constantly input the information they were providing into their data-panes.